To have a hero as simple as a comic book hero can be called and looked at as childish, outdated and even a little crazy. Who wants to say that they look up to a fictional character anymore? While many youths in my generation will say their hero is a musician or their parents, I stepped outside of the box when looking for a role model. I spent a lot of my life not having a hero, until one faithful day, going through an old box of horror comics; I came across an ancient issue of ‘The Adventures of Spider-Man’. It was an old rabbit-eared copy of the first issue, explaining the life of one Peter Parker as a bite from a radioactive spider changed his life from that of a normal high school student to web slinging, wall climbing, and spider/human enigma.
Automatically I felt some sort of click in my head go off as I reached the last pages, proclaiming ‘To Be Continued…’, a click telling me that this guy was someone who was pretty awesome; someone who I would be willing to call a friend and role model. Yet, alas, at my young age and new obsession with Pokemon I lost the story of Spiderman deep in my pre-teen mind.
I aged and grew, from pre-teen to teenager, forgetting a lot and learning a lot. I still never had a role model, as the thoughts of Peter Parker and Mary Jane lived on in the back closet of my deep subconscious. Then one faithful day sometime in the year 2002, I heard of a movie. A movie involving a certain web slinging, wall climbing, and spider/human enigma and a young red-head with a beefed up boyfriend. It suddenly hit me, Spider-Man! Spider-Man! Does what ever a spider can! Like a sudden burst of wind to a small flame Spider-Man re-entered my life, thankfully at a time when I needed a hero.
A large move was in my near future, one that would take me from Provo, Utah to Williston, Vermont. The idea was sprung on me like the death of Uncle Ben, and before I knew it in February of 2003 I found myself freezing my butt off in a state I did not even know existed. I suddenly found myself plunged into a deep dark abyss of sadness, missing my friends and family; hating my devil like 6 year old cousin; and wishing I was with my mom. Sitting in the basement of my Uncle’s house, I hated my life. Turning on the television, I was shocked to see an animated man in red and blue spandex flying through New York City. It was Spider-Man, flying at me and smacking me in the face with a well placed shot of webbing. I sat fixed, watching as Spider-Man battled with the death of Uncle-Ben, fighting the Green Goblin and Doc. Oc, and ultimately the death of Mary-Jane. Watching Spider-man in action only made me realize that I should be more like him. He lost everyone close but his Aunt May, and he was still out there every night fighting crime like no body knows. By the time the marathon got to the ‘Venom’ story arch, I was feeling good. I was ready to get over the fact that I was somewhere new, that I did not know anyone and that I was living with my Uncle and Aunt with their crazed psychotic son… that I was ready to use my spider powers to save the day. My day.
So when I hear someone say that having a comic book hero as a role model is ‘dumb’, I laugh and use my Spidey sense to give them a face full of web! Well, maybe not. I do laugh, though, and I always remember that picture of the high-school student Peter Parker, having been bitten by a radioactive spider, changing his life completely… and he never stopped doing what he needed to do, no matter what.