Laughing Matters: The One with Unicorns

By Ryan G. Van Cleave |  Illustrations by Darcy Kelly-Laviolette

I hate unicorns.

Now wait. Before you cancel your Sarasota Scene subscription or launch this copy of the mag into the stratosphere with an only-heard-by-dogs screech of horror, let me explain myself.

I REALLY hate unicorns.

And I think we all know why.

Yes, there’s something sinister about a magical critter that poops rainbows and zips about in a cloud of glitter and sparkle. 

And there’s a National Unicorn Day (April 9!). WHAT????

Plus of course, all parents everywhere are horrified at the unicorn invasion of the kidlit marketplace. It’s more than just books, though. They’re on wallpaper. Pillows. Cereal boxes. Kid undies. PJs. Bookbags. Coffee mugs. Pencils. 

Is nothing safe from this unicorn plague?

I’d have to say that as a parent of two semi-young girls, I receive 9,4883,32.3% of the government-suggested % Daily Value of Unicorn-ness. That alone is reason enough, right?

But the #1 reason that I REALLY hate unicorns (and quite frankly, so should you!) is this.

I was traumatized by a unicorn in the fourth grade. 

This big, ugly unicorn monster stormed up to me at the front steps of Shady Lane Elementary School, stole my lunch money, stomped on my R2D2 backpack, and then stabbed me in the stomach with its razor-sharp silver-tipped horn.

Okay. I’m exaggerating a bit. 

The horn was platinum tipped and had little tinkly bells on it.

Well, if you’re going to get all truthy about it, then it was a chubster bully named Bob and he DID steal my lunch money. He DID stomp on my R2D2 backpack. And then he stabbed me in the heart—with his horrible, jerky, bully-style laughter.

Worst of all, he was wearing a Unicorns Rule! t-shirt. Total truthiness. “How were kids not bullying that bully?” you might ask. Wish I knew!

So I hate unicorns.

But if that semi-harsh stance on these vile creatures troubles you, I can offer this to counterbalance things. I love penguins. I’m a fan of Opus the Penguin (from the Bloom County comic). I like Captain Cook, Gretta, and the others from Mr. Popper’s Penguins. And who doesn’t get a flappy pitter-patter in their aquatic hearts upon seeing The Amigos from Happy Feet?

Let me put it even more plainly. If I’m picking players for an imaginary softball team, I’m starting with Chilly Willy, Pingu, Tennessee Tuxedo, Feathers McGraw, and the whole team from Madagascar—Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private. I’d also sign up the penguin waiters from Mary Poppins, Wheezy from Toy Story 2, and Pablo the Penguin from The Three Caballeros.

Without a doubt, our team name would be The Rockhoppers.

Sidenote—my younger daughter came into my office just now and she asked me what I’m writing about. When I said I was in the middle of a Very Serious Rant about the profundity of my penguin love (and after I explained what “profundity” is), she insisted that I include her three favorite penguin jokes. Without further ado, here they are.

What do penguins like to eat?

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrritos.

What do penguins wear on their heads?

Ice caps.

What’s black, white, black, white, black, white, black, white?

A penguin rolling down a hill.

I have no idea if Sarasota Scene readers are impressed by these elementary school gems, but my kid? She can barely catch her breath from all the giggles. So . . .

Back to our regularly-scheduled column—it’s right now that I realize that my kid is wearing a unicorn clip in her hair. ARGH! I have to confront this head on, I decide. Or horn on, as the case may be.

Me: What’s so great about unicorns?

Her: They’re awesome.

Me: Because why?

Her: Duh.

It’s hard not to be persuaded by logic such as that. Maybe I do need to reconsider my stance on the horribleness that is unicorns. Perhaps they aren’t the single worst thing ever witnessed between the dawn of time and heat death of the universe.

I’ll leave you with this, dear readers. I’ve got a buddy who’s a high finance guy, and sometimes he shares a stock tip with his pals. And he’s pretty much always right.

I’m a generous person, too, so I’ll share my own tip with you. 

Penguins. 

That’s going to be the next craze. Hop off the unicorn bandwagon right this moment and waddle your way to the penguin boat. You’ll thank me later when you can wear a “I liked penguins before it was cool!” t-shirt without it being a total lie.

Got your own everyone-loves-it-but-me thing to rail about? Do you have a beef against beanbag chairs, blanket forts, or bobble heads? Do disco balls, dinosaurs, or dragons make you cringe? Are you driven to near-madness by funnel cakes, fireworks, or fairies?

If so, then fire off those perfectly-understandable rants to ryanhatesunicorns@scenesarasota.com as soon as humanly possible. If not faster.