I have a dark secret. It's so black that if MyUnwife knew about it, I'd have started this blog a long time ago. Now I feel it's time to let my secret go.
I watch, Who Wants to be a Superhero?
I know, I can't even tell my family. They'd disown me.
I started watching a little over a year ago. I was cutting some Plexiglas for a room we were redoing. I had what's now my kitchen table set up in front of the TV, and the show was on for background noise. (No, really at that point that's how it was. But that's how it starts. Just a little fix…) Sci-Fi Channel was running an all day marathon, and I'm circling the table with a T-Square and a box knife. By the time they've aired the finial episode I'm planted on the couch, guessing who's gonna win. I was right. It was this little guy. You could tell he wanted to be a superhero really, really, really bad. Actually "wanted" is a poor choice of words. I think he already believed he was a superhero. I noticed how during every episode they kept him tethered when near rooftops. Had he tried to fly from one? I don't know. The culmination of the season seemed to prove: if you want it bad enough you can have anything.
I don't really subscribe to that. Nor do I believe that you should have anything you want. Sometimes, "no" is a bigger blessing, and sometimes it's not no, it's just an issue of timing. Yesterday I tried crossing the street, but there was a garbage truck speeding towards me. That was an issue of timing. Of course I wish somebody told me that before the truck cracked three ribs. That would have been nice. But it's TV, they get instant gratification, they get me watching, whatever. They got what they wanted.
This season's WWTBAS brought a new cast of wannabe characters. I didn't really get into the show until mid season, when most of them were gone. And yeah, I was pretty good at guessing who was gonna lose their license to act super. One thing did strike me though. This became more of a show about teamwork. Sure, they were competing, but they still had to work together. No back stabbing? No super power punch to the groin? I can't imagine there were many viewers. Still I watched.
The guy who won was a cop from Texas. I think his name was Walker, a Texas ranger…
No, not really, but he was a Texas cop. I forget what city, Texas is a big state, and I'm more concerned with my corner of the world than his. But they flew out his wife, and he cried. (See? He definitely wasn't Walker.)
Another finalist was this sweet woman from Sherman Oaks. She was some super-maid cleaning up the world for a better tomorrow. I have to admit, I was routing for her. She wasn't super strong, and she wasn't super comely, but she had the biggest heart. She's the type of woman I wanted in my corner. Always encouraging the others, always making them better. In one of the last episodes, she sacrificed herself as bait, to an attack dog, so the others could complete the mission. You could tell she was terrified, but she did it. I was like "wow." I'd already been routing for her for quite a while though. I think she won my heart when she called her husband. She was near breaking down, She thought she might lose the contest at any moment. She called her husband, and laid her problems out. He listened, he bolstered her up, and then you know what he said?
He said, "Do your best, you're already my superhero. I love you." How do you compete with that? It's like that scene in Life is Beautiful where they march Roberto Benigni into a back alley. If that doesn't tear your eyes you're inhuman and should be launched back into space, back to whatever planet you came from. I think this touched me, because it wasn't just her, she had the support of a husband, and he obviously had her. They were very lucky.
That's what I wanted. That's what I thought I got. I didn't. I'm not going to blurt off into some blathering diatribe about how I was wronged. I just didn't get it. How do I know? Simple. If that's what I'd got, I'd miss it. There'd be a dull ache where that used to be. You know, the type of ache you feel when somebody amputates your right arm with a broken-tooth hacksaw. Maybe you don't know, but you can imagine.
No? We'll it's in the same family of ache. Take my word they don't call me lefty for nothing. Ok, they don't call me lefty at all, but if they did, it would be because some idiot cut my arm off with a hacksaw.
And that's how I'd know I'd had that type of relationship. I'm not blaming her. I guess she didn't have that type of relationship either. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing this now. Who walks away from that type of thing? I know, the same person who doesn't bawl at Life is Beautiful. Well I was there, she did. I think we did work that way for a bit, but then complacency set in and the first page of the color brochure is the first thing into the shredder. I want my first page to last. I want my sandy beaches drinking rum every night. ( Yeah, I know, everybody Googling the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band lyrics are now gonna hit my page. That'll make 4 very angry people, besides me, looking for the "American Dream." How does it feel?).
So, I think I'm gonna put that on the front page of my new brochure. It's what I want. But one of the things I learned, is it's not something you can expect the other person to bring with them. It's not a mystic superpower. It's a craft; it's something you have to create together. I like together. I think I'll put that in my brochure too. Now if she can just get past my music, TV viewing habits, singing, and the other fine print items, I should be set.
Excelsior!
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