Old Icons
I have been a comic book fan forever. Well, as long as forever counts within my lifespan. My parents read Batman and Superman comic books to me as bedtime stories until I learned to read and could put myself to sleep with that week's twenty-odd pages of super-heroics.
Growing up, I idolized those brightly (or in the case of Batman, not-so-brightly) costumed icons of the DC Universe. The first movie I distinctly remember watching was Superman. To this day, I still get chills (and sometimes tears in my eyes) when Chris Reeve's Superman tells a confused Lois Lane, "Easy miss, I've got you." To me, there is nothing more defining in my childhood than those fictional people who dressed in flowing capes and well-stocked utility belts.
That's why it has brought me so much joy in the past few weeks to see Superman merchandise lining the shelves of every major toy, game and clothing retailer in the Tri-State area. The Old Icons are returning, pushed into the narrow and frequently shortly time-framed vision of this younger generation of kids. Where sports stars and wrestlers had taken over for mutants and metahumans in the realm of Those Who Are Idolized By 9-Year Olds, now I've seen quite a few kids in the mall knocking over their not-so-bald Lex Luthor impersonator friends with their much-forced super-breath.
I hear "whoosh"-ing again. And this time, It's not coming from me! No doubt, I've partaken in the enjoyable habits of lining my dresser's t-shirt drawer with a veritable Justice League wardrobe - Batman, Superman, The Flash, and Green Lantern, to name a few! But the greatest joy I get in wearing these clothes is when people recognize the hero they symbolize.
As I was leaving Pirates of the Caribbean 2 earlier this evening, on one of the multiple escalators to the street, I was pointed at by two very drunken Irish women leaving Dave & Buster's, one of whom exclaimed, "Oooh, look, he's Superman!" As they stumbled to the broken escalator, I suggested I might fly them to the ground and was immediately offered the more drunken woman's arm. I took it and escorted her to street level - on foot, obviously; my powers of flight are lacking at the moment - and told them to "Be safe, ladies." It's not quite as impressive as floating them down from a burning building, but they seemed to get a kick out of it, no less. Without sounding too narcissistic, I'd imagine it's cause I'm a cute young guy, but I saw it as, in some small way, personifying the ideals of a true hero - not strength or invulnerability, but courtesy and good humor.
But, without a doubt, the greatest joy for me tonight came as I was getting off the PATH train at Newport/Pavonia. Right before I hit the stairs, I heard some kids yell, "Superman!" Without a hesitation, I turned towards them and shot them a big smile, which was returned by even bigger smiles. They didn't mistake me for someone with a great amount of power or the ability to fly. They didn't even mistake me for the actor who most recently took on the role of the hero whose name they exclaimed. They simply recognized the logo on the shirt as being representative of one of the greatest comic book heroes - if not the greatest comic book hero - to ever grace the pages of American print media.
They might have been seeing me, but they called out his name. So I'll turn and smile at them, because it's what he'd do if he were real. And that's the most important thing that heroes do for us - not make us want to be heroes, but want to be like heroes. It doesn't take super hearing or heat vision - it takes concern for your fellow man, courtesy towards others, and the good humor that goes along with being someone at whom kids can yell "Superman!"
Growing up, I idolized those brightly (or in the case of Batman, not-so-brightly) costumed icons of the DC Universe. The first movie I distinctly remember watching was Superman. To this day, I still get chills (and sometimes tears in my eyes) when Chris Reeve's Superman tells a confused Lois Lane, "Easy miss, I've got you." To me, there is nothing more defining in my childhood than those fictional people who dressed in flowing capes and well-stocked utility belts.
That's why it has brought me so much joy in the past few weeks to see Superman merchandise lining the shelves of every major toy, game and clothing retailer in the Tri-State area. The Old Icons are returning, pushed into the narrow and frequently shortly time-framed vision of this younger generation of kids. Where sports stars and wrestlers had taken over for mutants and metahumans in the realm of Those Who Are Idolized By 9-Year Olds, now I've seen quite a few kids in the mall knocking over their not-so-bald Lex Luthor impersonator friends with their much-forced super-breath.
I hear "whoosh"-ing again. And this time, It's not coming from me! No doubt, I've partaken in the enjoyable habits of lining my dresser's t-shirt drawer with a veritable Justice League wardrobe - Batman, Superman, The Flash, and Green Lantern, to name a few! But the greatest joy I get in wearing these clothes is when people recognize the hero they symbolize.
As I was leaving Pirates of the Caribbean 2 earlier this evening, on one of the multiple escalators to the street, I was pointed at by two very drunken Irish women leaving Dave & Buster's, one of whom exclaimed, "Oooh, look, he's Superman!" As they stumbled to the broken escalator, I suggested I might fly them to the ground and was immediately offered the more drunken woman's arm. I took it and escorted her to street level - on foot, obviously; my powers of flight are lacking at the moment - and told them to "Be safe, ladies." It's not quite as impressive as floating them down from a burning building, but they seemed to get a kick out of it, no less. Without sounding too narcissistic, I'd imagine it's cause I'm a cute young guy, but I saw it as, in some small way, personifying the ideals of a true hero - not strength or invulnerability, but courtesy and good humor.
But, without a doubt, the greatest joy for me tonight came as I was getting off the PATH train at Newport/Pavonia. Right before I hit the stairs, I heard some kids yell, "Superman!" Without a hesitation, I turned towards them and shot them a big smile, which was returned by even bigger smiles. They didn't mistake me for someone with a great amount of power or the ability to fly. They didn't even mistake me for the actor who most recently took on the role of the hero whose name they exclaimed. They simply recognized the logo on the shirt as being representative of one of the greatest comic book heroes - if not the greatest comic book hero - to ever grace the pages of American print media.
They might have been seeing me, but they called out his name. So I'll turn and smile at them, because it's what he'd do if he were real. And that's the most important thing that heroes do for us - not make us want to be heroes, but want to be like heroes. It doesn't take super hearing or heat vision - it takes concern for your fellow man, courtesy towards others, and the good humor that goes along with being someone at whom kids can yell "Superman!"
posted by Dave at 11:48:00 PM
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