As a child, I always read the comics. (Some things don’t change as you grow up, and for this I am thankful.) Of course, the first one on the front page was always “Peanuts”. On how many newspapers was it not?

I didn’t usually laugh at “Peanuts” back then. Looking back, I realize that it’s because I didn’t understand the humor. Now that I’m older, and perhaps a little wiser, I can understand a little more about Charlie Brown and the gang.

“Peanuts” was never about physical humor or obvious one-liners, though as a child I did usually laugh when Lucy pulled the football away from Charlie Brown and caused him to miss. (I don’t laugh about that anymore; it’s probably because I was a kicker in high school.) But things that they said back then that didn’t strike me then do now. For example, in “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, Lucy is complaining that she always gets stupid toys or clothes and that she never gets what she really wants. When Charlie Brown asks her what that is, she replies, “Real estate.” I, personally, find that quite humorous now.

Another thing that “Peanuts” dealt with was unrequited love. That’s a subject that I’m familiar with, though probably not to the extent that Mr. Schulz was. But Charlie Brown’s perpetual crush on “the little red-haired girl” is something that I can really identify with. Charlie’s interest never changed; mine, to this point, always has, but the point is that I understand what he is going through. I identify with what Schulz was trying to communicate, and it brings an important point to light; sometimes comic strips are not about making you laugh. Sometimes they’re about making you think.

Charlie Brown played the lovable loser for the most part, but sometimes he had his moments in the sun. He hit a home run one time to win a game and stop what certainly is one of the longest losing streaks in the history of sports. He even got to give the little red-haired girl a kiss once; he didn’t remember the rest of the night because it made him so delirious with joy, but Linus was there to retell it all. And the interesting thing is, knowing that Charlie Brown won sometimes makes you, the reader, feel good. It gives you hope for your own little troubles and anxieties, even if they’re not as important as winning a game is to a child.

It took me a while, but I finally understand a lot about what “Peanuts” means. And now, Charles Schulz is gone. 50 years of work is left behind. 50 years of insights into the human condition. Many thanks to the real Charlie Brown for performing this labor of love.

Because now I understand.