I assume we are all familiar with the original Grumpy Cat created by Jim Davis, who hails from the Hoosier State, same as my husband. Alas, my husband did not catch lightning in a bottle and form an empire based on a cartoon cat. Then again, if he had, he probably wouldn’t be my husband, so it’s all good.

Garfield came on the scene in 1976 as a cartoon called Jon, which changed in 1977 to Garfield. He got nationally syndicated in 1978, and it was such a pop culture phenomenon that it registered even on my radar as a second-grader. My parents got the Chicago Tribune delivered, but at that age, the only things I read were the comics page and the horoscope, with an occasional foray into Dear Abby. It was quite a shock when the cat showed up on the banner of the front page with an accompanying article about how the cartoon had taken the world by storm. That might have been the first time I read a news article of my own volition. I’m sorry to say that it didn’t develop into a habit at that point; I was similarly startled a couple years later when Larry Hagman’s face was in the banner for literally weeks during the Who Shot J.R. summer of speculation.

My friend Kelly, who adored all things feline, had pet cats, and drew pictures like it was as natural as breathing, was a huge fan and became pretty adept at copying the style of the cartoons, adding her own snarky thought bubbles. This would have been bizarre enough to me—she never drew Snoopy or those goofball Family Circus kids—she never even drew Heathcliff. But then we started seeing Garfield everywhere. T-shirts. Coffee mugs. Little bendy plastic figures. Playing cards, greeting cards, entire paperback books of reprints.

And stationery. This is a craze that has died out, I think. I’m not sure if it happened with the advent of email or before that, but for a few years there from the late 70s through the early 80s, you were nobody if you didn’t own several 3×5 notepads (and envelopes, if your parents were flush) that were embossed with Garfield, Miss Piggy, and the like. You also wanted the Garfield pen, or the pencil topper. And this stuff was expensive, so you wrote rough drafts of notes before you let that special pen touch the actual matching notepaper.

And keep in mind, this was all from a comic strip. In the newspaper. I suspect Garfield was responsible for a lot of kids my age trying lasagna (and perhaps even coffee), and he didn’t show up on TV until the early 1980s—and I’d gotten married and had a kid was born before he showed up on the big screen in 2004. It is a testament to the enduring nature of the character that the only one of my childhood stuffed animals that my kid liked was a stuffed Garfield hugging a tiny stuffed Pookie. My kid also watched a show on Cartoon Network, then picked up my books.

It is interesting to me how times change. I wonder if such a pop fad could erupt today, with no common frame of reference. We are no longer constrained to all read the same community newspaper or choose from three nightly lineups of TV shows. Humans have always united around tragedy—where were you when Kennedy was shot/the Challenger exploded/on September 11. But it’s becoming less common for us to bond over positive things like Garfield, and I think that’s a grave loss. I might be overdramatizing, but I also think this reflects a big shift in our national culture and personality. And it’s not for the better.

Tell me I’m wrong. Give me a positive universally recognized pop culture event from the 2020s.I could use the pick-me-up!