COLUMN: Oh, to be a super hero
From a very young age, I remember thinking how cool it would be to have super powers.
Every day I would flip through the channels and watch whatever program I could that featured someone or something with super-human powers. One of my favorites was Underdog. He was sooooooo very cool. I guess that is why I was him for two different Halloweens. I mean, he was just your average everyday dog and then out of no where he would become Underdog. It was very groovy to me back then.
Then there was Mighty Mouse. He was another one of my all-time heroes. And the fact that he was a mouse meant nothing to me because he could fly. For years I was known to walk around singing, “Here I am to save the day.” I tell you, I need my own super powers.
So I spent years trying to figure out which super power I wanted. And to be honest, I am not sure which one it is. I will give you the abbreviated list, just so you can get an idea about what my life’s quest has been like.
Wonder Woman had some of the coolest toys I had ever seen. I really wanted her funky little wrist things. Bullets would come flying toward her and she would protect herself from them with the flash of a wrist. And she had a cool invisible plane. You can’t go wrong with the invisible plane. She also had the pre-Zena disc thing that she would throw at people and, of course, save the day.
Now this was all good and such, until I tried to use a Frisbee as the save-the-day disk and clocked my younger brother up the side of the head in the backyard. Now, I didn’t see the problem because, after all, he was the bad guy and I was just saving the world from evil.
Spiderman was my next influence. Any boy who can climb up walls and shoot webs out of his wrist is not to be messed with. And to be able to fly through the sky on a string of web, what a rush. I knew then, I just had to be him.
Of course, rope is not the same as web and when you tie it in a tree, make sure it is securely fastened. So, here I was standing on top of our giant swing set, rope-web in hand ready to fly around the tree trunk and rush down to save my innocent girlfriend (my dog Cindy) from the evil wrong-doer (my little brother yet again.) Only one thing went wrong – I damn near hit the tree. Then, as I was preparing to swoop down and save the day, the rope came undone and I landed flat on my back gasping for air. Cindy ended up saving the day by licking me back to consciousness.
And finally, my last big influence was Superman. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to be him. OK, most of the girls in the world probably wanted to be with him, but not him. Well, you get the idea. So here was a man with X-ray vision, strength galore and the ability to fly. He was the perfect super hero.
I was walking through the store one day when I saw the answer to my Superman needs – X-ray glasses. I was so excited. I pleaded with my mother to buy the glasses. I mean, Clark Kent wore glasses and everyone knew that Clark was really Superman. I was fit to be tied. As we made our way to the check-out, glasses in hand, I was finally going to have super powers.
I got home and rushed to the backyard. I was going to look through walls and fences, and to hell if those glasses didn’t do a thing. I still couldn’t see through walls. I was devastated. Another victim of those capitalistic evil-doers who market bum products to unsuspecting consumers who get our hopes up. I was outraged. I was going to show them.
With that, when Monday rolled around I was back in school, I couldn’t wait for recess to come. I needed to step up my flight practice. I needed to perfect my form. The bell rang, I rushed to the swing set and I looped the swing over the top bar several times to give me the advantage of height. I took to the air. The rubber seat securely across my chest. And I was in motion. Soaring with the birds. It was so simple.
It was then I decided to practice my swooping dismount. I would reach the height of my up-swing and then spin out of the air and land with the perfect two-feet-on-the-ground-Olympic crowd pleaser. I prepped, I was ready and when the right moment hit, I kicked my legs over the seat and began what can only be classified as the consummate dismount. But something went wrong, terribly wrong. Was my angle wrong? Was I too close to the ground? Had I not spun fast enough?
I will never know. As I lay there on that hard blacktop looking up at the sky, I was sure I had died. I could not breath and my chest felt as if it had collapsed. So, this is what it felt like when a super hero died. I was certain I never wanted to be one again.
Now, I just walk the streets like everyone else. I will never speed faster than a speeding bullet (at least not on foot) and I will never have an invisible plane, but I guess we can’t all be super heroes.
Justin Berry is working on a second degree in theater. Comments can be sent to jsberry26@hotmail.com.