Sunday, March 30, 2008 12:25 AM CDT
COLUMN: Superman is still there to save the day
By DAVE FOPAY, Staff writer
dfopay@jg-tc.com
The place had a terrific name, “Joe’s Barber Shop,” which seems to me would bring to anyone’s mind the image of a two- or three-chair place where guys not only got their hair cut but also just spent time being guys.
I have no idea how my dad found the shop. It was in the downtown area but just off the main street, not right on it, but however he ended up realizing it was there, it was where he got his hair cut. And from the time I got old enough to sit still in a barber’s chair until I became a teenager in an era when every guy had hair longer than his mother’s, it was where I got my hair cut, too.
The owner’s name was, well, you know, and there was at least one other barber there, too. When I was a kid, I never minded going to get my hair cut. I remember seeing my cousin, the same age as I am, there one time, and he sat with a look of horror on his face with his hands clamped over his ears for fear of Joe or someone else relieving his head of them. My cousin still has his ears to this day, so you know how that went.
I not only wasn’t afraid of bodily harm, I also liked talking to Joe and the other grownups. I was probably not even in kindergarten yet, I remember, when I said something to them and my dad one day that put them all in stitches. I don’t remember what it was about, but I replied with “It’s not funny, Joe” in a very serious way only that only a 4-year-old can muster.
But by far the best thing about going to Joe’s was not being the least bit impatient if I had to wait my turn to get my hair cut because he always had stacks and stacks and stacks of comic books. It was so much fun just to leaf through them when I didn’t have enough time to read the story just to see the action-packed pictures of super heroes doing super things. Joe even had so many comic books at his shop that one time, when a lot of them were getting old and he had some new ones to replace them, he gave me the old ones to take home with me.
After my dad and I got our hair cut, it was short walk to that main downtown street where he usually parked. On the corner near Joe’s shop was a small store that, if it were open today, would best be described as a convenience store. It was odd because it was in part of what I’ve heard was the oldest building in our town, built more than a century earlier as a bank for what was then Illinois’ pioneer days.
The store had a large variety of items for sale, but the only thing I ever really cared about was right at the door, a silver, wire rack that you could spin to see what was offered on all four sides of it without having to walk around it. I never got my fill of Superman, Batman or other heroes at Joe’s shop, so Dad always promised to buy me a comic book if I behaved well when I was on the barber’s chair. I always did and got to take my pick of the ones on the store’s rack.
There were a few times when I chose a Dennis the Menace or Archie comic book, but it wasn’t often that I could pass up reading about the Man of Steel or the Caped Crusader. Superman would use his amazing strength and unbelievable X-ray vision to fly in and save Metropolis from Lex Luthor, or Batman would speed to the scene in the incredible Batmobile to pummel the Joker and end his latest crime spree. Wow! Who could resist that?
Well, things change, they always say, but maybe sometimes they should also say that they change back. I lost interest in comic books when I got older and for the longest time never thought about going back to them. Still, there were things here and there over the years, mostly movies and novels, that reminded me of what it was like to wonder.
Thanks in no small part to my friend and co-worker Rob Stroud, I’ve returned to those days of wonder. Rob’s passion for the stories of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne didn’t fade away as the years went by, and his lending me books from his collection started it. Now, again thanks to him, there’s not a Thursday evening that I don’t sit down in front of the TV to see the newest “Smallville” episode. I get to wonder if Clark Kent will ever learn his true destiny and wonder what lies ahead if the world gets its super hero.
It’s nice to think, again, that a man can fly.
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