Local Heroes

Remember when the Power Rangers TV series got to be such a big-ass deal? It glorified the kind of fake chop-sockery previously found in third-rate kung-fu movies. But kids dug it. For years I could hardly turn around in my front yard without seeing, out of the corner of my eye, some local kid, inevitably a "he", aiming for my head in mid-roundhouse kick, at which point he learned the sad difference between the physical ability of six-year-olds versus clever film editing as the blow would often land mid-buttock with all the kinetic energy of a stale bagel. I quickly learned to not laugh at such attempts as frustrated li'l Power Rangers' second phase of attack always targeted the groin.

Even though they were disappointed that I didn't collapse into a helpless, twitching stack of mortified bad guy goo they knew there would always another day. Because the Power Rangers were real.

Fortunately, these kids grew up and joined the workforce, becoming doctors or lawyers or carpet cleaners. On the weekends they blew off steam by going bowling or going hunting or becoming sports fans. Every week they'd faithfully follow the adventures of their local football team, watching them battle their hated rivals, perhaps even buying a team jersey bearing the name of their favorite team member. And when that team member left the field of play and went all Power Ranger on his fiancee' and was subsequently expelled in shame from the team there would always be a group of fans that would continue to defend him.

Because they know that football is real.

=Lefty=