Good Pantyhose Can Work as a Fan Belt in a Toyota for at Least Three Days of City Driving

by lisa st john

I always thought the “Write about your Hero” was a lame essay topic. I do not have any heroes. Should I feel weird about that? I do now and then. Batman is pretty psycho when you think about it. He is a multi-billionaire who spends his split personality time playing vigilante. Forget Superman, who is really just an alien brainwashed by the square states mentality. Spiderman is infected…yuck. And the women? Afterthoughts of a feminist culture of guilt. Wonder Woman was my favorite; big boobs and balls to boot. But would any of us REALLY want a golden lasso of truth? Methinks not.

Shakespeare had it made. Elizabethans believed in villainy for its own sake. Sort of the post-modern view of humanity in a pseudo-technological society. Richard the Third? YIKES! He makes Bernie Madoff like look positively harmless. Titus Andronicus?  Hello, Jeffrey Dahmer.

If I had to pick a hero it would be a group—not an individual; it would be what I used to be, the working poor and middle class. The single parents, the people refusing to let go of the American dream. Okay, that sounds hokey. Let’s put it in a monologue and see if it makes more sense.

I go to put my pantyhose on and hobble out to the kitchen with one leg in and the other half in because I hear screaming and Jenna is hitting Sammy in the face with her cereal spoon yelling stop stealing my socks and the dog busts through the doggie door soaking wet with half of some bleeding animal in his mouth and all the kids start screaming then the phone rings and I wonder if the shirt Jimmy needs for today’s play is ready when I answer and it’s D___ from the diner asking if I can work a double today because the new girl called in sick and while I wonder if I can get Julie to pick up the kids from the bus on time I am also thinking that it’s Thursday and tips are great on Thursday dinner shift because of the weekly specials and Sammy comes in chasing Jenna with half a raccoon-looking creature in her hands and the dog barking behind them when I hear Jimmy yell Mom I need to get dressed like Abe Lincoln and I make it to the dryer where I slip on my work shoes and pull out a damp button-down white shirt and Jimmy is complaining that it’s wet and I drag him to the bathroom where I blow dry him with one hand and put my mascara on with the other and yell to the girls to get ready for the bus and did I call Julie? I check my watch. It’s 7:30 AM.

I guess I could choose the altruistic group like Mother Theresa and Gandhi, but I don’t believe in altruism either. Ayn Rand is an idiot. People do not do things because they make other people feel good. Logically, we would never do anything that didn’t also make US feel better.

Heroes. I choose (other than real people) Nurse Jackie and House. At least they are honest (to people other than themselves).

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