A Twenty-One Year Overdue Thank You

Dear Matt Stone and Trey Parker,

Let me start of by saying, I'm certain you get more mail than you know what to do with, all ranting and raving about what a horrible show South Park is.  It's vile, vulgar, abhorrent...  yeah, you get it.

And I'm not disputing that...  but this isn't a letter to tell you how much I hate you.  I want to tell you thank you.

Thank you, because in my teenage years, when it's hard for girls to relate to their fathers, my dad and I watched your show.  Religiously.  We laughed until we damn near hurt ourselves.  His favorite episode was Rainforest Schmainforest, while I favored Terrance and Phillip's fart jokes.  Daddy would call me when I got home from school, every day, to tell me that, "Mandi, the bastards killed Kenny!"  And we'd laugh and hurt ourselves some more.  We didn't even need to watch your show to laugh our asses off at it.  

My father died of cancer when I was seventeen, and I was beyond devastated.  I tell you that to tell you this; during a turbulent time of my life, (puberty is always turbulent, I think it's a law somewhere), when it was kinda hard to relate with my dad, we had South Park.  We loved your show, it was "our thing."  In some ways, it still is.  The week that he died, Rainforest Schmainforest was on a rerun on Comedy Central, and I watched it, my heart broken, and I laughed...  You made me laugh 'till I cried.

But you gave me some very precious memories with my father, and for that, I cannot possibly thank you enough.  Thank you for giving me those last few memories of my dad, for Kenny's death(s) at the hands of The Bastards that he'd always call me about.  I can't tell you what I'd do to get just one more phone call from him, letting me know of Kenny's passing, and that The Bastards were responsible for it.  Thank you for giving us something to talk about during a time when there wasn't much to say.  (I was sixteen, and sixteen year old girls think their dads are crazy and weird.  I think this is a law somewhere, too.)  

Thank you for those memories of my dad.  Thank you for giving us something to bond over.  Thank you for giving me a nonverbal way to tell my dad how much I loved him, and though he's not here to say it for himself, I know that my father thanks you, too, for giving him a way to tell his daughter how much he loved her.  I still hear and feel it every time I watch South Park...  especially when The Bastards kill Kenny.

I'm sorry this thank you letter, or whatever this is, came pretty late in the game; twenty-one years later, but I hope you'll forgive that.  It wasn't that I was too busy or too lazy to say this to you, I was too broken.  I still am and always will be...  but there's a vile, vulgar and abhorrent TV show that somehow finds a way to heal those wounds of the loss of a parent...   and a friend.

Thank you.  For everything.  For being vile.  And vulgar.  And abhorrent...  and perfect.

I love you.

Mandi