In 1986, at the ripe old age of ten, I became hopelessly stricken with an incurable case of Menace Mania. Dennis the Menace to be more precise. I was a rabid fanboy who lived and breathed all things Dennis. In fact, it was all I could talk about to anyone unfortunate enough to be made to listen. It started with the 1980’s reboot cartoon starring the unlikely voice talents of Phil Hartman, and later, Maurice LaMarche.

Looking back now I can see this cartoon was nothing more than another hokey 80’s filmation style throw away, but at ten it changed my life forever. Or at least I thought so at the time. My obsession was so severe, I would even go so far as to blow off play dates with friends so that I could be sure I wouldn’t miss a single episode. After a while, my parents worried I may be spending too much time inside. So they taught me how to use the VCR so that I could record random episodes for later viewing and still play outside. Unfortunately for them this newfound skill they had armed me with only led to my new compulsory need to get every single episode on tape, which, after months/years of careful planning, did eventually happen. It also helped that there were only a total of seventy eight incredibly strange surrealistic episodes. One in particular quickly became my absolute favorite. That episode was simply entitled “Magic Pen.” In said episode, an alien (as I mentioned previously this was a very surreal take on the Menace Universe) discovered that a pen he was trying to use was a dud so he discarded it onto earth. Naturally said pen fell right into Dennis’ yard and eventually his hand. Of course what was once thought of as broken quickly worked for our young protagonist who went about happily drawing, unaware that said pen also contained magical properties that allowed one’s drawings to come to life. As an artistic child,  the idea of such a device sent my young mind reeling. The possibilities were truly endless. However, unlike Dennis, no such luck befell me. But that was part of why I loved the show so much, as now I could live vicariously through that blonde spiky haired little scamp.

Not long after discovering the show, my aunt introduced me to the one panel comic that ran in most local papers. Sadly it did not run in mine, but after endless begging, pleading, and empty promises, she agreed to cut out each day’s comic to save for me. About once or twice a month she would gather them together and mail them to me. I was so excited to finally have them in hand, I would actually lay them out over my bedroom floor and roll in them much the same way Scrooge McDuck would money. I loved every panel no matter how mundane. At some point I even began a scrapbook where I could keep each panel safe and pristine for later reading and rereading.

Of course as any addict can tell you, my obsession did not stop there. Next up were the toys. In fact, Dennis the Menace had quite an extensive toy line and I was determined to get them all. I even once dragged my reluctant father to the mall so I could pick myself up a surprisingly realistic Dennis doll. Fearing this could lead to later trouble with the other kids, he did try to dissuade me. But I was steadfast in my determination. Nothing was going to get between me and my new friend, as I remember calling him.