"The New Yorker" at 100 [plus: "Saturday Night Live" at 50, "Survivor" at 25]

One hundred years ago today, my life changed...

That’s the day the first issue of The New Yorker came out. 

I wasn’t there, of course.

But when I eventually did come around, the magazine became a consistent influence on me.

It first made my acquaintance in my dentist’s waiting room when I was 15. Already a hardcore comic book and comic strip guy, I was immediately smitten by the single-panel gag cartoons. I couldn’t get enough of them. 

I liked the covers, too—alternately wistful, whimsical, or arresting. Almost always transporting. I even got a hefty coffee table book compilation of every cover from 1925 to 1989 and pored over it.

I couldn’t care less about the articles.

While other boys my age hung posters of metal bands and girls in swimsuits, I decorated my room with covers of a magazine that was already a senior citizen. 

I continued this into college, at one pointing even taping some on my ceiling; you can catch a glimpse here:

Also in college, I wrote a paper about the journalism and writing style of The New Yorker and drew what I thought were New Yorker-style gags for my college humor mag. 

[referencing the then-fairly-fresh-in-mind 

1988 movie The Last Temptation of Christ]

I also submitted some of those cartoons to the legendarily competitive New Yorker and was excited to get rejected. Okay, “excited” is the wrong word. It’s just that rejection is closer to acceptance than never trying.

For several years after college, I managed to hold on to the student subscription rate—only $20 a year for a weekly magazine! 

I finally noticed the articles in between the cartoons, and read some. 

I also attended an event where I got to meet some of the cartoonists and get a book signed. I told Bob Mankoff that my name was “Marc with a ‘c’,” and his response did not miss a b(eat). 

In 1998, it was time: I began regularly submitting batches of ten cartoons to the magazine. My strategy: create 100 before sending round 1 so when the inevitable rejection came, I would have enough “inventory” so as not to be deterred. I made copies at Kinko’s and included a SASE. So 20th century.

By 2001, I got to the point where I was invited to come to “Look Day”—the morning once a week [at the time, it was always a Tuesday] when select cartoonists showed their ideas to the cartoon editor at the New Yorker office in person, then went out to lunch as a group to commiserate about all the brilliant ones he passed on. Once in July 2001, then over a four-month period starting in February 2002, I met with Mankoff, then the cartoon editor, 12 intimidating times. 

I never sold one, but did get a coveted rejection folder on site. I still kick myself that I never took a photo of it, or of any of the lunch gatherings. [This was all pre-iPhone.]

Those lunches included maybe a couple of others in the 20s-to-40s range and a preponderance of alter kakers who welcomed a wannabe who had not published even a single cartoon in the mag.

I did sell to scores of other publications, so all was not for naught. 

I haven’t hung covers in years but I still subscribe to the print edition to save the ones I like.

One day, I’ll submit cartoons again.

And when I do, I will definitely take a photo of my rejection folder.

This same week The New Yorker was toasting its centennial, another Manhattan humor institution was celebrating its 50th: Saturday Night Live. It, too, has had a significant influence on me going back to high school. 

Twice for BBYO [Jewish teen youth group] talent shows, my friends and I did our own version of “Weekend Update.” 

Around the same time, one of those friends and I attended a comedy show of Dana Carvey, Dennis Miller, and Jon Lovitz—and we brought our own material in case they asked for audience volunteers to come on stage and do a short routine. [Uh, they didn’t.]

All these years later, I still haven’t hosted SNL or sold a cartoon to TNY. I wasn’t even invited to attend the SNL 50th anniversary special. But being a lifelong fan is its own reward.

P.S. Survivor, which turns 25 this year, has also inspired me.

Superman/Batman displays by librarians hosting my school visits

I've had the privilege of speaking at schools in 30+ states and almost 20 countries. School librarians worldwide have a gift for rolling out the read carpet for visiting authors. 

With Superman and Batman as my headliners, librarians have a lot of material to play with.

Sometimes that welcome is a splashy display. Sometimes it's a student-driven project. Sometimes it's a cheeky sign to reserve a parking space [not a requirement of mine, only an appreciated courtesy].

My librarian partners have greeted me with custom T-shirts, graffiti, pumpkins, cake, LEGO, ginormous banners, and so much more.

Here is a gallery of memorable efforts I've documented. [These span years and I didn't note every face/location, so no IDs. Speak up if it's yours!]