Monday, August 22, 2005

I've been home a while but there is one more adventure from Vancouver to add to my small journal of events. My prayers were finally answered for a villainous fiend to attack the city. It's admittedly, a strange thing to pray for, but as a superhero in training- villains are a must. I'm not sure what would happen to the superhero world without villains. Luckily, the world seems to breed corruption and filth that someone needs to clean up, this clean up is our job.

Waiting for a whole month in Vancouver before any villains showed up had been killing me. Then, on my last day as we were driving to the airport my sister's super-cell rings, the cell phone she receives orders from headquarters to conquer a certain villain. There are enough superheroes around that it is not necessary for each of them to fight one villain at any certain time - this over abundance of superheroes means that they each need a regular job, it also acts as a cover, of course.

The phone emitted a high pitched ring and my sister whipped it out of her purse so fast I thought the phone might catch fire. "Where do you need me, Doug?" she abruptly answers the call, no time for pleasantries when it comes to defeating a villain. "Ok, I'll be there in ten minutes."

She makes a tight u-turn and almost knocks me out of my seat. The car is revved up to super status and begins racing up the side of a building to drive along the roofs. As we'd speeding across the roofs of Vancouver, I yell, "Where're we going?"

"East Hastings" is the shouted reply I receive. Then, I begin to be ordered around by the all-knowing super sibling.

"Get my super suit from the back." I reach behind and retrieve her super suit, it's contained in a small medallion so all the super hero has to do is throw the medallion over their head and voila a super suit appears. My sister had just bought a new, bright, royal blue suit and it came with super glasses that allowed her to channel the suns rays and create lasers. So cool! Now she has super vision and she can burn through stuff, like human flesh and brick, too. Unfortunately, I haven't received my super suit. First, I must graduate and then I'm allowed to have a super suit.

My sister didn't tell me anything before we reached the scene of the villain. On the Vancouver East Side some punk had fallen in chemical waste and received super powers, lucky bum. But he had no control. He was trying to frighten some poor teenagers by shooting poisonous venom out of some mutant gland he'd grown on his hand. They were all dying because he lacked the finesse to realize that his venom was too deadly to be sprayed in such high dosages.

My sister came up and parked the car thirty feet away. She watched for five seconds. Then she said, "Ok, when I tell you I want you to levitate him into the air. . . Wait. . . Wait. . NOW!!!" I put out my arms and willed his body to lift with all my might. He began to drift up. As I levitated him, my sister ran until she was underneath him. She had pulled out her handcuffs and yelled, "Drop him!" I let him down and she caught him, held his struggling form and cuffed him. Being a superhero can be pretty demanding.

After we'd dropped off the punk with super powers at SHH branch 6. We kicked her car into super mode again to make it to the airport on time. I was still full of adrenaline and ran to my gate. As I was leaving I yelled, "Love you lots! Thanks a bunch, especially for the villain!" That was all there was time for and she blew me a kiss. I made my flight and was back home by three, back to my friends and family.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Administrative assistant almost no more. Leaving Vancouver the loving care of an over protective sister for Regina, known to me as home, for the loving care of over protective parents. You may ask what a super hero is doing in Regina? The answer is that one of the best training schools for super heroes resides in this small and sleepy city. Plus, my parents believe small and quiet places are the best for retirement from superherodom and you don't get much smaller or quieter than Saskatchewan.

I'll be going back to Super School - I know, I know, not the most original name but super heroes are not necessarily creative. Actually, I think most super heroes are rather materialistic and not very artistic at all. It doesn't help that the most useful things for a superhero are technological and therefore a lot of focus is put on the technical and scientific aspects of our lives. We live in the twentieth century, just like the rest of the world, except our technology may be slightly better. Since superheroes do generally live in larger, urban centres where villains are more likely to attack, their children are flown in by jet daily. I, personally, have always felt lucky that my school is no more than a twenty minute drive away. A school for superheroes must be in a country away from anyone who might get hurt. On the outside is looks like an ordinary ramshackle barn surrounded by fields of wheat in summer and snow in the winter, common in the countryside of Saskatchewan. But underground there's rooms and rooms devoted to teaching.

I can't wait to return and begin my second year at Super School. I still laugh at the name every time I say it. Lately, I've taken to not saying the name of my school, but simply calling it school. The worst part is that Super Schools exist all over North America and in characteristic superhero creativity are simply numbered. I attend Super School 5. They sound more like prisons than schools.

School will come soon enough, for now it's enough to help my sister. I called myself an administrative assistant - minion might be a better word. I do whatever she doesn't want to do around the office. And there haven't even been any villains trying to take over Vancouver since I've been here. On the bright side, there hasn't been any rain, and Vancouver's famous for the amount of rain it gets. I'll just continue to wait and hope that the evil villains haven't all gone on vacation for the summer because I return home in four days and it would be a shame to not experience at least one attack by an evil villain in the big city. Maybe crossing my fingers will help . . .

Monday, August 08, 2005

Going away for the summer for training in super hero tactics with my sister has been okay. I thought fighting villains and learning new tactics would be more fun. But I'm stuck being an 'administrative assistant' or a glorified secretary at my sister's business. I know it's important to keep a good cover so that the world does not suspect that underneath that ordinary exterior lurks a superhero. Yet, does it have to be so ordinary? I was thinking a star journalist maybe. But the superhero authorities insist upon low profile jobs, nothing too glamorous and definitely nothing that puts you in the public eye. Supposedly, saving the world is supposed to fill me with such joy that I don't require monetary support. To be fair, SHH (Super Hero Headquarters) helps out superheros that aren't doing so well. Just like the world we protect we've created SHEI - a pain in the ass because not only is my menial paying job subject to the regular government's deductions but SHH needs to take a cut too.

A little background for the non-superheros in the crowd. In 1950, it was decided that superheroes needed protection. They needed a place they could turn to in times of need, when they ran out of money or when they blew their cover and needed someone to help them set up somewhere new. Each superhero needed to simply pay a fee of $1000 a year, not a lot since superheroes generally maintained relatively good jobs. Some were doctors, lawyers or some were just independently wealthy because of some reward for a good deed given by the government or other thankful individual. This small organization, to help a superhero in need, morphed into a huge, global organization resembling an ordinary person government. Every so often they rear their ugly head and demand money. They also will help you, if you need. Of course, I've never needed their help.

So, I continue doing administrative work and hope that someone will need a superhero. Sadly, losing data on my laptop is just as easy when a superhero and has just as many consequences. Maybe the consequences can be a little more drastic because my sister threw me across the room when I lost a whole spreadsheet. Trials and tribulations of a superhero administrative assistant with her sister for a boss.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

What changes a life from being ordinary to being extraordinary?? What makes a superhero? How does someone become Mr. Incredible?

For me, born without the innate talent of a superhero, writing my ordinary life in an extraordinary manner must fulfill my need of reaching the realm of superdom.

Today, my sister and I were late for the afternoon performance we had scheduled. Totally her fault, of course. I'd tried to tell her that running full speed to save the construction man from falling from 800 ft. scaffolding would put us behind schedule. Yes, I knew he was cute, but that was no reason to interfere with death. (She has super vision and can see for miles - super pain in the ass because sneaking anything past her is almost impossible.)

Long story short, we left our parked car and ran at super speed the ten blocks to try and catch him before he landed, only to find by the time we got there that his buddy had grabbed his hand and pulled him up. (Pathetically, she can't use her farvision and run at the same time.) Then the walk back, at normal speed, after that exhausting exhibition, made us extremely late for the performance.

Traffic did not help us make up time. After 15 minutes of sitting in traffic, my sister looks at me and says, "We're not going to make it." Then, I had an idea! But it required leaving the car, or carrying it. I mean, running superspeed did sound like a good idea in my head.

Then as if on cue she said, "No, we are not leaving the car here to run there at superspeed." So, after sitting in traffic for another half an hour, parking the car and running - superspeed - we found, to our dismay, that our seats had been given away because we were too late. Besides, briefly flirting with the idea of killing my sister I got over my grief relatively quickly. It also helped that she bought coffee after this debacle.