Anyone who’s followed the stories I’ve posted at CBM can no doubt tell that I am and have been a Superman fan for nearly my entire life, having grown up on reruns of the George Reeves television series, relished the Filmation cartoons of the ‘60s, skipped Super Friends (sorry, my love for the Man of Steel can only go SO far), was transformed by Christopher Reeves’ debut in Superman: The Movie, and it’s gone on from there with The Adventures of Superboy, Lois & Clark, Superman: The Animated Series, Smallville and, now, anticipation for Zack Snyder and Henry Cavill’s take.
I should point out that the basic morality that was instilled in me as a kid came from my mom, just so that that point is made. But that being said, there is something about the core of Superman that has always touched me and inspired me to do what’s right. Of course, unlike Superman who has had innumerable writers to help guide him in this quest over the years, I’ve misstepped along the way but can go to sleep at night knowing that I’ve done my best in that regard.
Several years ago, writer Mark Waid and I had an extended conversation about the Man of Steel, during which he revealed the reasons for his own passion for Superman, and I was pleased that they mirrored my own: “My fascination with him runs back to when I was a kid,” Mark told me. “What impressed me about him as a boy was that he was unlike any other superhero out there. To me his greatest super power was that he could do anything in the world, and with that power he chose to do the right thing. That, to me, was his greatest superpower.”
Can’t argue with that, and it’s a lesson that I attempted to convey to my oldest son a couple of winters ago when we’d been hit with a pretty major snow storm. I had to drive him somewhere to pick something up, and as we were driving we passed a house in front of which an elderly man was shoveling the sidewalk. The thing about this guy is that he was manipulating a walker with one hand, and utilizing the shovel with the other so that it played out as step, shovel; step, shovel; step, shovel. Doing so he was making very slow but steady progress.
As we passed him, I mentioned to my son that if he was still out there, we’d help him on our way back. My son didn’t seem thrilled, but he knew that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. So we took care of what we needed to, and headed home. Not surprisingly given the combination of walker and shovel, he was still out there. We stopped the car, got out and immediately offered our help. The elderly man tried to dismiss the offer, but I was pretty insistent and he ended up happily relinquishing the shovel.
As my son and I went about finishing up the job for him, he leaned against his walker for support, his breath visible in the chilly air as he spoke.
“Thanks for the help,” he said with genuine appreciation. “My neighbor was too sick to do this himself, so I wanted to help him out.”
The opening notes of John Williams’ Superman theme played in my head as I looked to my son and said, “THAT’S why we offer to help.”