I finally figured out where I developed my warped sense of humor. It was from Alfred E. Newman, a friend of my brother's in the early 70s. My big bro was an avid reader of Mad Magazine and was kind of enough to let his little sister read the questionable material. From the cover to the folding back page, I savored each page. I never totally understood all the content, but I knew enough to know that it was good stuff.
So what do I do? I pass on the tradition by giving my 8-year-old son his very own subscription to Mad. His reaction to the his first issue was total intrigue. The content is bolder, sexier and even more snarky than I remember. Still making making fun of people, politics, and current events. Still making me laugh my socks off.
Some of the subject matter is without a doubt unsuitable for a 2nd grader. So I talked to my son about the magazine and that he probably shouldn't be reading it. He agreed that he wouldn't let it corrupt his brain or blame me for ruining his mind. I justify letting him read the magazine by convincing myself that it will spark more interest in people, politics and current events. Yes, I'm delusional.
With those minors details out of the way, the tradition continues.
And here I am again, a pass-along-reader of Mad Magazine. Some things never change.