Classic American Humor with National Lampoon

Before The Onion, there was National Lampoon.

First published in 1971, it was a groundbreaking humor magazine that was an offshoot of the Harvard Lampoon. The humor was quite twisted and bizarre and pushed the envelope as it were for what was acceptable and appropriate. Today it would probably pale in comparison to the kind of humor that is served up weekly by The Onion.

Having already been weaned on Mad Magazine and Cracked, National Lampoon was next in line.

The magazine fostered the talents of such writers as P.J. O’Rourke, John Hughes (yes, that John Hughes) Anne Beatts and Michael O’Donoghue (Beatts and O’Donoghue would go on to be a writer for Saturday Night Live).

While some of their parodies and humor were quite bizarre other material could even find a niche in the mainstream and even make it to the silver screen. Consider this piece “Vacation ‘58” by John Hughes:

If Dad hadn't shot Walt Disney in the leg, it would have been our best vacation ever. We were going to Disneyland. It was a dream come true. The rides! The thrills! The Mousketeers! I was so excited that I spent it the whole month of May feeling like I had to go to the bathroom. When school finally let out on a Tuesday, I sprinted home as fast as I could, even though we weren't leaving until Friday.


Dad Picked up our brand-new 1958 Plymouth Sport Suburban Six station wagon on Thursday morning. The Speedometer had only six and three-tenths miles on it. Dad said that it would be a pleasure to travel for six days in a car that smelled as good as our new Plymouth. It was nice to see Dad excited about our trip. For months Mom had to act moody and beg to get him to drive out to California.

"What good will it do to the kids to see their country from an airplane seat?" she wanted to know.

Finally, Dad gave in and said we would get a station wagon and drive the 2,448 miles from 74 Rivard Boulevard, Grosse Pointe, Michigan, to 1313 Harbor Boulevard, Anaheim California.

It took almost all day Friday to pack the car. Dad loaded and unloaded it again and again to save a square foot here, a square inch there. Then he simonized the car and hung litter bags in the front and back seats, attached a compass to the dashboard, and put a first aid kit in the glove compartment. Then he called everyone outside to take one item apiece out of the car so he could close the back.


After dinner, Dad ran the Plymouth up to Richie's Marathon Service to gas up and have Richie check under the hood and see if everything was A-O.K. When Dad backed out of the driveway the car scraped bottom. Not a little scrape but a scccccccrrrrrrraaaaaaape!


Dad got back at 8:00. We heard the Sccccrrrraaaaape! And know it was him. Richie had said that everything was beautiful under the hood. The car was gassed up, there was plenty of oil, the tire pressure was perfect, the AAA maps were organized in the glove compartment, and the speedometer read exactly 20.00 miles.

"Okay, all you Indians! Time for bed!" Mom said.

"But it's only 8:30!" I protested.

"We, have to get Lip at 4:00 in the morning! I want to make Chicago by lunch!" Dad said, shooing us upstairs.

The telephone rang at 9:45 the next morning. It was Grandpa Pete calling to see why we hadn't gone yet. We had all overslept - even the baby, Dad was furious. I could hear him screaming and pounding his fists on the bathroom sink.

In 1983, Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) and his family would be a big hit with movie audiences. For Chase, himself a veteran of National Lampoon’s Radio Hour, it would be one of his better films (the other being Fletch).

I was an avid reader of National Lampoon back in the 70s when I was in high school followed by four years in the US Air Force and then college. The magazine’s heyday was back in the 70’s along with Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy. Those three magazines were all you needed to stay up to date with music, politics, movies, and of course humor.

One of my favorite issues of National Lampoon was the magazine’s parody of a High school yearbook. A few years ago I found a copy online and didn’t mind shelling out forty bucks for this classic issue.

This cover of a National Lampoon issue was from November 1980. I was going to Southern Illinois University at the time and really getting into new wave/punk music. I definitely got a kick out of the artwork.

Classic Christmas Movies -- Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

Soon the holiday season will be upon us and despite the economic hardships and economic uncertainty that might dampen the holiday spirit for many of us this year, some classic holiday movies might be able to take the edge off our worries and concerns—even if only for a few hours.

There’s a trove of classic holiday movies to choose from including such classics like A Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life that have become part of the holiday season for many of us who have grown up watching them. Holidays would not be the same if we at least didn’t watch one or two of our favorite Christmas movies (not to mention some a few of the classic TV holiday shows like A Charlie Brown Christmas). For many, watching these films with friends and family has become a holiday tradition (I can’t wait to watch one of my favorite holiday films A Christmas Story with my sons Jeremy Aaron and Bia one day).

One of my favorite all-time holiday films that annually kicked off the holiday season (it was usually shown on WGN’s Family Classics—TV channel 9 out of Chicago—right after Thanksgiving) was Miracle on 34th Street (1947).

The story is both heartwarming and endearing and captures a lot of the holiday spirit that centers around whether or not there really is a Santa Claus. The film begins right before Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, when an actor who is playing Santa is discovered drunk by a whiskered old man (Edmund Gwenn). Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara), the very practical and career-driven special events director for Macy’s, persuades the old man—who looks a lot like Santa Claus to take the drunken man’s place.

The old man saves the day for Doris. In fact, he is such a sensation that he is quickly recruited to be the store Santa at the Macy’s Department Store. Although the man becomes a big hit with customers and children, Doris is surprised to learn that he calls himself Kris Kringle and claims to be Santa Claus.

Despite reassurances by Kringle's doctor that he is harmless, Doris still has her misgivings, especially when she has cynically trained herself, and her daughter, Susan (a very young and adorable Natalie Wood), to reject all notions of belief and fantasy. And yet, people, especially Susan, begin to notice there is something special about Kris and his determination to advance the true spirit of Christmas amidst the rampant commercialism around him and succeeding in improbable ways.

Following a raucous conflict with the store's cruelly incompetent psychologist Kris finds himself committed to a hospital where, in despair, Kringle deliberately fails a mental examination to ensure his stay at the hospital.

All seems lost until Doris' friend, Fred Gaily (John Payne) an attorney (and who is also fond of Doris), reassures Kris of his worth and agrees to represent him in the fight to secure his release. To achieve that, Fred arranges a formal hearing in which he argues that Kris is sane because he is in fact Santa Claus.

Not to spoil the ending (just in case there is someone who has not seen it) it is definitely a holiday classic for all ages. It has been remade twice, once for a TV-made-movie with Sebastian Cabot—Mr. French from TV’s Family Affair—as Kris Kringle and a theatrical release back in the 90s with Sir Richard Attenborough as Kris Kringle, but they are no match for the original B&W film as well as Gwenn’s stellar performance in this film.

To be sure, the reason why the film holds up quite well after all these years is that its message is just as important now as it was back then. After all, what the film is really about is believing that anything is possible just as long as you have faith—even when it comes to believing in Santa Claus. Additionally, the film’s stronger message that Christmas has become too commercialized comes across just as strong now as it did over 50 years ago.

This a family holiday movie so you can excuse the filmmakers for tugging on your heartstrings at times like the scene when Kris Kringle sings a song in Dutch for a young girl who just came to America and doesn’t speak any English. Such scenes reinforce the film’s message. Likewise there is also something innocent and pure about the film that makes it appealing and heartwarming.

If there were one film to get you into the spirit of the season (if you haven’t felt some of that holiday magic already) Miracle on 34th Street would be such a film.

Leave it to Bia -- Part 2

For the past three weeks Bia has been going to a nursery school and he’s been enjoying it a lot. It’s been good for On, too because she can look after Jeremy Aaron and not worry about what “busy Bia” is getting into.

Every morning when he leaves he gives Jeremy Aaron a kiss and tells his young brother in Lao to be a good boy.

“Be a good boy,” Bia says, “and take good care of Mom.”

When On told me that today that really tugged on my heartstrings—just as much as it probably did on On’s. Bia must have picked that up from overhearing On talk about what I always tell her when I call about taking good care of Jeremy Aaron and him.

Then in the afternoon, the first thing that Bia does when he comes back home from school is to give Jeremy Aaron another kiss.

However, what really touched On was what Bia told her yesterday: he wants Jeremy Aaron to come to school with him.

Leave it to Bia again.

“I want him to come to school with me,” Bia says. “I will take care of him.”

“That’s so sweet,” On says.

“I will take him to school with me and make sure no one bothers him,” Bia adds. “And we can play football. And we can eat together. And we can come home together.”

At four-and-a-half, Bia has it all figured out.

“You have to wait at least one year,” On tells him. “Jeremy Aaron is still too young.”

Bia has had a hard time understanding why Jeremy Aaron doesn’t talk to him or play with him. After all, it was Bia who told Jeremy Aaron, “to come outside and walk” the time he felt him kick inside On’s stomach about a month before he was born.

“One year?” Bia asks. I can just imagine the expression on his little face trying to comprehend how long a year actually lasts.

“Yes,” On tells him, “one year.”

“Tomorrow right?”

“No, not tomorrow Bia,” On tells him patiently, “One year.”

On then tells me that Bia thinks about this for awhile, bites his lip and then looks at her again.

“Tomorrow, right?”

On smiles and at this point tells me that it is futile to try and explain to Bia how long one year is—after all when she tells him that I will be there in a few weeks he thinks it’s a few hours. Sometimes when I have called and talked to Bia he thinks that I will be there later that day.

In the meantime, Bia goes to school alone and I know he’s probably going to pester On again soon about Jeremy Aaron going to school with him. He just loves his little brother and watches out for him every day.