The Fortress of Solitude and poor vocational choices.

I think part of my problem stems from the fact that I made a poor vocational choice in my youth. Other boys my age (around 8 or 9 or so) wanted to be firemen or cops or soldiers or some sort of professional athlete...I wanted to be a superhero.

Maybe that's indicative of my tendency to live in a fantasy world, I don't know. Everyone else I went to school with seemed to be more centered and seemed to know what they wanted and were able to work towards it. In my case, that was kind of difficult, as I had no superpowers (being able to curl my tongue sideways doesn't count, I've been told) and I was never able to scrounge up enough cash to afford to build my own superhero headquarters. I mean, Superman had it easy; all Christopher Reeve had to do was fling that green crystal into the snow at the North Pole and - poof - instant Fortress of Solitude. Try doing that in suburban California, see how far you get. Especially without a green crystal. Or Christopher Reeve, for that matter.

The closest I ever came to that was the time my friends Tony, Cal, Doug, Jeremy and I found this dug-out fort hidden in the hills near our future high school. It was so cool. Someone had dug out 2 or 3 rooms out of the hillside, open to the air and about 4 feet deep, with walkways between. It wasn't until years later (actually, last week) that I realized that this "fort" was probably not a fort at all but instead a hideaway someone had built in order to enjoy the illicit substance(s) of their choice. Yep, my "fort" was a drug den. I always wondered why we never went back to it - Doug would never go back there, but wouldn't say why, and if Doug wasn't going, then Tony wasn't going and if Tony wasn't going...you get the idea.

Anyway, my choice to become a superhero may not have met with much success - OK, any success - but not for lack of imagination on my part. Growing up on comic books like The Legion of Super Heroes, X-Men, The New Teen Titans, and The Avengers spurred me to create my own pantheon of superheroes for me to become in my mind's eye. Surprisingly, I never came up with very many supervillains, as I never wanted to identify with the bad guys. By junior high school, I had discovered role-playing games, especially superhero role-playing games (Champions was my favorite at the time), games where I could actually be the hero! Unfortunately, no one else owned copies of these games, so I was forced to be the referee (or GameMaster, as it is called), playing the part of the bad guys (see above comment regarding supervillains) while my friends and my sisters pretended to save the world.

To this day, a part of me still longs to become something other than what I am, to become a person of note, of power. In my imagination, I have superpowers, but I find that I rarely use those powers for the common good anymore. Usually, I find that instead of fantasizing about battling Galactus or Brother Blood, I'm using my powers of super-strength and flight to get myself and my car out of this traffic jam on the interstate that I'm stuck in. Yeah, I know - if I can fly, why am I driving? Secret Identity Maintenance - that's Hero 101 stuff right there. Or I'll find that I'm imagining blowing out the wheels of the jerk who just forced his way into my lane in front of me and across 2 more lanes of traffic because he's Mr. All-That by using my heat vision to melt his tires. In other words, not terribly altruistic or heroic goals. This is probably a sign that I should try to outgrow these flights of fancy, that I should accept the real world as is, without trying to add my own two cents worth. Maybe. Or maybe they're real good reasons that I shouldn't have superpowers.

In my next life, I'll make sure to pretend to be something that, while inspiring, is more grounded in reality, something more attainable. A wizard sounds good.
Take care,
~Rob