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Superman on Earth

7. Superman's Senior Moment

Over the years, I'd dreamed of being Superman. After finding out I couldn't fly, couldn't lift Dad's pickup, and was invulnerable only to good sense, I had to scale back my dreams a bit. Maybe I couldn't be Superman, but I could wear the suit. Then I could at least appear to be Superman. Unfortunately, as a child, I never got my hands on a true costume. My mother was of a very practical bent and, come Halloween, she saw no need for store bought dress-up.

Finally, at age twelve, I managed to persuade Mom to buy me the costume I wanted so badly. Unfortunately, my joy at slipping into it was short-lived. It was too small. Mom addressed the problem by cutting the upper portion of the costume free so that I could pull it on as a shirt. She didn't have time to do more. I could wear the cape, so, from the waist up, I looked fine. From the waist down, however, you might say things went south. Rather than some approximation of blue tights, I had to wear... pajama bottoms. I had no boots of any kind, so I had to make do with tennis shoes. Looking like that wicked imp Mxyzptlk had been at him, the Composite Superman went to the Halloween party. He did not inspire awe.

Fortunately, by the time I was in college, I was able to do, well, somewhat better. This time, I wore a dark blue sweat shirt and matching sweat pants. I pulled a pair of red shorts on over the pants. The shorts bore the logo of my school, Kentucky Christian College. I had a nice, wide belt and Dingo boots (Sounds like an Imaginary Tale - "The Australian Superman"). Not exactly standard issue, but at least I had a nice red cape made out of material I bought at a shop in Grayson, KY. I cut out a paper pentagram, drew the best S I could on it, and somehow or other managed to staple it to the shirt. Yeah, I know, it left a lot to be desired - but it was better than what I wore as a kid!

The occasion for the costume? It was for Senior Chapel shortly before my graduation from KCC. Traditionally, the graduating seniors took over a chapel session, using it to lampoon their beloved professors. Somehow or other, I'd gotten in charge of this event. For a long time, I'd been looking for an opportunity to dress up like Superman. I'm not exactly sure now why I picked this particular occasion to do so. Maybe it was because the professor I was to "honor" was, among other things, our Physical Education instructor. Who better to tout the benefits of a P.E. program than the Man of Steel?

Of course, I needed to devise a suitable entrance. I would've flown in if I could've, but there was no means whatsoever available for that. So I went to plan B: Brick Wall. I toyed with the notion of gathering a load of bricks, erecting a wall onstage, and crashing through. Unfortunately, there wasn't time for that, to say nothing of the fact that I usually operate a few bricks short of a load. So I went to plan C: Cardboard. I managed to wangle a refrigerator-sized cardboard box from someplace. With the help of my friend, Jimmy Bliffen, I took the box apart so that it formed a single sheet roughly six by six feet. I told him I wanted to paint "bricks" onto the cardboard, then punch my way through it. Jimmy patiently explained to me that it wouldn't be nearly as easy as I thought to punch through cardboard. He suggested that we cut a big hole in the sheet, cover it with paper bags, then paint the whole thing.

The night before Chapel, we worked for hours on the project. We were in the weight room on the bottom floor of the dorm. There were no windows, no ventilation. As we sprayed red paint in there, we came close to asphyxiating ourselves. When finished, we'd created a poor man's version of the wall George Reeves used to burst through. Still, it looked pretty good. Our "bricks" looked more like blocks, and, since we'd had no time to erect a frame, a couple people were going to have to hold the thing up, but, by golly, it looked like it was going to work.

The format of our Senior Chapel was simple: While other members of the graduating class sat onstage looking on, designated seniors called faculty members up to be recognized in one way or another. The teachers were then escorted by members of an unofficial campus group known as the Mafia - black-suited guys in sunglasses, toy guns bulging from their coats.

As I recall, each professor received a whacky gift, a memento of the occasion. One pair of students gave their man a silly-looking bird marionette. Another senior presented a prof with a box of black widows (not real spiders, thankfully). One classmate came jogging, in imitation of a formerly fat teacher, fake paunch bobbing up and down, huffing and puffing around the gym where we were meeting. Crying, "You really know how to... take it off!" he whipped the pillow out from under his shirt and gave it to the prof.

All this was punctuated with further bits of comedy as the proceedings went on and on. I was backstage, dressed in my Superman outfit, curly hair pasted down, one unnatural curl swirled onto my forehead. Our president, Dr. Lusby, appeared back there, anxiously whispering, "How much longer?"

"Oh, not long!" I replied. Dr. Lusby was not given to hilarity and I didn't wish to antagonize him. Nevertheless, I had no idea how much longer it would take.

Finally, my cue came. Two students bore our makeshift wall out to the middle of the stage where a number of students were sitting on the floor. I don't remember how I got behind it without being seen, but I did. With the element of surprise intact, I waited behind it in a half crouch, tense...

Then somebody cried, "It's a bird! Another hollered, "It's a plane!" A third yelled, "It's...!" And Superman burst through the wall! Being an inexperienced stunt man, however, I not only crashed the party, I came down on a female student's ankle!

Fortunately, the girl was more surprised than hurt. I don't think the student body noticed what had happened. When they saw Superman burst through painted paper sacks in his own inimitable style, the crowd erupted in applause. The applause continued as I strode to the podium. When it died down, I humbly said, "Yes. It was worth the wait, wasn't it?"

Meanwhile, the Mafia was bringing our next victim up onstage. "Bring him on up, boys," Superman said to the crooks, adding, "We'll call a truce today." As the men in black brought the prof up the steps, I looked back at the poor girl whose foot I'd stepped on. I silently mouthed, "Are you okay?" She nodded, smiling. "Sorry," I mouthed. (Never let it be said Superman doesn't care about the few unfortunates he lands on!)

Then I turned my full attention to the man onstage with me, Professor Bob Baird. Bob, who'd begun at KCC the same year I had, was leaving at the end of the semester. In his four years at our school, he'd taught P.E., Psychology, and also coached basketball. He was well-liked and well-respected. Now I was about to skewer him before the student body - but gently. I've never been much of a skewer-er, especially not in Superman garb.

"You've all heard," I said, "how I've gained my super-powers from Earth's yellow sun and lighter gravity. Don't you believe it!" Laughter. "Everything I am, everything I can do...I owe to Bob Baird's expertise in physical fitness!" More laughter and applause. "And this - " I continued, reaching between my cape and the back of my belt. "...Pep Wheat Flakes!" I whipped out a single serving box of the cereal I'd gotten from the cafeteria. I handed them to Bob and said, "Eat them in good health!" I'd struggled to think of a fitting token for him. I finally decided that, since nothing given to these professors would have any more than sentimental value, I might as well go silly. Coach Baird, who had a great sense of humor, lit up with joy.

When the laughter died down, I dropped the Superman pose and got a little more serious. I spoke of Baird's devotion to the student body and the God we all served. I told him that we appreciated his time with us and prayed he'd do well in...well, wherever he was moving to. I've long forgotten. He smiled, shook my hand. The applause was deafening. This time, of course, it wasn't for Superman.

Chapel went on for a while. I think we took out the next class period before we were done. In about a week, I'd walk across that stage again and, this time, I'd be wearing a robe, not a cape. It wouldn't be the last time I wore the cape, though. I was headed for yet another costume upgrade. My college days were at an end. The adventures of Superman on Earth, however, were just beginning.

Don't miss the next thrill-packed adventure, "Mrs. Superman".

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7. Superman's Senior Moment

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