My wife the pre-school teacher gets asked all kinds of questions. But I loved this one: “Where do all the superheroes live?” She didn’t know how to respond. I think it struck her as slightly ridiculous. “Little boys and their superheroes. Goodness me!” Yeah, I thought to myself as she told me, where do all the superheroes live? Great question little kid. Don’t you just love the mind of a child that age? That it’s so simple and unburdened by the problems of, say, a second grader: What am I going to wear today? Should I use this color of red Crayon or that color of red Crayon? Or my problems, which usually involve a bill, or a work project, or why I pressure washed the back deck before the oak trees finished dropping 17 tons of yellow mash. (I mean, what was I thinking!?!) Talk about not a care in the world. I so wanted to answer that question: “Well, a couple live out by the interstate, near the outlet mall. One’s on the island, in a cave, powered by … nuclear-powered … bat guano …” (My superhero stories are not very elaborate or good.) But it got me thinking like a grownup kid: Where DO all the superheroes live? Do they meet for coffee on Saturdays to compare stories and bat around ideas? “You know, these new corrective lenses not only help my nearsightedness, but also focus my eye lasers when I’m cutting through steel.” Do they do … Continue reading The superhero housing … out by the interstate