Look! Up in the sky! It’s... Dumbo?
BURTON W. COLE, Editor
By Burton Cole
A friend posed the question: If you could have a superpower, what would it be?
I’ve been daydreaming about superpowers almost my whole life. It started when I was 4 and looped an old blanket around my neck so I could be Underdog.
As the years passed, I morphed into an array of superheroes, such as Spider-man, Wolverine and Space Ghost, each with their own delicious powers. I wanted to fly, to swung across city landscapes, and zap and shred anything that got in the way of my heroics, so I could save the beautiful — and kissably appreciative — damsels in distress.
Sixty-some years later my daydreams of superpowers have adjusted to even greater and braver heights.
Now I fantasize about possessing the superpower of telekinesis. No more bending over to pick up the fork I dropped. Or pushing myself back out of my easy chair just after getting comfy when I’ve discovered that I left my Pop-Tarts in the kitchen. I’d make them come to me!
Better yet, give me the introvert’s dream, the superpower of invisibility.
In my teens when I fantasized about the power of invisibility, it was so I could slip into places where boys weren’t allowed.
Now, I want it to disappear from social functions where I’m expected.
Wrestler John Cena’s catchphrase is, “You can’t see me,” right after which his opponent decks him. Yeah, they saw him.
But me, I’d invoke the superpower of invisibility and stay home.
But if I have to go out, I’d like a super sidekick, say like Dumbo, the flying elephant.
I’ve always wanted a pet elephant. I might as well have one that could ensure that I’d never be stuck in traffic again.
A train? Fly over it. Slowpoke driver? Dumbo would zip past him. An annoying crowd?
Let me quote you a poem my Uncle Tommy taught me:
“Birdie, birdie in the sky/Why’d you do that in my eye?/I’m sure glad that elephants can’t fly.”
But I’d have a flying elephant. And I’d be invisible.
What I absolutely don’t need is amazing strength like Superman. That would be as bad as having the superpower of owning a pickup truck — people would constantly beg me to help them move, maybe even by picking the whole house in a single lift so Dumbo and I could fly the whole thing to a new address.
The superpower of invisibility would let me stay home and get out of performing super deeds.
When I was a young married man with kids, I learned that a dad’s expected superpowers tended toward twisting stubborn lids of peanut butter jars in a single grunt (plus an “oof” and an “ugh” or two).
I also flew into action any time my wife or daughter saw a spider in the bathtub. Spiders are the arch nemesis of dad superpowers.
What dads don’t have is super hearing or super smell. We have the ability for super sleep — until shaken awake by a beautiful spouse in distress hissing, “Did you hear that?” or “Something smells hot,” followed by the command: “Go check it out.”
Now I know why the Batman wears such a long cape — it’s really a blankie, much like the one I wore when I was 4 years old.
When the beautiful damsel pleads for her hero to fight an imaginary smell or sound — I’ve already got my blanket with me. It’s the superpower of snooze anywhere preparedness.
Better yet, the superpower of invisibility would have kept the damsel from finding me in the first place.
Unless I also super snore.
Fly into action with Cole at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.