When I Was In My 20's I Was The Second Highest Ranked Ms Pacman Player In The World
(Turbo Edition)
A birthday card my 15 year old nephew G The Artist made for his bestie last year
It doesn’t feel right to talk about Michael Jackson’s silver sparkly glove anymore. But that doesn’t change how much I used to think about it. And how jealous I was of Roland on my school bus who was a year ahead of me and had one. On days when he’d step on, and I’d see that he was wearing it, I’d hope so hard that he’d come sit in the back, near me. So I could look at it the whole time; pretending that it was on my hand. Imagining what it would feel like.
Mine was the first stop in the morning. Four of us would wait together. Sliding around the leaves on the ground with our tennis shoes. Blowing air out of our mouths like it was smoke from a cigarette.
Mrs. Hearns’ skin was the same color as my friend Gerry’s, and her hair was black with streaks of shiny grey. We would both smile real big at each other when I stepped onto the bus, and her eyes sort of twinkled a little. The last day of school in December, my mom always put two loaves of bread that she made - one blueberry, one zucchini, and a tin of her little Christmas cookies into a bag for me to take to her. We didn’t have much money, but my mom always put a card in the bag too with a $5 or $10 bill in it.
I always went straight to the very last row. So I could turn around and watch the tall man dressed like Superman, who would run up and down the sidewalk. With his arms out in front of him, and his cape flowing behind him; looking at any minute like he was going to take off. I’d keep my eyes focused on him, till he got smaller and smaller behind me. Only when he was totally out of sight, would I face forward in my seat.
A block up from the bus stop was a huge brick building that lots of people lived in. It was a group home for grown ups that needed assistance living on their own. In the summers my mom and sister and I would walk to the library or the park, and if there were people on the porch we’d always wave to them. There was a lady with red hair who would always wave back at us. Sometimes the man who would wear the Superman suit would be there in normal clothes, but I would recognize him. He would sometimes wave back too.
My first job out of college (minus a disastrous two week stint as a used car salesman) was working at a program that served individuals with intellectual disabilities. I had two people that I worked with each day, and at lunch every person in the program and all the staff would meet at the park to eat together. There was a really friendly African American man in the program that I’d say hi to most afternoons. He’d always shake my hand and smile back at me.
One day the person that worked with him was out sick, and my boss asked me if I could take him with my two other guys that afternoon. She told me a little about him, and his history. She told a funny story about how many years ago, in the house he used to live in, he would sneak out in the middle of the night, and go down to the park (that I used to play at as a kid). She said he’d pick up the concrete benches there and carry them above his head back to his house. He’d go back inside and go to sleep, and when staff would wake up they’d find all the benches on the porch. The benches were too heavy for the staff to move, so they’d have to get him to carry them back to the park, one by one. She said it was good he was so friendly, because he was so strong. She said she was sure he got plenty of stares from people when he was carrying the benches down the street - especially when he was wearing his Superman suit.
I felt something catch in my throat. I felt dizzy. I took a few minutes to compose myself and I walked over to him, standing alone by the picnic table. I said hi to him, as I did almost every day, and he said hi back to me and held out his massive hand for me to shake. “When I was a kid I used to see you dressed up like Superman,” I told him. And I told him how much I always liked to see him. “Superman,” he said, and he gently shook my hand and smiled as I wiped a tear from my eye.
A couple years ago, my sister and I ran into Mrs. Hearns at Marshalls. Her hair was whiter, with some purple in it, and her glasses were bigger, but she looked very much the same. I tapped her on the shoulder, and explained who my sister and I were, and told her I didn’t know if she remembered us or not. She started beaming. She said of course she remembered us, and mentioned the Christmas bags my mom used to give her, and asked how my parents were. We talked for a little while, and she patted me on my arm when we said goodbye, and for one brief moment when I looked into her eyes, we were both all the way back there.
It’s not often that the superheroes from your childhood turn out to be real. Or that you actually get to meet them; and find out they’re exactly like you always hoped they’d be. Through the yellow leaves, in his blue suit, with a red cape, Superman used to run up the sidewalk by my bus stop when I was kid. I used to watch him. I used to wait for him to fly.
The two things I wanted most when I was a kid were a Millennium Falcon and a silver Michael Jackson glove. The Millennium Falcon was too expensive, and I knew I’d never be able to get that. But the Michael Jackson glove - it seemed like maybe my mom could help me make one. I never asked her though. It was one of those things too precious to ever say out loud. So I kept it, always, just for me.
HOURS SPENT IN THE KITCHEN IN MY SOCK FEET PRACTICING DOING THE MOONWALK BY FUTUREMAN7
*”Shine Weasels” based on the characters Moon Shine, and Sun Shine (the cartoon animal versions of C. Ledford & C. Hutchinson) from the graphic novel “Silent Forest” by Adam, Christian, and Nick Beranek, and Chris Burke.