Thursday, February 05, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Goldberg: Family circus

By Tod Goldberg

An open letter to Bil Keane, creator of "Family Circus"

Dear Bil,

We've never met each other, Bil, so I hope you don't find it offensive that I'm using your first name. However, since you've been entering my home uninvited each morning for the last 33 years, I feel like we've reached a point of common civility and, with that in mind, I believe I can offer you some sage advice; advice others have likely swerved clear of in mortal Christian fear.

You need to call it a day.

I'm sorry, Bil, but it's true. I know many would think that pulling "Family Circus" from the pages of their morning paper would signal an end to all that is good and right about the world, that with the recent deaths of Mr. Rogers and Captain Kangaroo your scribblings represent the last vestiges of childhood whimsy. Those people are wrong. Both Mr. Rogers and Captain Kangaroo were smart men--they retired while they still had some skills left, while they were still at the top of that weird totem pole of freaky men in odd outfits who talk to children. Unlike Willie Mays and Cher, they left while still able to field their positions, such as they were, and thus are revered as nearly God-like figures. Well, that boat done sailed, hoss.

For reasons unknown to me, I've read your comic strip virtually every morning of my life. When I was 6, I thought it was dumb. When I was 12, I thought it was dumb. When I was 20, I thought it was dumb. When I turned 33 a few weeks ago, I settled down with my newspaper and morning cup of Starbucks Imperialism and went through my normal reading process--I start with the sports, move on to the entertainment news, dabble in the local news, dive headlong into the national news, flirt with the business section and finally head off to the toilet with the funnies. There, tucked beneath "Peanuts," was a circle featuring Billy's grandmother admonishing Billy that "GOAL" begins with "GO."

What a revelation! What an inspiration! What a bon mot of rough-hewn family values...if Tony Robbins is in your family. Now Bil, really, when you sat down to draw that, who were you speaking to? Children? Adults? Adults with children? Children without adults? Adults doing time? Children of crack-addicted mothers? Crack-addicted mothers selling ass downtown? I think you get the point, Bil.

Who, other than people with severe brain injuries, reads "Family Circus" and thinks, Damn, that was some funny/heartwarming/remotely true stuff right there. I'm not saying you were never funny or heartwarming, because I suspect you must have been at some point prior to my birth in 1971--shoot, I'll be charitable, I bet you were funny up until 1976, my fifth year on Earth and the basic mean age of the knowledge base you're aiming at. Now, however, I read your strip and it's like reading the back of a cereal box.

You might feel like I'm making an example out of you, Bil, because I am. But you're not alone here: Marmaduke should be the poster dog for euthanasia, Garfield is about as funny as a barbed-wire catheter and that poor son-of-a-bitch Hobbes should get a damn job already and stop leaching off his mama.

At any rate, what I figured out that morning on the toilet was that reading "Family Circus" has always made me mad--in the same way that watching "Leave It to Beaver" has always made me mad--because it reflects a society based on such formulaic Americana that it renders the reader nearly comatose. Let's face it, in the real world the kids of "Family Circus" would already be well-versed in downloadable Internet porn, would be killing space aliens with hyper-powered laser rifles on their Gameboys and would likely be living in a single-parent home. I don't blame you for not keeping it real, Bil--well, okay, I do a little bit--I merely think it would be nice if what you wrote appealed in some way to even an active fantasy of life.

I know it must be difficult to give up doing what you love, so I don't want you to think I'm telling you to sit in the front yard waving at passing cars all day. If you want to draw, draw your little heart out. If you feel like you need to give the world some homespun knowledge, send out a group e-mail to all your friends and family, encouraging them to forward it on to their friends and family by using a cute subject line like "ISN'T THIS CUTE!!! LOL!!!" The time has come, however, to cede your space in the 15-gazillion newspapers that feature your work to a fresh, new voice, someone whose words and jokes and insights might resonate with kids and adults alike.

Every good thing comes to an end, Bil, and it's not like you haven't had a solid run. Don't go out like Charles Schulz, who literally wrote "Peanuts" until he died and didn't get to bask in the afterglow of praise.

Sincerely,

Tod