A Serious Talk With Superman
LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, MY SPECIAL GUEST . . .
PEOPLE IN THE LIFE OF SUPERMAN
I love Superman. The comic book. And the person. I dare say that there aren't many in America, or the world at large, who DO NOT love The Man of Steel. I could be wrong on that one, but that's another story for another hub.
I just wanted you, the discerning reader, to look inside yourself now. To your mind. Inner-thoughts. Imagination. And make a rational judgement call on whether this story "could be" or "not be" a reality. What you choose is your choice. Not mine.
I just hope that you will take your time and read this in-depth. Probing. And somewhat amazing story about the world's most-amazing person: Superman.
Thank you for caring.
this story contains plenty of entertaining, interesting materials. Parental discretion is not advised. Please read responsibly.
You'd think that snagging a once-in-a-lifetime chance to sit down and talk with the world's most-famous personality, Superman, would be a dream come true. Honestly, yes and no. Yes, for being able to see, in-person, the Man of Steel, who has saved countless cities, people and animals over this illustrious career, and no, because it's similar to the old saying that if a dog chasing a Rolls Royce day after day were to catch it, he couldn't drive it--I was without words to meet such a celebrity when my chance finally came.
It took months of phone calls. Emails. Garnering legal permission from federal, state and local authorities to just meet Superman in a public place. I was always under the impression that Superman could pretty much do as he pleased, but I found out that he has to follow the same protocol that the President of the United States has to follow with travelling with the Secret Service. I can understand that. But this is Superman. Faster than a speeding bullet. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. What menace, short of green kryptonite, could possibly harm this living legend?
We agreed to meet in a local Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant, one of the many restaurants on the south side of Birmingham, Alabama, this past Dec. 22, 2011. I was to arrive in a plain-colored car escorted by Birmingham F.B.I. agents and Superman had the option of appearing as Clark Kent, with three-piece suit, hat, and horn-rim glasses, or in his Superman attire. I was surprised that he chose his Superman costume over the Clark Kent disguise.
"Might as well be Clark for now," Superman laughed as he shook my hand. "everyone knows that Clark Kent was just a secret identity. Nothing beats honesty," he added.
My mouth must have hit the floor when I saw, up-close, how short Superman really was in stature. Five foot, eleven inches tall. Almost as tall as me. I never let on as that might offend such a man, so I kinda slouched over in my booth to make him feel equally tall. I couldn't help be annoyed at the gawks and gazes being cast at us from the KFC employees and customers who just couldn't believe that it was me, Kenneth Avery, a true rural guy. An unknown. A nobody, having lunch with Superman. Some even tried to find a secret camera thinking they were on a reality joke show. Things settled down when the two F.B.I. agents advised them that "there was nothing here for them to see," so the employees went back to work. And the customers continued their eating.
"I must say, Superman, may I call you Superman," I asked. "This is a beyond a treat. Thank you for meeting me here on the south side of Birmingham," I said taking a bite of Extra Crispy chicken.
"Thanks, Ken. And yes, Superman will be fine. Being back in Birmingham brings back the memories," he explained. "I was here when there were only two buildings. What great progress mankind has made in my lifetime," he said looking melancholy. I even noticed a tear come to his left eye that he swiftly brushed away.
"I am so excited, Superman, because there are just a few questions I would like to ask, if that's okay with you."
"Sure, Ken. Fine by me. Oh, you did give my legal counsel a copy of the questions? You see, I can't be that "free," to talk about just anything--because technically, I work for the Federal Government, the Justice Department," Superman said with a sparkle in his eyes while sipping his unsweet tea. I noticed that although his plate was loaded-down with potato salad, chicken livers, and Original Recipe chicken, he didn't bother to touch his meal. Stupid me. I kept forgetting Superman doesn't eat food like you or I.
Actually at this point, Superman was obviously-pensive. Edgy. About some problem that was harbored in his mind. I didn't have the nerve to ask what it was, so I continued to eat my lunch and watched him look around the restaurant as well as the parking lot, I guess to spot any lawbreakers who might be brave enough to start something. Superman, I can say, is always on the job.
"How's Lois these days?" I asked. Superman, for some reason, was captivated by the poster on the wall about "employment opportunities," at Kentucky Fried Chicken.
"Superman? I said . . ." then he interrupted with a smile, "Ken, I heard you th first time. My super-hearing is still sharp. Oh, Lois, that minx, she is still feisty and fiery as ever. Matter of fact, she is doing a fashion shoot this very day in Cancun and I have to swoop down there in an hour or so to make sure she is okay," Superman said with a smile.
"I noticed that the 'employment opportunities' poster had your attention. Were you thinking about 'working' at Kentucky Fried Chicken? Man, you could overload the place with your heat vision and super speed," I foolishly remarked that caused Superman to wince in embarrassment.
"Ken, you know me better than that. I cannot use my powers for anything but to keep the universe running smooth and free of all evil-doers," he stated in a voice that almost shook the iced tea from my hand.
"Shhh, not so loud, Superman. We don't want crowds to know you are here," I advised feeling smaller than a wart on a snail at having to correct the Man of Steel.
"Sorry, Ken. I guess I'm just, well, missing the Justice League of America days, and since we disbanded years ago, the only two places I hang out is at one of our homes, or at the Arctic Circle at my Fortress of Solitude. Ken, it gets lonely, I tell you being me," Superman said 'acting' like he was eating a chicken liver.
I suppose, at that moment, I saw the "real" Superman for whom and what he was. Not human. That was for sure, but he displayed an authentic human emotion of loneliness. Maybe there was more to him that I had been led to believe in the thousands of DC Comics I had read over the years.
Superman squirmed in his seat, I guess for impatience at my pace for asking him 'the' questions that I had written him about months ago when this interview project first started. I tried to be upbeat and laid-back to give Superman the needed-ease and relaxation he needed to fulfill my need for information.
Then, in a silent moment of time, something happened that made us both fall over with laughter. An attractive lady, about 25, came walking by our booth smiling at Superman and even winking at him as she went to the front of the restaurant. He was like a kid on Christmas morning finding his new Sears bicycle under the tree.
"Wow, Ken, did you see that? She was fine, I tell you, fine," Superman gushed nudging me in the ribs and almost breaking two in the process. I didn't let on this his exuberance hurt me. That, on my part, would be severely rude.
Then, thinking that eyeing this beauty was a passing thing, I found it hard to get Superman's attention. His head was turned in her direction. I felt very uncomfortable at having a hero of this magnitude act so foolish over one girl since already had THE HOTTEST girl in the world for a wife, Lois Lane. I guess that this imperfection made Superman even more super as our conversation continued with a series of questions that I asked him that others in the world would want to ask Superman if they were in my place.
"Superman, was it true that Lois, or Ms. Superman, was very jealous of Wonder Woman?"
"Wheww, thats a toughie, Ken, but yes, when we were first married, a call came into our house from the United Nations and long story short, it was Wonder Woman who needed me to assist her in this operation to rid some jungle in South America of these so-called "terrorists," and you know how newlywed wives are, she--just--had--to--have--me--home and after a few heated words, I left to help Wonder Woman. When I returned later that night, Lois had settled down and we had a long talk and now she's fine."
"No more Wonder Woman calling, or anything?"
"Well, kinda yes. Kinda no. Her ex-husband, Steve, does the calling for her as to not upset Lois. I can live with that, but Ken, Wonder Woman and I are only like "pals," not sleep-over, slumber party friends. Come on."
"Well, Superman, does Lois have any old flames who have caused "YOU" some jealousy?"
"Ken! Look! It's me, Superman. Are you kidding me? I mean, (laughs here) are you kidding me? I hate to boast, but what man can compete with me?" (laughs and winks here).
"What do you do when you are at home with Lois---chores, what?"
"Well, a good husband, even me, has to help his wife with things like, uhhh, dishes, laundry and cleaning. I don't mind. I love the exercise I get from seeing how fast I can have all of the house work done before Lois gets home from work."
"Why does she have to work at all, Superman?"
"Well, Lois feels that she is still an independent woman with her own ways of doing things and I respect that about her. She loves to shoot photos with "Bruce," her photo lab assistant at these various fashion shows by Sports Illustrated, Vogue and others. She's pretty good too. Oh, Ken, let me tell you, while I got it on my mind, what happened a week ago. Lois and I had finished our dinner, that I had cooked with my heat vision, and were sitting in the living room relaxing when her assistant, "Bruce," came over and wanted her to model the latest bikini for him that the models at Vogue were to wear the next day. She looked hot, I tell you. "Bruce," wouldn't allow her to take the red bikini off for hours. Frankly, I got a bit bored. Especially when he and Lois went back to the master bedroom for more photos of her in that bikini."
(AN EERIE, AWKWARD PAUSE SETTLED IN AT THIS POINT AS SUPERMAN FINISHED HIS STORY.)
"Uh, well, that can happen, Superman. Say, tell me about Lex Luthor, your old arch enemy. What's he into now?"
"Hmmm, that red bikini . . .why did "Bruce," and, oh, Lex, (looks down) he is uh, selling pets in a little shop I found for him in an out of the way place in Kentucky. He has fully-reformed and as a gesture of good faith, donated all of his ill-gotten gains to notable charities. Served his prison time with no trouble. Underwent rehab and now is a new man." Oh, did I tell you about "Cappie," coming over two weeks ago?"
"You mean, Captain America?" No, you didn't."
"Well, you know Cappie, always good for a laugh. We used to hang-out before Lois and I married, well, he came by one evening and dared me to play some parlor game he had found called, "Find The Kryptonite," and well, I agreed. I didn't really understand the game because all it consisted of was me, holding this dangerous rock that made me sick and weak, while he and Lois slow-danced the night away to the tunes of Fifty Cent. That Cappie, if I didn't know him better, I'd swear, ha, ha, that he has eyes for Lois."
(ANOTHER EERIE, AWKWARD PAUSE SETTLED IN AS SUPERMAN FINISHED HIS STORY ABOUT CAPT. AMERICA).
"Well, now, that's just a tribute to the great taste you have in women, Superman!"
"Hey, Ken, you wait just a minute! I am no CANNIBAL! I live right. Fight fair. Pay taxes and love mankind. You owe me an apology." Where's that cute waitress with our refills? Ken, are you about finished with this?"
"Wy' yes, Superman. One more question: Would it be possible with the next interview to have your wife, Lois Lane join us?"
"I'd love to say 'yes,' Ken, but really . . .no, due to the fact that after hours, and this is strictly off-record, Lois comes home after a hard day of photo shootings and takes up her other hobby to occupy her time."
"Other hobby, to occupy her time? What do you mean, Superman?"
"Ken, you must not get out much. When I am home, she has this other business, if you can call it that, where male body builders can join Lois' club, maybe she said it was a gym, and work-out as long as they like. She says it keeps her busy and her mind on helping her fellow MAN."
"Lois Lane? An owner of a male gym? I didn't know she knew anything about body building."
"Ohhh, Ken, get real. She doesn't. She does those important little things that help the men body builders to be their best for competitions. She rubs them down with oil and gives them all private body massages when all of the exercising is finished."
(A FINAL EERIE, AWKWARD PAUSE SETTLED IN WHILE SUPERMAN SHOOK MY HAND AND "FLEW OFF" TO CHECK ON LOIS.
I decided to "trash" the remaining pages of this story. The pages of dialogue where Superman told how much happiness owning an all-male gym gave Lois.
SUPERMAN AND LOIS LANE . . .
More by this Author
Not many fans of early television ever admit to not liking the "Andy Griffith Show." But me? I have endured a few casting miscues for as long as I can.
Destination America channel has scored with Mountain Monsters, Paranormal Activity and other spine-chilling shows. Then there's Alaska Monsters.
Time was, the office was "the" place for a young man or woman to work. But things changed.