Remember how awesome Saturday's used to be?
If you're in your mid-twenties, you probably don't. You were probably at a soccer game or a ballet.
If you're like me and of a... certain... age, you probably were having none of this. You were probably participating in that wonderful ritual of watching Saturday morning cartoons. You knew the drill, waking up before your parent(s), forgoing the brushing of teeth, heading straight for the kitchen in order to grab the biggest bowl in which to pour your milk and cereal in which to fortify yourself for the day's mind-blowing events.
Would they show "(Verb!) That's What Happening!" on today's Schoolhouse Rock? Would Batman and Robin be smart enought to defeat The Moon Man? Would this be the week my fave episode of Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends, "Seven Little Super-Heroes" would re-air? What new way would The Super Friends find to let The Legion of Doom escape this week?
Saturdays were kind of magical back then. I was allowed to be in my own world. I was allowed to be quiet. I was allowed to be myself. It was the one day where I was allowed the privilege of truly being a kid.
Of course, I had chores to do. Of course, I went swimming too but the unwritten rule was balance and in that balance, there was the opportunity to make the day what you would make of it.
Today, I work about six days a week and I am thankful for it but sometimes... well... you wish for Saturday.
Last Saturday, I got a little of it back.
I came to work with a Super-Friends DVD set in hand. We (Big Monkey Comics) moved in April and in order to give one of our new rooms a sense of "movement," we put a TV and a DVD player in there. What usually happens is that someone walks in, watches for a few minutes, while commenting on how great cartoons used to be and then they remember that they some appointment to keep and they move on.
This Saturday was a bit different. Two little boys came in with their father. Now, these two little boys are let's just say... active. They just always seem to be on. Their father has been away from comics for a few years and has started to dip his toes back in and really seems to be enjoying it. Plus, he's a Blue Beetle fan so he's aces in our book. While he was off in one of the other rooms, we noticed something we hadn't heard before while the little folks were in. Other than the TV, absolute quiet.
As anyone who has or has worked with little boys knows, absolute quiet means two things:
One: They've managed to knock each other out.
Two: They're plain up to no-good and they don't want anyone to know they're up to no-good.
Quietly, I walked into the room, ready for whatever the day would bring and I was completely and utterly charmed.
There they were, these two little boys, lying down, their chins in their hands. Little legs gently kicking in the air, absolutely quiet, enraptured by The Super Friends.
It was Saturday morning all over again.
Also, have you been wondering, like I have, what Ted Kord's been up to in the after-life? Find out at The Bugle's Planet.