Tuesday, October 12, 2004

A beautiful eulogy for a Superman, courtesy of YAP.

"
In Memoriam Superman

So many people have been asking me “why?”

I’ve actually received gawping open-mouthed stares. “You? But…but…you! YOU, dude!”

I didn’t want to, okay? What’s the point? Other writers have waxed eloquent…far more eloquently than I, I might add…on the subject and they’ve said all that can be said. We’ve seen the retrospectives, we’ve heard the eulogies and we’ve sung his praises. What more can be said, ultimately? What will my voice joining the chorus do?

What’s the point?

Superman is dead.

The posters all said “You WILL believe a man can fly!” I was seven…maybe eight years old. I believed, man. I believed. Superman was real and he flew and lifted helicopters and there was a powerful force for what was good and right in the world. He was right there! I believed, man, with all my heart and all my soul.

I grew up, of course. We all do. Well…let me amend that. I grew older. I grew older and life kicked me in the teeth a few times, just like everyone else and I acquired some hardness, some cynicism, some “cool” exterior pretensions. Some affectations of disaffection.

But deep down inside, past the biker leather, the Camel Filters, the coffee by the gallon, the beer and the sneer…I believed a man could fly. I believed there was a powerful force for what was good and right in the world.

I believed in Superman.

It actually hurt when Christopher Reeve broke his neck. Intellectually, of course, I knew that the man was not the Superman. That he was mortal…vulnerable. Just like us.

But it stuck in my heart like a little shard of hurt. The disappointment on a cellular level that you can only truly feel as a child. It hurt when Chris Rock reminded us “Superman can’t walk!”

And that’s when the man became the Superman.

Everybody talks about Christopher Reeve’s determination, his indomitable will. His unbending conviction that he would walk again. Not only would he walk again, but everybody afflicted with this sort of grievous injury would, by God, walk again. The word “inspiration” is being tossed about willy nilly these days, but that man inspired me in ways that the “S” shield never could. It was real, man. He was right there, telling me he would walk, telling me it could be fixed. He was a powerful force for what was good and right in the world.

I believed, man.

Well, now the man is dead. His dream, I should hope, shall live beyond his time here with us. He leaves behind his family, his friends and little children like me who believe.

You will believe a man can fly.

I believe a man can walk.

http://www.apacure.com/"