A long-time proponent of child labor, Peter Scallion road tests a Fisher-Price mine detector in a Connecticut rice paddy, circa 1965.
The Scallion’s Editor-in-Chief/Fax Assistant Peter Scallion was born an unemployed, illiterate child of mixed-sex parents in the sleepy hamlet of Norwalk, Conn. As their seventh and frequently forgotten last child, Peter learned to fend for himself on Norwalk’s green streets, recklessly jumping curbs on his Schwinn Sting-Ray, constructing snow fortifications, and excelling at Wiffle Ball in the era before performance-enhancing drugs. At age 15, amid unproven allegations of ballot stuffing and voter intimidation, Peter won the first of his three “Caddy of the Year” titles at a local country club, thereby fulfilling his life’s potential early on.
After attending and occasionally graduating from area schools, Peter set off for the wilds of New York City, where he learned to hunt, fish, and trap. Following unsuccessful stints as a coal miner, soldier of fortune, and circus roustabout, he found his true calling in the world of journalism. Agreeing to forgo his weekly allowance, Peter joined his family’s esteemed news publication, where he demonstrated remarkable proficiency handling the flimsy, curled-up sheets of paper used in early-model facsimile machines. Peter later assumed leadership of The Scallion when his grandfather, Sydney J. Scallion, was found guilty of masterminding a failed coup against the Danish monarchy.
When not toiling away for a pittance at The Scallion news factory, Peter enjoys tightrope walking, time travel, and fancy Starbucks cocktails. As the proud owner of 11 nieces and nephews, he has been compiling material for his book My 34 Years in the Uncle Business. Peter’s gripping memoir, Sun, Sun, Go Away, chronicles the pigmentally challenged author’s brave battle against S.A.D. (Spring Afflicted Depression), in which bright, warm days and frolicking strangers send him into an inconsolable funk.
Once named “Dreamiest Mathlete” by Tiger Beat magazine, Peter considers his expansive forehead, childbearing hips, and opposable thumbs his most flattering features. At press time, he remains without tattoos or piercings. Peter lives within his means but without real meaning on the Isle of Manhattan.
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