Superhero, or real smooth dude.

dra­cun­cu­lus sur­prised the hell out of me a few weeks back by refer­ring to me, in front of oth­ers, as a super­hero. Not as a fan of super­heroes or as a read­er or even cre­ator of super­hero sto­ries, but flat out called me a super­hero. I was flat­tered beyond my abil­i­ty to express, but it’s stuck with me, and I have kept it in mind as I’ve lived my life and tried to strength­en myself on the phys­i­cal and moral planes. It has nev­er been my habit to take a com­pli­ment and hold it in my heart to nour­ish and strength­en me, but this one made a crack in the ice of my self-crit­i­cal nature.

Today on the under­ground MUNI train I saw my reflec­tion in the train win­dow and for the first time saw an adult in that reflec­tion. Then the train lurched and the very attrac­tive young lady stand­ing near me grabbed a post then looked up sheep­ish­ly. “I did­n’t want to fall and knock into you,” she said.

“Don’t wor­ry,” I said. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”