SUNDAY Column: A Love Letter To The Original Robin.

Dear Mr. Robin:

I hope this letter doesn’t catch you by surprise. I figure since you’re older now, it might, but I hope that’s not the case as the last thing I’d ever want to do is induce a heart attack. You see, I came across a lovely, gorgeous photo of you recently. It was a brilliantly colored photo; you had a wild smirk on your face, a glint of wildness in your eyes and a glorious gold cape sashayed across your back. You couldn’t even fool me with that black mask – your inviting eyes still beamed through straight to mine.

You just looked so dapper. And, well, it about knocked the wind out of me. If I had the ability to walk, heck, it probably would have knocked me right down, too.

Am I being too subtle here? OK, I’ll go the obvious route: I’m in love with you. Well, more like I was in love with you. When I was 8. My sister and I used to watch re-runs of your show every day after school. Or was it weekends? I don’t remember – see how much power you had over me even back then? It was electric, I dare say. Your little show may have been called Batman, but as far as I was concerned, you were always the real star of the show. The way you put all your effort into those POWS and BAMS and ZAPS, all in a fell swoop effort to keep Gotham City – and the world – safe from the prowess of Cat Woman, the unsolvable puzzles of The Riddler, the coldness of The Penguin and the not-so-funny jokes of the Joker.

In short, you commanded that television screen for a solid 22 minutes. Those were some of the greatest 22 minutes of my life.

I truly hope I don’t come across as some weirdo, obsessed fan. I just mean to say that you were my first. My first hero, that is. Superhero. You made me feel safe. You made me believe that there were good guys out there taking down the bad guys. You taught me that the good guy – or gal (I was a forward-thinking youngster, remember) – can finish first and save the day. Sometimes without even breaking a sweat.

I often wonder if you ever felt overshadowed, though. Batman was sort of full of himself, wasn’t he? Did you ever feel like you did all the work and he got all the glory – and the girls? I can see how that – well, and the tights – could be all very emasculating. But don’t worry, I didn’t succumbed to Batman’s charm or advances, and I definitely wasn’t fooled by all the flash and pizzazz of his pointy-eared hat, either.

You see, Batman was all eye candy. You, my dear hero, were the one with substance. So the way I see it, you and I are pretty much alike. There may be others around us who sparkle, have pretty hair or a gorgeous grin. But we’ve got something they don’t: substance beyond the exterior. That will, no doubt, always save the day.

Besides, do you think those sparkly, flashy people would even know how to do a proper POW? I don’t think so, either.

With all my love,

P.S. If I someday become a superhero, will you help me choose a proper name for myself? Ooops. I’m sorry. Was I overstepping my bounds?

[Photo via ffffound]