I’m no Superman
It’s another weekend where the superheroes are battling against world domination, while, albeit ironically, dominating the world, at least – pop-culturally. If you watched the Super Bowl, you might have noticed that most of the movies coming your way have super-powered people in them. This weekend, “Ant-Man & the Wasp: Quantumania” hit the silver screen.
These Shrinky-Dinks are going to be huge at the box office.
I wouldn’t want to be able to shrink to ant size or grow giant-sized. You could die as a cat toy. I’m not sure which superpower would suit me best. Then, I pondered.
Super strength seemed obvious at first, but I realized it would be like owning a pickup truck. Everyone would ask you to help them move. You’d be picking up refrigerators and sofas all of the time.
Side note: I believe whole-heartedly that after the age of 30 a person should hire professional movers. When friends ask me to help them move, I say, “I’m sorry. I can’t risk my back for two slices of pizza.”
Additional side note: You may have noticed I’ve been dieting. Pizza shows up a lot in this column.
But I digress, like I do. I have considered super speed. Why? I can get to work five minutes earlier. I’d have to run everywhere. Pass. I barely run now. I can’t see having a superpower that I only use to get to the snack cupboard faster during commercials.
Walking through walls would be nice. You can take short cuts through buildings and fences, but, once again, it’s just a faster way to get to work. I can’t think of any practical purpose. You could fool your friends into thinking you’re a ghost, but that would only be fun for a few minutes. I’d use my power for pranking.
What about invisibility? It’s definitely a power for perverts. I imagine it’s time spent sitting around locker rooms waiting for someone attractive and immodest to show up. The only other application it could be good for is robbing banks. It’s not a power for nice guys.
Frankly, I’m over here flailing about, going “look at me!” I’ve spent my whole life trying NOT to be invisible.
Being stretchy like Mr. Fantastic, Plastic Man or Stretch Armstrong seems like another pervy power, but I wouldn’t even have to get up to reach the snack cupboard.
Flying sounds cool, but I’ve realized a strange thing about flying. Though it hasn’t been a particularly harsh winter, I don’t want to be a mile above Pittsburgh in this wind. You’d have to wear a lot of layers, which could impede your maneuverability. Superheroes don’t wear parkas.
I like the idea of teleporting, going anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. I’d be at the beach on weekends. Any beach, wherever the sun is shining. I’d look like a brown, shriveled prune by the end of the first year. A super-powered George Hamilton.
Maybe I’ll settle for being plain, old, non-powered me.