Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

First We’ll Work on Mannered; Mild Comes Later

with one comment

The superhero inside me, just waiting to burst forth, received a dose of encouragement this morning when a friend commented that I looked like I had a secret superhero identity. This is not completely unexpected, since as kids, both my brothers’ looks prompted comparisons to Superman (I, on the other hand, had to settle for, “You look like that guy whose brothers look like Superman.”).

Since I’ve yet to decide, at age thirty-five, what I want to be when I grow up, superhero remains a possibility. Not a comic book superhero, mind you; those make for high drama, low-cut blouses and dubious moral rectitude. I prefer a more down-to-earth, practical type of vigilante, one that I think you will agree is sorely needed.

For example, last Saturday night, as Mrs. Thag and I were trying to unload the kids and belongings from the car, we saw and heard a neighbor confront a dog walker who let his pooch poop in the lot in front of their house (next to ours) and began walking away as if nothing were wrong. Though I didn’t catch the offender’s exact words, this woman felt sufficiently miffed at his response that, at a loss over how to handle such flagrant disregard, she called over her husband. At this point the jerk began leading his animal away, with the deposit still lying there. As he passed me, I remarked how considerate it was of him to leave his mess for others to clean up. “I’ll make messes wherever I want,” he barked as he continued, and followed with a threat of violence if I persisted.

Well, what’s a wiseacre to do but persist? “You’re so manly! Everyone can see how manly you are! We’re all so impressed!” He probably didn’t hear everything I directed his way as he went around the corner, but I felt I had done enough, under the circumstances, to defend the honor of the wronged.

But as a superhero, I could go the extra mile and mete out actual justice: my super speed and vision would track this scumbag home, where I would deposit his lost object, with interest, on his bed and/or dining room table.

Others who would feel the long, uh, arm of retribution: those who board the subway and stop in the doorway despite the space available further inside the car (they would find themselves removed to the very rear of the crowd); litterbugs (see above regarding the dog poop), with special treatment meted out to smokers who dispose of their butts in places other than ash trays (they will awake in the middle of the night to find those butts in their nostrils); drivers who neglect to make sure the intersection is clear before entering it, thus generating gridlock (car removed to somewhere inaccessible), as well as the drivers further back honking at those in the front to proceed into a not-yet-clear intersection (they will find their horns automatically administer an electric shock); parents who do not buckle their small children into car seats (videos and reports submitted to child welfare authorities); and drivers who exercise their right to freedom of expression by blasting “music” from their car stereos at a volume of eleven (strapped to a chair and forced to listen to Barry Manilow at half speed for eighteen hours at a time)(that may be a bit harsh, but not very).

Such a superhero would find his time constrained, considering the number of offenders whose violations of simple courtesy, not to mention safety, require this special kind of therapy. So I shall have to allocate specific hours during which to fight the rising tide of inhumanity. Morning and evening rush hours obviously top the list in terms of urgency, but a few late nights ought to take care of the other creeps.

That would leave me time to blog, as well. It’s a win-win situation. Unless you happen to be one of my readers.

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Written by Thag

October 24, 2010 at 6:14 pm

One Response

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  1. LOL I just love it!!!I want to be a superhero too!!!

    ChaseK8

    October 24, 2010 at 8:59 pm


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