Charles M. Schulz and Peanuts 

With his comic strip Peanuts, Charles Schulz has created an American institution.  Linus' blanket, Snoopy's doghouse, Lucy's psychiatrist booth, and Charlie Brown's zig-zagged yellow shirt are but a few of the Peanuts images that have graced not only thousands of comic strips, but also countless lunchboxes, bedsheets, and T-shirts.

Just as the American marketplace has become flooded with Peanuts paraphernalia, my mind has long been dominated by Schulz's strips.  I used to devour Schulz's books, rereading my dog-eared paperbacks and beloved Peanuts Treasury until I knew every frame.  To this day, even after I have long since stopped reading Peanuts daily, everyday life continually reminds me of those old strips.

A major factor behind my Peanuts obsession is parental influence.  While not Schulz junkies like I turned out to be, my parents have always been Peanuts fans.  Before I was born, they had dogs named Violet and Snoopy.  I grew up having a dachshund named Schroeder, for crying out loud; I didn't name the dog.

In general, this obsession has been harmless. From time to time, however, it can prove a little embarrassing. For instance, sometimes I'm asked to explain why I'm laughing at a certain situation. This inevitably leads to conversations like this:
 
  

Me:	OK, you remember when Snoopy was trying to get to Petaluma for the Arm-Wrestling Championship of the World, right?
Someone else:	{blank stare}
Me:	Oh, you know -- when he and Lucy ended up having this arm-wrestling death match kind of thing, right?
Someone else:	{confused look}
Me:	Oh, good grief. Doesn't anyone have any culture anymore?

 

In my later childhood, while I continued to harbor my obsession with Peanuts, I began to develop a few new ones, most of which would warp me even further.