20110517

I Believe A Man Can Fly ...















I try very hard not to go on and on about sci-fi / fantasy / comic book stuff in here too much.  Though these types of stories have long served as some of the most potent metaphors in my life (this goes back to seeing Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back when I was five years old) I wouldn't want to bore everyone to tears with my geek acumen.  So despite the fact that I think about genre stuff pretty much every day, I mostly keep it to myself.

I think the last time I shamelessly went all out was when the Tenth Doctor regenerated on New Year's Day 2010.  Maybe it's something about endings that inspires me to break my silence?  I don't know.  Anyway, as you may have guessed from the picture above, Smallville ended a few days ago, after ten seasons, and E and I watched the two hour finale earlier this evening.  It was everything I could have wanted, from an ending that was also a beginning.

Despite my own darkness, or maybe because of it, Superman has always been my hero.  I got my first Superman comics from my grandfather, who died when I was seven years old.  He taught me all about Krypton and Ma and Pa Kent and the whole thing.  (He planted lots of seeds, that man.  Bless him.)  Growing up, I always wished I had parents like the Kents.  They were so kind.  Maybe I could've been from another world then too, y'know ... ?

I worshipped the Christopher Reeve movies growing up (yes, even the one with Richard Pryor) and though I missed large chunks of Smallville over the years, I've been watching this final season religiously.  Tom Welling grew so wonderfully into the role of Clark, and his relationship with Lois, played by Erica Durance, really struck a nerve, even before March.  It's been an awesome nine months getting reacquainted with old friends.

I'm not ashamed to say I cried a few times during the show.  The suit.  The flying.  The visions of Pa Kent (played by the still cool John Schneider).  For the second time this week, I was so glad to be a comic fan, and was grateful that the great characters always seem to find a way to be there for us somehow, no matter how difficult life may be.  Sure, two kids from Cleveland created him in the 30's, but something bigger than that stepped through.

Other than all of this, today was a ugh sort of day.  Mondays are always my home alone days, which doesn't sit well, of course.  Bug and I did manage to do a flier for the Institute in the evening, which turned out nice, then the three of us all scrambled down into the basement to do some cleaning, in order to avoid any trouble with the landlords.  It was tough work, but the result surprised even us.  Nothing like a fear induced deadline, I suppose.

Alright.  Enough for now.  Bed.

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