LIFE IN THE COLE BIN

By Burton W. Cole

He was my first superhero. There was no need to fear when he was around, especially if your name was Sweet Polly Purebred.

“When Sweet Polly’s in trouble, I am not slow, it’s hip, hip, hip, and away I go.”

I refer to, of course, that champion of champions, Underdog.

(Underdog always spoke in rhyme, making him my favorite poet as well. Bugs Bunny introduced me to opera; Underdog delivered the poetry. I became a Renaissance man because I grew up on Saturday morning cartoons.)

Elsewhere on this page, my colleague Nila Harris notes that National Underdog Day is this coming Monday, Dec. 16. I geeked out at the news, until I realized that in this case, “underdog” referred to the little guy, the one who’d been counted down and out, the guy who wasn’t expected to win.

I always expected my cartoon hero Underdog to win.

Oh, not at first. The first round always went to Simon Bar Sinister or Riff Raff or the Cloud Men or Overcat.

But just when it appeared that all hope was lost, Underdog would snick open the secret compartment of his ring, where he hid his Underdog Super Energy Pill.

Much like spinach for Popeye, the pill perked Underdog, who popped back to life to pummel all who robbed and plundered.

I was 5 years old when my cartoon hero first flew onto TV screens in 1964. When I wasn’t studying Underdog, I practiced to be his Understudy.

I found a baby blanket in which the satiny binding around one of the edges had come loose. It allowed me to loop the binding over my head so that the blankey trailed down my back. I hoped that my hero wouldn’t mind that instead of being blue, my cape was festooned with quilted blue bunnies.

I have since outgrown the cape. Also, on the advice of my medical professional, I’ve stopped popping Super Energy Pills. Underdog’s were stamped with the letter “U.” Mine are stamped with the letter “M.”

Since I couldn’t find a ring with a secret compartment, I just kept the bag of M&M’s in my pants pocket. It was surprising how often I felt the need for a boost of Underdog energy.

Underdog went about his day as humble and loveable Shoeshine Boy. But when his super hearing detected a cry for help, Shoeshine Boy ducked into a phone booth, and changed into his baggy red Underdog crime-fighting uniform with the way-too-long blue cape.

The transformation always destroyed the phone booth as our hero burst forth.

This, I suspect, is why old-fashioned phone booths don’t exist today — Underdog destroyed them all while saving the world.

Underdog also had a bad habit of ignoring doors. He entered buildings by crashing through roofs and walls. He might have been my hero, but construction crews really must have loved him. There was no need to fear unemployment; there always was work to do when Underdog was near.

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I began wondering how many times Underdog was sued for damages to property, and how he paid for all those lawsuits on a shoeshine boy’s salary.

I also began to wonder as a grownup if Sweet Polly was worth the trouble of Underdog’s affection. She had to be the most helpless and hapless woman on Earth — and in outer space as well, according to a couple of episodes.

Maybe Underdog wouldn’t have to keep dipping into his supply of super energy pills if he’d dropped Sweet Polly off at a gym, a martial arts studio or signed her up for sense and sensibility classes.

But that’s cynical adult talk. Rather than ponder all that, I’m going to tie a blanket around my neck, grab a bag of my super energy M’s, pop un “The Underdog Show” DVD into my player, and shout, “There’s no need to fear, Boyhood Burtie is here.”

That’s the way to celebrate National Underdog Day.

Neither plane, nor bird, nor even frog, just little ol’ Burton playing Underdog at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.