It was probably 1953 or 54, and more than anything I wanted a Superman costume. I remember looking at them in catalogs, probably from Speigels or Sears, that were delivered to our house in the mail. When I asked Mom to get me one, even for my birthday or Christmas, she said, No. Then she told me a story about some little boy who had been given one, and jumped off his house, or out of a window because he thought the suit would allow him to fly. I cant remember if that kid got hurt real bad, or if he was killed, but I recall hating him. I couldnt convince Mom that I would not jump out of a window or off of the roof, and so I never got a real Superman outfit. That damned dumb kid was probably the most hated boy in America for a while, because I bet a lot of other mothers used the same excuse for not purchasing the costumes. I remember thinking Mom was being ridiculous. Why would she think I would be dumb enough to jump off the roof? So I, and, I imagine, a lot of other boys just had to use stupid dish towels or small blankets for capes, running through the house with our homemade capes flowing and flapping behind us, trying not to jump out of any windows, even though if we did, and got hurt bad enough, or killed, maybe all of our moms would be sorry they didnt get us real Superman suits.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 11:14:43 +0000