Dear Confidantes,
I was having a conversation, one of these casual things, with a lot of colloquial language. You. Know. What. I. Mean? The kind of a conversation which makes you roll your eyes slightly, and you wonder just when you stepped into a David Mamet play. I was starting to feel a bit demeaned by it all, and so I thought to try to rescue myself by including more voices. I asked two people nearby "what super powers would you two have?" They wanted good things; to fly, to transport instantly, to stop evil corporations. I wanted just one power: to know how people were really feeling, so I could say the right thing. To comfort with words is the superpower I desire. SuperSympathy Man. Or perhaps, KindWoman. I could carry daffodils in my utility belt, along with a useful Swiss Army knife, a bit of string, and a handkerchief.
To set the record perfectly straight, my superpower is not now, nor will it ever be, to Clean Up. Even if I were gifted in that way, I would not stoop to admit it, or risk being cornered by a capacity to serve.
Here are some superwomen, who are not cleaning up either, but doing really rather super things. SOTF, and States on Skates.
PS Another little thing, my Super Sisters; Kind Woman is a very fine song to play on your guitar, (the guitar might also be on your utility belt, or in the back of your pick-up or your bicycle) with only one tricky chord, which keeps your fingers nimble, so you can more quickly knit scarves for a league of SuperSnow Persons.
