As a kid it was part of the required summer reading collection during sleep-outs under the light of the flashlight.
“Long time and current subscriber to the print edition, which I treasure when the mailman slips it thru the door, angering my wife.”
My first paying gig was selling my brother’s old MAD mags out of a wagon when I was five years-old and read it through half my teens.
My son brought a recent copy home that was accidentally sent to his biz. Compared to the old days it was unreadable and full of PC and social justice BS.