The hardest part about being a superhero

Being a superhero has a certain magnificence that had always seemed unattainable for someone like me. Sure, I knew the difference between right and wrong - that is the easy part. The hard part is discovering your special talent. Some people spend their entire lives trying to figure it out and never experience the joy of stopping a single criminal act. There is a nursing home down the block from my office that is filled with dreams of being a superhero. Dreams like that leave you the same time you leave life and never a moment sooner. When I first decided to be a superhero or at least start walking along that path, the realization that I had no special abilities or any particularly outstanding physical attributes was difficult to accept. My wife was very supportive and encouraged me, saying it probably takes some people longer to figure out their superhero identity and for me not to pressure myself too much. Each moment that passed without me knowing my talent was a victory for evil everywhere.

The big players -Superman, Aquaman, Wonder Woman- they're the blue bloods in this business and it is really unfortunate because they don't understand how hard it is for the regular guy to become a hero. They were born with their unique abilities, and they never flaunt it. They never try to relate to us or understand our position, while we stand around in awe of them. Sure, we know they're great, stopping the supervillains from destroying the world once or twice a week. But, they don't realize how much we contribute by fighting the smaller crimes to allow them to concentrate on the really bad guys. To be honest, Superman is a kind of a jerk. He sent me a tailoring bill for destroying his cape once. I framed it.

I attempted a few personas. I briefly appeared as The Hypnotizing Guy - but it took too long to hypnotize the criminal and usually they weren't concentrating hard enough on the watch and finding a watch that I felt commanded respect was not cheap. I got beat up pretty bad four times amd got the watches stolen too. My next attempt was as the Marble Man. I would throw a bunch of marbles at my foes to incapcitate them. Unfortunately, I never could figure out how to reach them and I kept falling down and knocking myself out. Sudden movements tend to make me faint. Other, less successful incarnations were the Human Car Tire, Johnny Flashlight (Mag Lite didn't appreciate that), The Foghorn, Glitterer. None of these were me.

A couple of summers ago, I'm watching He-Man with my oldest kid, Harry. I watch Adam lift his sword up and all that electricity surge into him and be transformed from a simple, high-voiced prince to a muscular, baritoned hero. I stood up slowly afterwards without speaking and left the room with finishing the episode. That episode of He-Man was speaking to me. For years, I had been searching for my identity and now I knew. I was Adam. I was going to be He-Man. Sort of. Unfortunately, the closest thing I had to a sword was a set of golf clubs and I didn't know any witches. I had never been so depressed. So, I went to driving range to hit some golf balls. That is my thinking spot.

It was a dark and stormy afternoon, but I didn't notice, too consumed with my thoughts. No one else was on the range. Standing alone and feeling entirely incapable, I pointed my three iron toward the sky and shut my eyes, imagining myself as Adam receiving the powers from Castle Grayskull. It felt so real.

I woke up in a white room with my wife and kids around me. Dazed and aching all over, the doctor proceeded to tell me it was a miracle that I survived. I had been simultaneously struck by three separate bolts of lightning while standing with the golf club raised in the air according to the operator of the driving range. Deep down, I knew the miracle wasn't to have lived but to have been reborn as a superhero.