Parable of the Not-So-Superhero

I always thought I would have more muscles. You wouldn’t think that a superhero would have man-handles. But I do. It turns out that super strength doesn’t have anything to do with the size of your muscles. So my arms are the same size they were before I knew I had these abilities. And there isn’t really any way to improve them. I mean, I have super strength. Exactly how am I supposed to exercise? And it turns out superheroes don’t all have washboard stomachs. So my stomach looks about the same as all the other guys my age. Not terrible, but starting to hang over my belt a little. And what am I supposed to do to raise my metabolism? I can speed around the world and not even raise my heartbeat. The elliptical doesn’t exactly go fast enough. It’s just not turning out the way I thought it would.

And why doesn’t anyone warn you about superhero costumes? First of all, glasses… not a disguise. If your mom wears contacts and takes them out before bed, when she puts on her glasses, you still know its your mom. Immediately. No disguise at all. And the costumes? Terrible. The spandex of Adam West and Christopher Reeve is incredibly awkward. And how are you supposed to disguise who you really are? A small mask around your eyes? Doesn’t work. The only way is a full mask, but then you look like an out of shape Mexican wrestler.

And you know what else no one discusses? Finances. You don’t get paid for stopping crimes or saving lives. Unless you join the army or the police force. And it’s really hard to keep another job if you disappear every time you’re needed elsewhere. I mean, think about it. How long would you keep your job if you just disappeared a few times a day? Not long. So, I’ve had to start my own business and be self-employed, but then taxes kill you. The only other option is not to have a secret identity and be a sell-out, supporting products and making money through endorsements. But your spandex outfit over your huge Nike hightops looks a little awkward. There you go to fight crime in your Mt. Dew-mobile.

And the funny thing is I find myself on the computer just like everyone else. I missed a bank robbery because I was in the middle of a World of Warcraft quest. Sometimes I even play Sims. Which means that I’m a real superhero, online pretending to be a normal person. It’s strange that we spend so much time wishing we were someone else. Even Facebook pages are us presenting a certain image to the world. I have a Facebook page for me as a normal person and me as a superhero. One has 10 million friends, and one has 7. Guess which is which.

I guess this just hasn’t turned out like I thought it would. I thought it would finally provide the fulfillment I had been looking for. I thought I would feel needed and wanted. But I still find myself wanting. Being a superhero isn’t quite what I thought it would be.

Thoughts? Interpretations? Wisdom?