Spider-man vs. My Mom.

My first comic book was Giant Sized Spider-man Man-Thing. Saw it at a magazine stand in a California Ralph's and I had to have it. That was my first foray into the whole sequentual art scene (as those who are embarrassed to admit they read "funny books" will say they "invest" in).

Not gonna lie to you, that was my love afair with comics. Like your first crush. I think at that point, I saw more than the here and now. I started to wonder how Peter Parker was going to get out of that mess and what will happen next week. Who is this Mary Jane and Gwen Stacy? The Lizard? He's brilliant! That's no Batman TV series costume, that's some f'ed up threads Parkers sporting there! I was quite tiny and young, so I'm going to assume I thought, "f'ed up".

(I still have that comic too!)

My mom so didn't want to by me anything, especially a comic book like that. But I was relentless. Only later did I experience how much she detested that decision.

I was so excited when the Cheerios cereal I was eating advertised that you could get a free...yes! FREE!!!..Official Spider-man Web-shooter. This, was like seeing the face of GOD! It was Official, and it was just like Peter Parker kit bashed it in his room at Aunt Mays house! It was blue and red, with...er...a spider-man face on the strap...and...okay, it had a suction cup dart with a plastic web strip and a 2 foot line. Not very accurate, I know. And it wouldn't stuck on walls, nor support my weight, but to a 6 year old Spider-fan...it was pure kiddie cocaine.

And it was free: for 6 proof of purchase and $5.95 shipping and handling. Well, shitcakes, I need to eats me tons of that cereal! I ate that oaty crap as much as I could, and ate, and ate, and ate. My mom wondered why the milk was always running out and the sink was filled with bowls and spoons. And ants, from all that sugar I was tossing about the kitchen. I started to hate that cereal and the happy yellow box, but, If evil had to be smited, I needed the tools to do that! I needed that web-shooter asap!

If I was only stronger of stomach and fortitude, I could have probably choked down 6 more boxes of that crap to get a second web-shooter. You know...backup. And my Mom was starting not only loathe Spider-man (I was practicing daily bouncing off of things and those Spider-poses), but my need for. More. Cereal.

Thank you Spider-man for my spider-diabetes!

When I finally had enough for one shooter, I begged anyone who would hear for the $5.95 and a stamp. All I had to do was wait a few days to get my bounty...not realize what "up to 6 to 8 weeks" really meant to a 6 year old. That, my friend, is an eternity.

Daily, I asked my mom if the Web-shooters arrived. This is what drove her mad, I think. Because, I had to ask, every single day, My spider sense was tingling every afternoon, and that must mean that mom HAS to check the mail! After a bit of time, the headache induced fire stare at me, meant I shouldn't ask anything anymore.

I had to make time pass, so I practiced my moves. I practiced my web-shooting poses with the two inner fingers tapping the center palm. Making sure of the accuracy and proud of the tight strain of the forearm as I extended my hand. Doing research on the types of webs i would be able to make (if it were all real), and building myself a spider utility belt out of cardboard, markers, and masking tape.

OhMyGod!!! Did I forget to ask mom to check the ma...

"NO!!!! STOP ASKING!!!"

So, enveloped in my Dojo of the Spider...the day finally came...four months later. It came! And as my mom threw it at my head, I saw it was lovinging packaged in a brown cardboard container with no writing on it. Well, of course! If it came straight from Peter Parker, he wouldn't just write on it "Caution web-Shooter" across it. Secret Identity, y'know. He can trust me, and yes, he's very clever!

When the box was opened, it was magnificent. All plastic with bad "engrish" instructions and a arm strap too small for even a child hand. Okay, so the dart wasn't activated from the center palm, but it was the coolest thing in the entire universe. And I couldn't wait to take it to school and show the guys tomorrow! I will not pimp it and put it on today. Nay. it will be more awesome at school, when I will then impress the kids with my spider-skills.

The next morning, I was up so early, it was still dark outside. Skipped breakfast as it turned my stomach now, delicately packed and maintained my crime fighting tools in my backpack, and was drooped off at school. The wait for recess was intolerable.

When the bell rang, I gathered all the kids and opened my backpack...and proceeded to strap on the official Parker made web-shooter. It was like a slow montage from a summer movie: straps went into place, the 2 feet of twine was carefully unraveled, the single suction cup dart was inserted and the release lever cocked back, with a musical score rivaling John Williams played in my head. I had a friend place an empty juice box 3 feet away and stand back! To moved to position and trust out my arm with the two inner fingers hovering over my palm, ready for the first test run of my first superpower. Just press down and... Thwipp...

A large hard was clasped upon my device before I could say anything and i was hastily hauled into the principals office. Looking down as I sat, the Web-shooter was...missing!

Apparently, they thought this pen spring controlled Nerf dart that can only shoot, no, more like fall, 2 feet, was a dangerous murderous device. It was to be confiscated.

I was devastated. When I went home, I waited at the door for my mom to come home. She would get my web-shooter from those neanderthals! They were impeding Justice! My mom will go for bat for me! She knew how important this all is...

When she came through the door, I speedingly told her the fate of the Web-shooter. She gave off a scary smile. I was so cold...

"Yes, your teacher called me. I told them to keep it. maybe you will learn your lesson, hmm?"

What frikin' lesson?!

Probably a teacher took my shooter and gave it to her kids! I think this was the point where me and my mom deviated from each other. Decades later, it still bothers me. Can you tell?

Over the years, I became Peter Parker, hapless romantic, born loser with a heart of gold. My mom stopped talking to me, but, Spider-man never left me.

And then, I saw this at a Goodwill...

It's not the same hokey piece of crap from way back when, I can't even find a picture of it, maybe it did kill a kid! But it is an echo of my lost childhood friend. And, hell yeah, I put it on! But it stays in it's box until such extreme heroics are needed.

With great power, comes great responsibility. That's what Peter taught me...

Back in the Saddle, for Kinda the First time

"...On behalf of the group and me-self, I hope we pass the audition." - John Lennon on the rooftop of Abbey Road.

I am not good at dating.

I don't have the chops, or the experience. And many times, I don't even know that the get together of a man and woman can be construed as a "date". What is a date? God, I just wanna meet people, and it's like an audition for a part that i haven't even read the script for.

I never dated. Oh, I've had relationships and girlfriends, but a date with a phone call, and a pick up at the ladies house, and the dinner and a movie with the capper peck on the check, kind? NO. Only seen it in movies where it's usually Wally or the "Beve", and they bring a box with a flower in it to pin on the breast of a young adolescent. They also wear sweaters with arm patches and the word "condom" doesn't exist yet. Probably not the best role models.

Usually I just happen to fall into relationships. It just happens. And I wake up with a "okay...what the hell just happened" puzzled look on my face next to a beautiful girl with a smile (for the moment, seemingly), and I find we're going to the mall together. Checking out Spencers Gifts and Hot Topic while I hold her purse.

...and as I'm holding her purse like it's a bag of dog poo, I see other guys standing about with similar bags held aloft and looking lost. No, not lost, but wondering "what the hell just happened?" It's like I was the last to know we're "together". I am so clueless when it comes to this crap.

And I know once again, I skipped the "date" part.

Y'know, let me take that back. I DID go on a date! Once. And as I remember it now, there is a reason why my mind chose to lose that information.

looong long ago in a far away land of Whittier, California, I was working at a pizza place and finally got the testosterone to ask this girl out that wasn't a buddy to begin with. She was young and pretty with long blond hair, and unknown to me, quite an attitude. I was damn surprised she said yes!

I picked her up at her place and it felt like a real "Leave it to Beaver" Date! She dressed better than usual, and I was a gentleman and opened the door for her even though I thought it was cliche'. I told her where I was taking her to dinner a really really nice Italian restaurant...

When She said she didn't want to go that far, and wanted to eat at the place we worked. Expensive Italian food, or a chinsy pizza parlor where all the co-workers will think I'm the cheapest dumbass date in the entire world. Thank god we didn't work at a McDonalds. And the "dinner" was quite fast and relatively talk free. Why did she say yes?

Afterwards, she invited me back to her place, (a nervous "score!" would be applied here, like I know what to do next, right?). So what did we do, you little perverts? I'll tell you in all the sexy detail: She brought out a photo album filled with Polaroids of the guys she's really lusting after for me to see how awesome he was. Why did she say yes?!

Next on the agenda? Me saying good night. I never know when the kiss, or hug, or handshake is ever applied and I was so uncertain what to do...but I needn't bother. She asked me since I was going, could I drop her off at the pool hall Mr. Awesome hung out at. You know me. I'm a dumbass. Of course I did.

Why did she say yes? I found out later she said yes, because her friends told her, "eww. Don't go out with him...", and she wanted to piss them off. And so my mind sealed the records of that caper ASAP. No dates for you, buddy.

Leap almost two decades later: I'm now dating again, and have NO clue what the hell I'm doing! I met this girl and we talked for a long time, I finally ask her out and she says, to my surprise once again, yes. She's funny and intelligent, and we talked about so many comfortable ideas, it seems like it'll be a good time had by all! We make a date to met at the Starbucks and confirm which one, since theirs 18 per block by law in Vancouver.

I arrive all nice and neat, I look fantastic since I don't have that High School fatness and nerdy grr-animal clothes. This is my FIRST date! The big leap in the deep end! And I get to Starbucks an hour early.

When she didn't show up the first hour, I figured, "oh women and getting gussied up". I drank that cup of tea slow because I had to get a loan to afford the "Grande". When Hour two showed it's head with no one there, I was trying so hard to look like I wanted to be there as a solo. Read the coffee menus a billion times and attempted to look casual instead of disappointed level 10. Hour three. maybe she was attacked by Yetis and had to carve her way out of the stomach of the King of Snowmen with the jawbone of a steer found within his gut. Then, fight her way to a cliff side and leap off into a torrent of rapids, trying her best to get within a cell phone area to make a call to me saying she'll be a little late.

Called it at four hours and pronounced the date, D.O.A.. I also felt a bit pathetic for staying that long. Hope and stupidity ride the same road it seems. Never heard from her again...

Why did she say yes? Deja vu all over again

Later I met Catt and we had a good sushi lunch. During the fried calamari, I was of course, clueless as to be expected, but this time, I so needed to know:

"Uh, Catt...can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, shoot..."
"...are we on...a date?"