30 entries about me #06- Favorite super hero and why

23 Apr

Why the hell did I think this would be a good idea? I’m struggling to keep up with this, and all semblance of 30 days is long gone. Actually, that last sentence is as far as I got back in February 2011. Its not April 2013, and in a bid to finish what I started, and in keeping with the ‘better late than never’ philosophy which affects a great deal of my work I’m going to make an effort to finish the 30 days of me.

I very much doubt I’ll complete it in the next 25 days. So those 30 days will be spread out a bit. Goodness knows my life has changed substantially since day 5. Radically. Twice. And I moved house 3 times. This could be interesting.

Day 6 – Favourite Superhero and Why?

How do we define a superhero? Do they have to have supernatural-like powers? Does Batman count considering he’s just a bloke with a lot of cash and gadgets?

I’m not keen on Superman. All he does is take off his glasses and slick his hair down with some Brylcreem and nobody knows who he is. I think that’s only worked for me once. I suppose the ultimate test is to try it out on an ex girlfriend who had only ever seen me with specs and beard. Robert Simpson, no never heard of him…

Lucky Spiderman

Lucky Spiderman

Spiderman holds a special place in my memory. When I was a kid one of those christmas presents I will forever remember was the bendy Spiderman doll I had asked for from Santa. He was a 12″ foam figure, dressed in removeable lycra blue and white Spiderman suit. There were metal rods in the body which allowed him to bent into the desired pose (I’m sure you all know the sort of thing), he had suckers on his feet and hands which meant you could stick him to the window (I frequently had him stuck to the inside of the car window, and that in my bedroom), and his head was made of hard plastic. I’ve seen him knocking around recently – only without the head. Wonder where that has ended up? I think he’s in storage now.

I’m led to believe that Spiderman was also one of my earlier words. Which I pronounced with some difficulty. A bit of a snort at the start as I uttered “Smidermnnn”.

Spiderman was also a major player in another story from childhood, but I’ll save that for another blog.

The Sam Raimi films were a reawakening of a love that never really went away – I’d enjoyed the old cartoons, Kenny Everett’s pastiche, and even the old live action film versions. It didn’t hurt that I fancied the hell out of Kirsten Dunst. That first kiss – you know, when he’s upside down and she partly pulls off the mask – still gets my blood going. Sigh.

But I was that geeky kid at school – not wealthy, a little picked on, misunderstood, floundering – and a keen photographer. Sure, the only white stuff that you might find me shooting out from my wrist is… well… not a spider web. So yes, Spiderman speaks to me – maybe its a nostalgic look back to childhood, but I can’t shake him.

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