Monday, October 18, 2010

Waiting for Superman . . . still waiting . . . waiting . . .

I always fancied myself as a modern day Superman. I believed I could be a hero. Unfortunately, I have learned I am more closely related to a modern day Clark Kent. I wear glasses, I’m somewhat awkward, a little nerdy, and not the picture of a modern day hero. Fortunately for my dream, there is always a phone booth around the corner. (Writers note; “a phone booth around the corner” is a phrase used to make a connection between my heroic opportunities and the original Superman, who changed into his outfit in a phone booth when heroic opportunities presented themselves. However, since the increased usage of cellular phones, there are actually very few phone booths available anywhere. In fact, the last one I saw was in Washington D.C. and I wouldn’t want to get into that thing to make a call, much less, strip off my clothes and get into tights and a cape, but I digress.)

Recently, I turned the corner and found my phone booth. My wife was driving home from a meeting and gave me a call. The tire on her car had blown and was flat and she was stuck on the side of the road and needed help . . . a hero’s help. This was my moment, where was my cape?!?!

What was my heroic response? I said, in a most loving tone, “I don’t have time for this!”

What did you expect? I told you I was more like Clark Kent. In my effort to be a hero, when a heroic opportunity knocked at my door, I stumbled all over myself trying to find a phone booth. “Stumbled all over myself,” probably isn’t the right term. I yelled, “I’m not home!” when opportunity knocked at my door. Superman never left a damsel in distress, I left my wife waiting on the side of the road for her Superman. Pretty sad, eh? Well, the good news is, I redeemed myself (or at least I tried), when shortly after my less-than supportive comments on the phone, I rushed out the door and changed the tire in record time.

Later that same week, I came down with a stomach virus and laid in bed for two days. Superman had kryptonite. I had a microscopic virus. During this same time, my wife was fighting what seemed to be the same virus. The difference, you ask? I laid in bed, my wife cleaned the house, cared for the kids, and took care of her Superman (who moaned and groaned about how awful he felt).

In review, it was not my most heroic week. In fact, in comparison to my wife, it was downright pathetic. However, there was a lesson in the events of this week. Everyone can be a hero, some of us do it by taking care of a family, some of us change tires, and some of us run to a phone booth and change into tights and a cape (a legal note; it is probably not wise to change clothes in a public place, particularly if you are wearing tights and a cape).

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