“This time I’m gonna kick that football clear to the moon!”
— Charlie Brown
Relating to fictional characters often changes as we move through different stages of life, but looking back on my childhood, I always identified most with Charlie Brown.
Everyone else in the Peanuts gang had their own distinct thing. Linus had his security blanket. Schroeder had his toy piano. Snoopy had Woodstock. Sally was focused on Linus, and Lucy had a crush on Schroeder.
What did Charlie Brown have? On Halloween, he only got a rock. He had that sparse, pathetic little Christmas tree, and an overwhelming desire to kick a football that was constantly yanked away at the last second (thanks, Lucy). Augh! At least for just a nickel, he could afford her psychiatry booth.
Granted, Charlie Brown had a pretty cool pet—everyone loves Snoopy! But Charlie Brown was the one who dutifully fed him and took care of him every day. Good grief! Even Snoopy lived a more exciting life, flying his doghouse into aerial battles with the Red Baron, hanging out with Woodstock, or posing as Joe Cool.
All of that was separate from good old Charlie Brown. While his friends seemed to have everything together, almost everything Charlie Brown touched or attempted seemed to go as wrong as possible.
Rats!
