"Don’t worry, it’s Robert Smith from the Cure....he’ll get me there in no time".
That is the only line I remember from the dream that completely robbed me from deep, restless, sleep last night. As though Robert Smith and punctuality were one and the same.
The actual plot of the dream is hazy. However, I do remember that the world was in peril and needed to saved by me. I also remember the most psychedelic part, aside from when I could sling web from my wrists, was the pending world devastation took place at the same time...throughout time. Not only was my ass-kicking prowess put to the test, but my time traveling abilities. Very similar to Quantum Leap but with a slice of X-Men and a quaff from the A-Team.
Dreams like this cause reflection. I wonder why I was born without the ability to shoot webs from my wrists. I then instantly wondered if I could choose, is that the super power I would want? I don’t think I will ever be able to truthfully answer that most elusive of questions. I wonder if my mutant powers lay dormant and I am merely a late bloomer (as evident from my size 8 feet).
Mostly I wonder if my world were in the grips of a mad man, what I would do.
I would like to think that my steed and sidekick and sidecar and utility belt and costume and canned grin and lightsaber and kung fu grip and steel jaw, were all ready for even the slightest altercation. But reality and honesty dictate that all I actually have at hand are soft muscles, a smarmy grin, and a sardonic personality. With this meager skill set all I am qualified for is slinging biting words that may or may not have the attacker feeling dumb enough about himself to abort his quest for filthy lucre.
"Mother of pearl handled pistol huh? ....Too bad you’re not supposed to wear white after Labor Day".
That doesn't even make sense. It wouldn't do much.
I am not asking for an apocalyptic event, or even a slight scuffle, I just wonder what would happen to me when placed in a situation like those. All my favorite books and movies feature predominately the archetypal hero's quest. This idea makes me start to wonder again: is a quest necessary to act heroic, or to merely be a hero? Is Robert Smith, in his streamlined convertible Rabbit of Justice transporting me to my destination in 1959 because he recognized a need and jumped to fill it....and because his car is ideally suited for the adventure...or is it because he has been through the proverbial ringer and was baptized in the waters of hard core bad-assness?
I think I might just roll my eyes and roll over. I want to think that I would rise up to thwart injustice. I may never know...and that is probably a good thing.
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6 years ago