History of The Scallion, Part 8: Birth of The Scallion!

It's finally here. The very first Scallion.

As usual, we were trying to figure out how to not make our dull lives bore the crap out of readers. Somehow we came upon the idea of writing our year in the style of The Onion. So we put our heads together and came up with some story ideas. Then I put my journalism degree to work and wrote a few "news" stories and put my Word skills to the test and designed something that looked like a newspaper. But what to call it?

We had been listening to Christmas music. We love Christmas music (during the Christmas season—we do not love Christmas music starting in October). I have a Dr. Demento Christmas CD. I love Dr. Demento. One of our favorite tracks on that CD is called "Christmas Dragnet" by Stan Freberg. Stan Freberg is awesome. And one of the lines from that track goes like this:

Frank: The missus always fixes a plate of relish with them little carrot sticks. Y'know, olives, pickles, scallions ... Most folks call 'em "green onions," but they're really scallions. Have you ever noticed that, Joe?

And thus was born The Scallion. If you were of a certain age and had really sharp eyes, you'd have seen that line in the footer of the first issue—and understood it.

So now we have a name, we have a format and we have news stories. You know what we don't have? Clever. Witty. Funny. We have comical. Laughable. Mediocre. And not in a good way.

So I give it to Vic. With the replacement of a word here, the suggestion of a new headline there, and the addition of the best quotes and zingers, now we have The Scallion that you all know and—dare I say it?—love.

We sent The Scallion out mid-December, and by Christmas, the reviews were in: The Scallion was a hit.

Read the very first Scallion here:

2006 Scallion

And if you're interested, listen to the entire Christmas Dragnet here:

Christmas Dragnet

History of The Scallion, Part 7

This is one of my favorite Christmas letters ever. The first paragraph tells the story, so I'll just leave it at that.

2005 Holiday Letter

History of The Scallion, Part 6

The 2003 Christmas letter was a hard one to top. We were strongly considering adapting a poem, and we wanted it to be The Raven. We worked on it for literally minutes, and when we realized that all we could come up with was the first line—and we were basically not going to change that line at all—we decided we'd better try something else. I, of course, suggested haiku, but we had just done that in 2002, and how can you fill up a whole letter in haiku anyway?

Suddenly, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas came into my head, and before I knew it, the letter had practically written itself.

Here it is.

2004 Holiday Letter

History of The Scallion, Part 5

OMG! This is really one of our best holiday letters ever! (What, I'm devoting a whole blog to The Scallion and you still think I'm humble?)

First of all, this is the first truly collaborative effort with Vic. His fingerprints are all over this, and we had the best time writing it.

I'm not going to say anything more about it—the letter speaks for itself, and I still have laundry to do.

But (surely you didn't think I could truly end a blog post after three paragraphs) I will say one thing: Not a lot of people put the word "poop" in their holiday letters. We are truly one of a kind. Or two of a kind? Peas in a pod? But not peas, because who likes peas? (And you pea lovers out there—I don't want to hear your defense of peas.) I'm sure you can come up with the reason we put "poop" in our holiday letter.

OK, one more thing (I swear, this is the last): There really was a toilet on the front porch of one of the townhomes we lived in. And that's why we decided to move.

2003 Holiday Letter

History of The Scallion, Part 4

2002: The Christmas Quiz.

I think this was the point that I started realizing a Christmas letter was really a horrible idea because ... that's right ... WE NEVER DO ANYTHING.

Sorry for the shouting.

But 2002 was a watershed year for The Scallion (even though it's not The Scallion yet): I recognize Vic's voice for the first time. I can still identify some of the things he said, even though it's been more than 10 years.

I also notice that my lifelong love for haiku is expressed for the first time in this letter. I am still trying to put haiku into everything I do. In fact, that's how I'll end this post:

When The Scallion is
not yet The Scallion, does it
still exist? Who knows?

2002 Holiday Letter

I am blazing through this! I'll be up-to-date in no time! ;-)

History of The Scallion, Part 3

Well, crap. I kind of thought I'd have completed the history of The Scallion by now, given that it's almost time for a new edition. But alas, I have not. So let's see how many Scallions I can get through today.

We're up to the 2001. Fudge. (Or as Ralphie would say, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuudge." Only not that.) It's not even The Scallion yet! I have a long way to go. Let's dive in.

2001, the year of the "I'm not writing a holiday letter" holiday letter. It was a tricky year. We were in New York City three days before 9/11—drove right by the towers, in fact, gleaming at sunset—and were supposed to leave Philadelphia on 9/11. So that has to be in the letter somehow, but really, I'm going to be the one to ruin Christmas with my downer of a holiday letter? I think not.

I think I ended up with a pretty good letter (and at this point, it's still my letter—Vic is not helping yet), and I really feel like I was starting to find a Scallion voice.

What do you think?

2001 Holiday Letter