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| For most of my crime fighting days, I have been content to work alone. Oh, there are the times sitting around at the local bar that some of us caped crusaders hang out at, when the talk of side kicks come up. Listening to some of the old timers talk about the benefits of having someone that always has your back always makes me wonder if it is time to give up the lone ranger style of crime fighting. Dang it, even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.
Several months back, I began to question someone about the chances of joining forces. This is never an easy process, as it involves a lot of vulnerability. When I say you have to let your masks down, I'm not just speaking figuratively. We talked about the possibilities, the commitments, and the responsibilities that would come with teaming up. I thought all was going well and was willing to make the changes in my life to accommodate a sidekick. Although after a few meetings, they informed me they thought it would be best to remain a solo act.
Well, I continued to look around for a suitable sidekick. Soon the search of the superhero oriented magazines and a few internet sites that hook up heroes paid off. Again the tough process was beginning again. I had to show some of my weaknesses and areas where I feel a sidekick could be of assistance. All was going well, and it looked like this match might actually work out.
But then like a freak meteor shower hitting a Kansas town, my life was put into a spin. Out of the blue the first sidekick potential approached me. The first sidekick had been thinking and realized it was a mistake to turn down the offer. It was explained to me that the thought behind declining at first was they wanted to be certain that they had the right motives, and not just doing it for fame or fortune.
So now the conundrum exists. I know full well that a guy like me can not handle two sidekicks. While both could be excellent partners in this battle, I must chose one. And to be honest, I do not know how to decide this debate. I guess I could set up a series of tests of strength, abilities, and agility. Or I could just flip a coin.
Perhaps I should just continue to as a solo artist... it would make some decisions easier.
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| I will be the first to admit that most of my crime fighting is done with machines and technology. I was not born with super strength or speed. Fortunately, I have learned how to use my brains to battle the evil in the world. Well, brains mixed with some really cool gadgets. Usually, I sleep well knowing that I have helped make the place a better world with my skills. Yet some days, I wish I had the skills that people take note of. Today was one of those days...
I was just lounging around at a friends watching a documentary on King Arthur when my phone began to ring. One of my associates was in a panic. The was a report of two young ladies trapped in need of rescue. All the heroes that would normally be the first on the scene were occupied, so I got the call. They figured I could handle the physical challenges involved in rescuing two from a six story building. Plus I was a few miles away.
I did not have time to access all the tools of my trade, only what was in the storage compartment of my moped. As I sped off, the Dispatcher put me in contact with the two ladies. They informed me that they had been chased by a gang of trouble makers. Quickly they dodged into this apartment complex, but now they were in fear, as the group had not disbanded.
As I approached, I felt it was best to leave the moped a couple blocks away. Sure it gets me around, but it is not the type of vehicle that would cause evildoers to tremble. As I got to the building, I noticed a few thugs still hanging around the building. Being outnumbered, I had to think quick. I decided to act like I lived there too. I walked into the building where the ladies were, and found them. I reassured them they would be fine. Working on a hunch, we jumped into the service elevator and took it to the basement area. When we got there, my theory that the apartment buildings in this complex were interconnected proved to be right. We were able to walk under the buildings to the other side of the complex. I then escorted the ladies to their vehicle and saw them on their way.
About that time, one of the stronger heroes arrived. We decided it might be prudent to have a little session in group dynamics and community living for our friends who were still waiting outside the door. Needless to say, I doubt they will be chasing down innocent people anytime soon.
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| Bought myself another Powerball ticket today. Played the numbers 2, 4, 8, 24, 28, and 33. Not sure why I picked those numbers, or even why I told you, but I did. Sure you would think a guy with my computer skills might be able to rig the system, but it goes against the code. I agreed when I took on the name Rufus The Red that I would defend freedom, and not use any skills, powers, or abilities for personal gain.
It just kind of sucks though, as I am far from being one of the privileged costumes out there. There are several who have the means to allow them to not only do the crime fighting as a full time gig, but also be able to buy all the cool toys and gadgets. Me, I'm stuck doing odd jobs. And because my abilities take me away from time to time, I have had my share of jobs lost. I'm beginning to think I have tried most jobs out there, at least ones for that only require a high school diploma and all working limbs.
So these last few months, on my way home from substitute teaching I stop and pick up a ticket. I pick it up hoping that next month I will be one of the fortunate ones. I pick it up hoping that I can afford not to work. I pick it up hoping that the only reason that I would ever enter that convenient store again is to talk to the cute gal behind the counter. I pick it up hoping...
But for now, I continue to work. Currently teaching high school kids. Actually it is more like babysitting them while the regular teacher is sick, or just tired of coming in every day. I try to keep control over the class. All the while, wondering if they could comprehend that the nerdy guy they think they have fooled protects their sorry dope smoking asses from time to time. What would they think if they knew while is trying to maintain order, he is dreaming about numbers too?
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| I hate to dispel another myth of the superhero world, but I feel the need tonight. Contrary to most movies and television shows, superheroes are not all contenders in the super model world as well. My friend Danni pointed this out a little, but I just want to go on record on this subject.
Really, if you were counting on only the good looking super heros and heroines to save the world, mankind would be in a huge pile of poo poo. I would venture a guess that there are just as many ugly, balding, and out of shape defenders of justice as there are drop dead gorgeous ones. Actually, there are probably more average looking ones to be honest. Sure some of us wear glasses as part of our disguise, but many wear them so they can actually see things clearly. And while some like to wear wear those tight spandex, most of us really do not look good in those. It might be more aerodynamic, but not flattering. I will admit, I am a jeans and t-shirt type of superhero.
So while you might have your fantasy about being rescued by some well chiseled hunk of hero, odds are he will be some guy that you probably would never consider going out with. Let's be honest, how many hot scientists are actually being exposed to uber-gamma rays or toxic insect bites.
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| There was a time when I was a younger crime fighter. I had dreams of grandeur and glory. I still can remember when one of my teachers noticed some of my skills and discussed how I could make a difference in the world. At first I thought he just wanted me to live up to the potential people always talked about, but soon it became apparent that there was more than that. I dawned on me that there were actually superheroes out there, people who under the cover of darkness protected the ignorantly bliss people of the world. And best of all, he thought I had not just the potential that previous teachers and my parents thought, but a potential to be one of those superheroes.
So he introduced me to a few who would train me. One of them was very insistent that all good superheroes needed a costume. He always said, "It must be practical, protective, and not too flashy." When he spoke of protective, he always mentioned not only keeping the "genetic generator" safe, but also protecting the identity of the hero. So they helped design a costume that they felt would serve me well.
Tossing on that costume was exciting at first. It was like having a really cool work uniform, yet for a uber cool job. For several months I would catch myself occasionally looking down at the insignia on my chest. There was something about seeing it there that helped me remember that I wasn't the average joe working the average joe job anymore, but I was Rufus The Red. Just having it on gave you the feeling you downed a gallon of espresso, but without the side effects of rushing to the toilet. I loved it.
But soon I came to discover it wasn't so much the costume, but the crime fighting itself, that gave me the rush. Plus there is the costs of replacing the uniform from time and time due to wear and tear. Not to mention the fact that one often needs to keep a few hanging around in different locations, as you never know where you will be when the cry for help arrives. Take all that into consideration and you might come to the same conclusion I did, that I didn't really need a costume to save the world.
Sure some in this community gave me flack for this decision, but what can you do. I feel more comfortable fighting this battle in my jeans and a t-shirt anyway. And as far as blowing my cover, I am not too worried about that. There are enough ways that I change my appearance, but to tell you more would be detrimental.
From time to time as I look through my closet I still see my remaining costumes hanging there. Perhaps some day I will put them on eBay. Until then, I keep them there to remind me of a few things. I like to be able to remember how it felt when I started. I like to remember those who helped get me started. I like to remember how dorky I really looked in that outfit.
In the end I guess there comes a time when one has to stop hiding behind the costumes and masks and just lay it all out on the table. My time came, and I am better for it.
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