MAD poisoned/redeemed my mind early-on; my uncles had a couple shelves of the reprint paperbacks that I would go through on holidays and summers-at-my-grandparents’ house. In particular Up Madison Avenue instilled me with a deep-set suspicion of advertising. Suspicion is probably the wrong word. Skepticism is more likely.
At some point I found a foot-high stack of actual issues from the late sixties; they had disappeared from the house by the late-nineties, however, and nobody claimed responsibility for having them. DAMN!
I still have a soft-spot for Mad. I’ve got several of the decade-collections, and the covers. Mad About Comic Strips left me somewhat cold, and I eventually sold my copy on Amazon.
How to be a MAD Non-Conformist