Growing up, I think my first encounter with Mad Magazine came thanks to my cousin Akeel. He had a stash of them, and as soon as I laid eyes on that first copy, I was hooked. There was something captivating about Mad—it wasn’t just another magazine. It felt like discovering an underground world of satire, comedy, and creativity.

I soon found myself collecting issues whenever I could. Each one became a new treasure, a glimpse into a world that was simultaneously hilarious and insightful. The magazine wasn’t as mainstream as most things I’d seen, which made it feel like a secret shared by those in the know. It had an edge and quirkiness that appealed to the mischief in me, the desire to look at things with a different, almost rebellious perspective.

The artists were a huge part of that magic. Sergio Aragones, with his tiny “drawn-out dramas” in the margins, made me feel like I was catching hidden jokes that not everyone else would notice. And then there was Don Martin, whose characters, all with their exaggerated facial expressions and comic timing, left me rolling with laughter. His work showed me that humor could come from the simplest expressions, sounds, or body language—something I still appreciate to this day.

Perhaps one of the biggest impacts Mad had on me was inspiring my early sketches and creativity. I started playing around with ideas similar to those in Mad, attempting my own goofy characters and scenarios. In fact, my character Sawtooth was born from those very inspirations. It was as if each issue nudged me to unleash my imagination a little more, not worrying about fitting in with the “mainstream” or being “serious.” Instead, it was about having fun, poking fun at the world, and finding joy in the oddities of life.

Looking back, Mad Magazine wasn’t just a collection of humorous sketches and parodies—it was a gateway to a creative world that shaped how I see humor, art, and even life itself. It taught me that there’s beauty in the unconventional and that sometimes, the best inspiration comes from the things that sit just outside the mainstream. And, in a way, it was my first introduction to the power of satire, and that’s a gift I carry with me to this day.