Superhero by Day?

I realized recently that there are two distinct kinds of superheroes: Those who are always on, and those who treat it like a day job.

I came upon this epiphany after taking a picture of myself tearing off a shirt to expose my Batman uniform underneath. Of course, this is factually inaccurate. Not because I'm not actually Batman, but because Batman never wore his uniform beneath his street clothes. During the day, Bruce Wayne lives his millionaire playboy lifestyle, living his life to the fullest. It's at night, during his pre-planned shifts, that he pulls on his cowl and becomes…Batman. He has a distinct line between his life as Bruce Wayne and his life as Batman. And it's relatively easy to maintain. There's such a disconnect between the two, that it really is just a hobby for him.

On the other hand, we have the superheroes that are always on. Take Superman, take S

piderman. They have the suit on beneath their clothes. When the ugly head of crime is reared, they're ready. They may have their pre-planned patrols, too, but they're also just ready for action.

Scenario: A superhero, in his street clothes, is walking down the street and glances down an alley. A woman is being violently mugged. What does he do?

Batman: Well, as I'm dressed in my Bruce Wayne clothes, I have to decide whether it's worth stepping in. If I decide that it is, then I have to make an assumption about how long it will be going on. If it's going to be over soon, then I probably won't do anything. I'd have to step in as Bruce Wayne, millionaire playboy, and I don't really need that kind of publicity right now. If it's looking like it will take a while, I can take a car home, change into my uniform in the Batcave, and head back out in the Batmobile. I mean, Wayne Manor is a bit out of the city, so I have to weigh in factors of time of day, traffic, etc. Yeah, I'd most likely just let him continue on his way. It's really not worth getting involved. I mean, I sometimes keep an additional suit over at the Wayne Enterprises (formerly WayneCorp) building, but that's still a bit of trouble, what with the elevators and all. I'd just let it go.

Superman: I'd duck behind a dumpster or through a car or something and strip down to my suit. Then I'd make sure justice is served. That woman's liberty shall not be impeded upon.

Spiderman: I'd duck behind a dumpster and strip down to my suit and pull on my mask. I'd make some witty comments and defeat the bad guy.

Spiderman and Superman both believe that their main purpose is to fight crime and protect the masses. It has many downsides, as it means crime-fighting comes first. It's more important than relationships, work, school, etc. Nothing is bigger than crime fighting. But Batman believes in a "trickle-down" theory of crime. The guys at the bottom, the street thugs, muggers, drug dealers, etc, they're nothing. They're just a symptom of a much larger problem. That's what he's after. He's going after the top rung, the criminals from which all other crime flows.* In his opinion, Spiderman and Superman are simply wasting time by spending so much effort on the little guys.

*Obviously, this is a flawed view. Following Batman's plan of attack, all the big criminals will be taken out, and any remaining low-level thugs will be dealt with during his shifts from 10pm to 4am. Outside of that, it's open season.

Soup That Eats Like a Meal

I was feeling rather hungry, so I went to the pantry to see what I had. I contemplated my options. Pasta, cereal, soup, stuffing. All of them seemed to carry the same fatal flaw; they wouldn't allow me to demonstrate, while eating, how much I love the National Football League. If only there was a way that I could carry on my undying support for football.

Thankfully, there was.

Thank you, Campbell's! It's good to know that you solved this problem before I even realized it could be an issue. And you have my back whether I'm in the mood for clam chowder, minestrone, or chili. You're awesome.

Pigeons.

While I was waiting at the bus stop for the elusive 54C, the woman next to me carried on a phone conversation. She was doing that thing where she had the phone on speaker and so I had the benefit of hearing both sides of the conversation. It was a pretty standard older lady conversation about what was going on later. The woman had a doctor's appointment to go to, and her conversational partner was picking up some kids or watching some kids or something.

It was kind of dull.

BUT THEN!!! Then the woman began making comments about the birds around us and how there seemed to be a group of pigeons amassing. And she was right. Up on the wires, more and more pigeons were joining up. The woman then started saying "They's waiting for Mary Jane! You just wait. They's all there waiting for Mary Jane." I didn't know what she was talking about so I just ignored it. She kept making comments to her friend about the number of birds flocking around us. I made the mistake of making eye contact and she asked me if I noticed the birds. I acknowledged in the affirmative. She said, "Just you wait. Mary Jane''ll be coming on the next bus, I betya. She gets fined for feeding 'em downtown, but she keep doing it."

And soon, the 88 pulled up and a little old lady in a hat and with an old lady cart got off. The woman next to me said "Mary Jane! When the 54C come?" And Mary Jane said just keep waiting. She crossed 40th and the woman said "You watch when she cross the street. You just wait." As she stood on the corner, the pigeons all started getting restless, hopping from wire to wire. The light changed and Mary Jane crossed Penn, and all hell broke loose. The pigeons started dropping down from the sky all around her. She reached her hand in her bag and tossed out some bird seed for them. She walked on her way, but the pigeons remained. Soon they flew off in another direction.

It was weird.

And the Winner For Best Surprise Gift Is....

In honor of the 27th anniversary of the greatest day in the history of me, people far and wide made offerings to me. These included a roll of wax paper, a box of generic brand toaster pastries, a pair of jeans, and a plush dinosaur head on a stick. And while this is seems like a strange assortment of items, they're all quite fitting and none too surprising in the grand scheme of things. But the best gift I received this year is one that is kind of unexpected. A charitable donation in my name of three rabbits, via World Vision.

"Wait. Did I read that right? Did Dan just say that the best gift he received was one that he didn't actually receive??"

Yes, you did. I did receive a card in the mail from Tom and Jean, the kindly philanthropists who made the donation, stating that I am now "part of something special". And it's flipping awesome. Why? Let me tell you!

1. I like to give. It's true. I like to give. I like knowing that I've helped the community or individual or local music scene, that I've done my part. I don't usually have the opportunity or resources to give, and, more often than not, I can find something much more enjoyable to spend my money on, but deep down I like to give. That's one of the reasons I'm a fan of Brad Yoder. He finances his albums by taking loans and grants from fans and they, in return, get a copy of the album and their name in the liner notes. That takes us to the next item...

2. I like recognition. I'm a horrible person who greatly prefers to give if other people know about it. I can only think of one time in recent history when I gave without getting recognition, going so far as to give the recognition to someone else, and it was such a pain in the butt and hassle that I don't expect to do it again soon.

3. I have enough stuff. I have somehow become the man who has everything. Every birthday and every Christmas, people start asking me what I want, and every year the list is shorter and shorter. I need a new laptop for when I start school, which my mom has made a grand donation of her own towards, but that's such a giant present that I don't feel right asking for it. Even when she offered the money, I told her to hold on to it until I know exactly what kind I want, since I'm much more likely to just spend it on windows or other home repairs. But I have clothes, I have pets, I have a means of transportation, and I have a comfortable life. There really isn't anything that is quite obviously missing (especially since I already bought myself a new camera). So another trinket or dollar-store gift is hardly what I need*.

4. I wasn't expecting a gift. Jean is great. Tom is great. I don't know when their birthdays are, and I don't know that I would get them gifts if I did. In turn, I didn't expect them to get me anything, either. So the card coming in the mail was a total surprise. Like finding a quarter. Good in a better than mediocre way. Not mind-blowing, but cool.

Combining these four items, we end up with an unexpected gift that allows me to give AND gives me credit for it, while being meaningful and, most importantly, didn't require me to do a damn thing. I feel good, I feel better about myself, and I didn't have to lift a finger or pay a penny. It's all win for me.



* I still love the trinkets and dollar-store gifts everyone else got me. I don't need them, but I love them all the same.

One Year Diary

In my mom's garage, there are two or three one-year diaries that belonged to my great-aunt. My mom came into possession of them, and they are absolutely wonderful to read. Mostly they mention things like "Did the laundry and went to the store. Weather was cloudy", the mundane details of everyday life. But they're great. A documentation of an entire year of life. I was inspired.

And thus, I made one resolution this year: to keep a one-year journal. And I have. I purchased a 2010 Moleskine notebook, and everyday I write down a synopsis of what happened the day before. At first I wrote it in the physical journal, but soon I moved on to writing it on Post-it notes to add in later. Eventually, it morphed into an online thing where I simply updated an un-posted Blogger entry to reflect the previous day's events, with the intention to eventually transfer everything over to the physical notebook.

And there is where the treat for people who have me on an RSS feed comes into play. Today I mistakenly posted the entry. Every one of my days since early February. I immediately removed the post, but as suspected (and confirmed by my own Google Reader), the RSS feed still exists. So to all of you who now have received a list of my day to day life, I ask the following:

1. You can feel free to read and enjoy. I looked over it and I'm not bothered by what it contains. I'd prefer if it didn't go any farther because of the other people mentioned, but if you've already looked over it you'll know I live a pretty boring life.

2. Please ignore the few dreams I've mentioned. That was the only embarassing part, the things that didn't happen.

3. Don't pass on the name of the person who potentially did porn.

Other than that, I guess you can just consider this an added bonus for being a fan. Kudos!

How To Save A Life

Saturday night, I attended a "Big Lebowski" themed birthday party for my next door neighbor. Tara and I had just gotten our White Russians and were standing in the entrance to the kitchen when a gentleman walked over to us who seemed familiar, but I couldn't place him. He seemed like he was already half-cocked, and was a bit of a close talker. He had an interesting conversational style, where he would kind of dominate the conversation, then back off a bit, then take over again. He mentioned that he lived up the street and instantly I knew who he was!

"You live in [house number], right??"

"Um, yes," he replied.

"I know Jenny, who lives next door."

"Oh, Jenny, right."

I excused myself to fill up my drink, leaving Tara to suffer his nearly incoherent ramblings on leaking roofs alone. When she finally escaped, she was understandably angry, but I stopped her and said, "you know who that guy is, right??" She did not, so I told her.

I had saved his life.

It was years ago when I had attended a backyard party at Chris Kaiser's house. This same drunken neighbor made a nearly fatal error in judgement as he sat upon the railing of the raised porch. Leaning backwards a little too far he was able to get a hand on his own house across the way, but was then stuck in that precarious position as his wife and child watched on in horror. I walked over, placed an extended hand upon his back, and raised him back up to the safety of his perch. His wife thanked me and I replied "Everybody gets one."

And here he was. It was odd to look on and know that, if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be here. I was responsible, for better or worse, for the man he was today. And that made me watch him more closely, to forgive his odd social mannerisms. It was like he was my creation.

He left the party a little early, shaking my hand as he said goodbye. He forgot my name, and as he walked away, I secretly delighted in my thankless job as a savior.

"A Broken Nose And A Broken Heart"

So after a year and 11 months, Tara and I have ceased our coupledom.

Obviously, the thought in everyone's mind is "Um...don't you guys have, like, a house and dogs and a cat and entire house worth of mutual belongings?" And yes, we do. As such, the break up is not the usual, casual, "okay, I'll have a friend come by next week and drop off a box of all the crap of yours that I don't want," but instead shall be the potentially awkward renaming and reworking of the relationship, taking it from "couple" to "roommates." The inevitable dividing of our material possessions will come later.

Apologies if this is painfully incoherent and stream of consciousness. I am still processing.

Today, the most bothersome feeling associated with the break up was the instant realization that I am no longer a member of a team. It is back to being just me against the world. Picking up on my weakness, the world decided to underscore my feelings of isolation and loneliness.

• At lunch, I was forced to eat my chicken cold, as a coworker chose to microwave a dish for 7 minutes. Not an eternity, but far beyond the limits of common decency when most people in the office have 30 minute lunch.
• When I went to the bathroom, the stalls on both sides of me quickly became occupied, not once, but twice, meaning I was unceasingly surrounded at my most vulnerable.
• When I waited for the bus, the first one to come along was the one route (out of a potential six or seven) that would put me farthest from home. I chose to wait for the next one, only to be stuck standing in the snow for 15 minutes.
• Adding insult to injury, the bus that finally came was an old style bus, where the seating area is raised up, blocking all view out of the windshield, and lacking the handy (and strangely erotic) female voice telling me which stop we were approaching. I ended up getting off a stop early, adding an additional two blocks of snow trekking on to the homeward journey.

Thank you, world, for kicking me while I'm down.