The Marvel of the Superhero

I collected Marvel Comic Cards in 1990 and 1991. It's a trademark of mine. I'm quite proud of my two binders full of X-Men, the Fantastic Four, and, of course, Spiderman. There are only nine cards per vinyl page to ensure easy access to the back of each card--the best part. It was here that I learned that Quicksilver's strength is in his stamina, that Rogue's durability is one of the highest in the Marvel world, and that Phoenix is actually the daughter of Marvel Girl and Cyclops that has traveled back in time to save the universe.

Marvel comics alone has spawned some of the biggest blockbusters in the past couple of years: Spiderman and its sequel, Daredevil, The Hulk, and the X-Men movies. Why am I so fascinated with Daredevil's ability to taste something and list every ingredient? Why will I pay $7 to see a man dress up like a flying rodent? Why do I envy a masked fame? A fame of anonymity?

Today I wanted to be Rogue. I wanted to remove my gloves and place my hands on the person next to me--to have their life for a day (minus the killing-them-in-the-process). I wanted to be able to play the Liszt Concerto in E-flat Major like Andrew did in masterclass. I wanted to be able to smile at a boy like Anna did in the hall. I wanted to be my fifteen-year-old student on their way home in their mom's SUV. I wanted to be anyone but me for just a minute or two.

Can they can do what I cannot? Does Rogue have it better than I?

I am not a superhero. I am me. And for today, that has to be okay.