Nostalgia has a funny way of making us accept things today for what we believed them to be yesterday. And it seems like only yesterday I was wearing footie pajamas, sharing a beanbag with my sister, accepting It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown! as must-see-Halloween TV. It’s a holiday tradition that was born during the time of 13 channels; when prime time was for adults and cartoons were for Saturdays. In other words, when it came to prime time fare, we’d watch Don Knots Has Crotch Rot if it was animated.
My kids, on the other hand, are far more cynical. When it comes to the classics, they believe that some things are better left in the shag-carpeted rooms of dad’s childhood. Perfect example: Years ago I convinced them to give Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas a try. I never tried again. If I had, there’d be a hole in my flat screen to match the one in Mama Otter’s washtub. [Cue the jug band quartet.]
This Halloween, however, we gave It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown! a second try. While my 9 year-old daughter was the target audience, I wanted to believe that my teenage sons (we’ll call them Beavis and Butthead), would give the timeless classic a fresh look. My realistic goal: A review that didn’t include “Dad, this sucks more than anything that has ever sucked before”.
[30 minutes later]
Dad, why did you make us watch that?
Because “It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown!” is considered a Halloween–
You know what, Butthead had a point. So I decided to re-watch the show from a different point of view. Not as a nostalgic 42 year-old, but as a literal-minded, streetwise detective investigating reports of alleged bullying in Peanuts Land. Using only the 1966 Charles Schulz classic as evidence, I conducted surveillance and filed the following police report with the Peanuts PD:
Case Number: ABC 10312014
Reporting Officer: Mr. Vernon
Date of Report: 31 October 2014
At approximately 4:00 PM:
I began to observe a series of events that, in their totality, suggested a neighborhood-wide pattern of physical and psychological abuse directed at block-headed bald kids. Alleged victim #1: Charlie Brown, a mildly-depressed ne’er do-well with a bumble-bee shirt and a bald head.
NOTE: Despite their similarities, Mr. Brown should not be confused with that whiny little bald prick Caillou. Where Mr. Brown is a sweet, sincere, sensitive boy with a touch of melancholy…Caillou is a colicky, self-centered little brat who will flat out lose his shit if he can’t go to the zoo NOW even though the fuc*ing zoo is closed.
At approximately 4:15 PM:
I observed suspect #1, Lucy van Pelt, yanking away a football just as Mr. Brown was about to kick it. This little prank caused the victim considerable pain. I can only assume that, if not for his obscenely large cranium, Mr. Brown would be concussed at this time. Again, please don’t confuse Mr. Brown’s chrome dome with that of fellow baldy Caillou. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Mr. Brown has only 2 hairs on his huge noggin. As for Caillou, my theory is that he sucks and even his hair follicles recognize that fact.
At approximately 5:00 PM:
Ms. van Pelt continues her systematic beat down on that “blockhead” Charlie Brown. You know how the Grinch had a heart that was 2 sizes too small? My theory is that Ms. van Pelt has a heart that’s 2 sizes too smaller than that. Oh, and she’s a bitch. I observed Mr. Brown looking happier than Pigpen in shit after receiving an invitation to Violet Gray’s Halloween party. Not so fast with that Lord of the Dance shit, Mr. Brown. Ms. van Pelt swoops in to give Mr. Brown a figurative kick to the peanuts. She informs him that he was invited by mistake. Good grief! Unfortunately, all of my attempts to sic Mr. Brown’s beagle, Snoop Dog, on that punk-ass bitch failed.
NOTE: Snoop Dog was last seen wearing a World War I aviator uniform and storming into 1940’s France. The f*ck is that sub-plot all about?
At approximately 7:00 PM:
I observed alleged victim #2, Linus van Pelt, rocking his comb-forward while freezing his 12 hairs off in a pumpkin patch. Apparently Mr. van Pelt was waiting for “the Great Pumpkin to rise out of his pumpkin patch and fly through the air with his bag of toys for all the children.” Ho-ho-hold on a second. Either this kid has hypothermia, or he’s crazier than a shit house rat. Crazier yet, he seems to have found a follower in Mr. Brown’s kid sister, Sally. [Psssss...hey Sally...runnnnnn!]
NOTE: My theory is that Lucy van Pelt fostered this clever Great Pumpkin charade as a form of psychological torture on her brother. Either that, or it’s an attempt to gain favor with Santa Claus. Thus ensuring that her brother endures the torment of watching her play with countless toys on Christmas while he can only start a pet rock collection with Mr. Brown.
At approximately 7:30 PM:
I observed Mr. Brown trick-or-treating with 5 ass holes while wearing a ghost costume with 18 eye holes. I can see adding a third hole to breathe out of…or even a fourth hole to pee out of…but numb nuts cut out enough holes for a PGA tour event. Even so, this does not excuse adults from throwing rocks into Mr. Brown’s bag. I mean, honestly, who gives out rocks for Halloween? At this point, every adult in the neighborhood is suspect #2.
NOTE: Every kid in the neighborhood–and I mean EVERY single kid–uses a bed sheet to dress up as a ghost. Ms. Van Pelt wears a witch mask on her face and a traffic cone on her head. I suspect that these bed-sheeted minions help to perpetrate Ms. van Pelt’s hate-filled agenda.
At approximately 8:00 PM:
I follow Mr. Brown to the home of Violet Gray for the party he was invited to by mistake. Mr. Brown really should have stayed home with Stephen King’s Carrie White. If he did, Mr. Brown wouldn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Yep, Ms. van Pelt and Ms. Gray (suspect #3) use the back of Mr. Brown’s head for jack-o-lantern carving practice. I stuck around and waited for this whole Carrie-esque subplot where Ms. White and Mr. Brown exact revenge (not with pig’s blood) with the innards from the Great Pumpkin. That revenge sub-plot never materialized so I’m left to conclude that this is a simple case of mistaken identity. Maybe everyone in this town thinks Mr. Brown is Caillou–The Fresh Prince of No Hair.
NOTE: Upon further investigation, I confirmed that Ms.Gray used a Sharpie pen on the poor bastard’s melon. That shit ain’t washing off ’til Thanksgiving. And why is there no adult supervision at this party? When I reached Mr. and Mrs. Gray via telephone, they informed me that they were in “MWAH MWAH MWAH.” I think that’s in Hawaii.
At approximately 10:00 PM:
I observe Sally Brown storming off after demanding “restitution” from Linus for making her miss out on “tricks and treats.” I still can’t figure out why she didn’t storm off hours ago when he delivered this creepy-even-by-1966-standards quip: “I thought little girls always believed everything that was told to them. I thought little girls were innocent and trusting.” I thought I just barfed up a cruller.
NOTE: I obtained a statement from Schroeder, the local lounge pianist who’s all smug because he’s the only boy in town with a full head of hair. When asked why Sally would have agreed to stay in the pumpkin patch with Linus in the first place, he replied: “Bitches do be trippin’.”
At approximately 4:00 AM:
My worst fears never materialized. I observed Lucy heading out to the pumpkin patch and I assumed that we’d see a pumpkin patch death scene to rival the Shining’s hedge-maze standoff. But to my surprise, Ms. van Pelt fetched her “blockhead” brother from the pumpkin patch, walked him home, and tucked him into bed. I stuck around just to make sure she didn’t grab a sledgehammer and go to town on his legs like Annie Wilkes. She didn’t, so I called it a night.
NOTE: Before turning in, I made 2 phone calls:
1) I called Mr. and Mrs. van Pelt to inform them that they’re shitty parents. I also let them know that their son froze his baguettes off while sleeping in a pumpkin patch with only his blankie and his blind faith in produce to comfort him. They nonchalantly replied, “MWAH MWAH MWAH.”
2) I left a message for the local psychiatrist, hoping to schedule a much-needed psychological evaluation for both Charlie Brown and Linus van Pelt. To my utter amazement, I learned that there was only one psychiatrist in town. She works cheap, she has a monopoly on the whole town, and she’s the biggest bitch in cartoon history.
P.S. If my case load permits, I plan to return to Peanuts during their Thanksgiving and Christmas specials…to determine if any further surveillance or criminal charges are warranted.
Until then, Happy Halloween!
Except for you, Caillou!