I had one of those moments this evening. The kind that only happen now that I’m a father. Maybe you know the moments to which I am referring… it’s when you well up over sentimental parent-child stuff. There’s a few country songs that get me every time, and there are books and movies aplenty. Tonight was the Hugh Jackman vehicle Real Steel, a fun little movie about an estranged father and son bonding over robot boxing. The climax of the movie was pretty dope, but if you think that scene was about the robots in the ring dukin’ it out, well… maybe you just don’t have those kind of moments.
Having a young son when you’re pushing 40 is an enlightening experience, to say the least. Sometimes we really don’t understand each other, but then we can kill half an hour dancing around to me playing the Transformers cartoon theme song on my guitar. I feel old and young at the same time, I suppose. But more importantly, I am more aware of my mortality, and somehow still perfectly confident that I can do anything.
I’m freakin’ Superman, yo.
Except, of course, that Supes doesn’t have gout and rarely has to lean on a cane to feel the least bit ambulatory. It really isn’t about invincibility or anything, anyway. It’s just, well… I suppose it’s just confidence. Confidence in myself and my ability to make things happen. Confident that I will seize the right opportunities as they present themselves. And confident that I’ll be able to handle whatever challenges life slings my direction with malice aforethought.
“He was like a ghost that night, floating inches above the mat… but I saw him.”