Ever since I was a little guy I have wanted to be Superman. Up until I was... hmm... 27 or 28, I was waiting for the day I would discover I could fly, get my X-ray and laser vision, and be mostly invincible.
My loving wife (Mel over at frugal heart) reminded me that over the last few years, I am becoming more and more like Superman. Let me explain. In August of last year, I had surgery on my eyes so I could become a military pilot. The procedure is called PRK and is similar to LASIK but is an acceptable vision correction procedure for the military. After I healed, the eye doctor told me that my vision was at least 20/10... AT LEAST? He said they didn't have smaller numbers to test for better than 20/10. Going from 20/200, that is a huge difference. Sound like super-human? I think so.
Yesterday I flew by myself for the first time. It was pretty exciting having the wind rushing through your hair, wondering if the powers that allow you to fly would suddenly fail, and wondering how blue and red tights could be so comfortable. Just kidding. I did fly by myself albeit in an airplane. I have a few more kinks to work out before I attempt unassisted flight. However, since flying is a prerequisite, I am getting closer.
I eat lots of fiber and vitamins every day in an effort to strengthen my skin enough to stop a bullet. I think I am ready but my wife refuses to test my theory. Shucks. I am also trying to be vulnerable to Kryptonite. I eat about 10 servings a day and, so far, it just makes me regular. No sweats or weakness or near death experience.
So, as you can see, I am closer than ever to achieving my lifelong dream of becoming Superman. I'll let you know when those other, minor issues are taken care of (I will, of course, have to post anonymously so you won't know my true identity).
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Some of you might see the title of this post and chuckle inside. Why? Because we have all seen or heard of the wily cat that would strike from nowhere and vanish as quickly. Most of the time this makes me laugh because our cat freaks out and hops all over the place when he does his little sniper attack. Today, however, I realized that our cat is a terrorist bent on the destruction of America. You might be asking yourself how I determined this fact and to put your curiosity at ease, I will explain. The first sign of terrorist ties our feline shows is a black mask. Most terrorists wear a black mask to hide their faces. Our cat was born with a black mask, definitely bred for terrorism. The most obvious way to tell our cat is a terrorist is his apparent disdain for America. This morning, as our children were learning geography, the cat came out of nowhere and started attacking the west coast. This was an obvious planned assault. As the country was regrouping, after the terrorist cat moved off into the Pacific somewhere, I thought to myself, "I can't believe I own a cat who hates the U.S." Just then, the cat strikes again out of thin air. I feel bad for California and Oregon. It must be rough being devoured by a giant, terrorist cat.