On a train traveling from the Hudson Valley to Grand Central station today, Superman came on board in the form of an 8 year old boy. He was wearing a red Superman cape made of silk-like material light enough to ripple behind him. It shimmered. Beneath the cape his blue tee with the Superman insignia left no doubt as to his identity. His eyeglass frames were vivid Superman-blue, his face deep brown. He looked terrific. Superman boarded the train with his mother.
Having found a seat on the train I kept thinking about Superman. I walked back to where he was seated. With upraised eyebrows I checked for his mother’s consent. Receiving it I directed my attention to the boy, “I really like how you’re dressed. May I ask you something? Are you dressed like Superman for a special occasion? Or do you sometimes wear Superman clothes?”
His manner was gentle. Looking directly at me he explained, some days he dresses like Superman. Sometimes he dresses like Michael Jackson. He gave the impression there were other costumes. I wanted to know more. But since he was glancing at a game on the electronic tablet in his hands I left it at that.
Turning to head back to my seat I noticed the pink tee shirt his mother was wearing. It was emblazoned with an “S” Superman insignia/shield on the front. “You’re wearing a Superman shirt too!” I observed.
She pointed to the baby carriage in the aisle by her side where her daughter lay sleeping. “She was too. Before she got spaghetti on it. The whole family.”
Today I met Superman and his family.
Have been thinking a lot about dressing as a form of empowerment. This was kismet.