Written by Erin Crawford Oct. 5, 2008

I have always considered myself the sort of person who gets it. What is it exactly? Exactly. The joke, the skinny, the insider information stuff. So why don’t I like The Onion?

I have always been a little uncomfortable with The Onion. It is not that I don’t get it. I mean, I get it. Certainly, I am a fan of straight faced attempts at humor. Humor is my first line of defense. It is the security blanket I wrap around myself while in the fetal position of life. Satire? Irony? I am on it. Love it. So what was going on here? I decided to get to the bottom of things and take a good, long look at myself and The Onion.

I traced the problem back to an old, old boyfriend, naturally. I was first introduced to The Onion long ago by a boyfriend who was always playing pranks on me. Pranks such as “Let’s go out!” and then I wouldn’t hear from him for days. Months, even. Only to find out later that he was on a beach in Bali living in a hut. He was always blowing in and out of my life quite dramatically with outrageous stories and the occasional gift. One time he came home from a trip to Mexico bearing a bag of sand as a gift, which he dumped on my dorm room floor so I could feel like I was “there”. I think there may be a link between my reluctance to embrace The Onion and lingering trust issues tracing back to this particular boyfriend.

I met “Jackson” back in 1984 when I was busy being a totally insecure 8^th grader. He was a grade ahead of me. In the spring of 8^th grade I was on a track team and my event was the high jump. I was decent enough to be selected to go to a special track meet. (not like that). “Jackson” was one of the student coach types who assisted the high jumpers. One thing led to another (not like that) and he either gave me his phone number or asked me for mine. I do recall eventually getting the nerve up ask him to my 8^th grade social. He politely declined, citing his FRESHMAN in high school status. It would be un-cool. I was devastated. More importantly, I was totally embarrassed. I felt misled somehow.

“Jackson” and I then dated later in high school for a minute. In college we dated for another minute. The underlying current of our dating relationship was based on my perception that he was a much cuter version of Ferris Bueller. Unpredictable, wacky and prone to flight. Literally. Like the time he dropped out of college to travel around the world. Of course, the lingering rejection of the 8^th grade social invite may have been in the back of my mind. Anyway, I got married, moved out west; divorced, moved back east where I ran into him on his way moving out west. And so on. We never attempted to “date” again, but instead settled into a nice virtual friendship via email after years of total dating mayhem. It was around that time that he would send me links to things like “Furniture Porn” or stuff blowing up in microwaves, and finally, my point, stuff from “The Onion”.

I am pretty sure that if I had discovered The Onion through my own devices, I would have proudly announced it to the world. Look everyone! Look how my choices in reading material reflect how very smart and cool and totally with it I am! I get it! I would have inside joke knowingly chuckled to myself about all the FUNNY real world things that The Onion skewered. Instead, I begrudgingly acknowledge its existence in my life. The Onion via “Jackson” gave me pause. Maybe the worry is that my 8^th grade self might have been a little misled by The Onion humor. What if I almost didn’t get it- even as an adult? I shudder at the thought of what if I was so not getting it? Not being in on the joke? The horror! Feeling like I was in over my head in the humor department? I cannot even bear the thought.

I feel a certain sense of sympathy for those who don’t get it, like China that time. And Deborah Norville. Really though, I would love to know how Sarah Palin feels about The Onion. Curious and curiouser. I’ll see if “Jackson” can get on that.