Once upon a time in The South
Bronx of America ,
I peeled back layers of old carpet to an era where people used newspapers to
line wooden floors. I found a reporter from the 1930s with my first name he
also used as his last. Suddenly I slipped through the rift of imagination and
fell from starry skies to a parallel universe where dreams come true.
“A
glorious place, a glorious age, I tell you! A very Neon Renaissance---And the
myths that touched you at that time---not Hercules, Orpheus and Aeneas—but Super
Man, Captain Marvel, Bat Man”
Tom Wolfe on
page 911 in Bartlett ’s
Book of Quotations
Years later, I recalled making a
wish to live life like a great American novel, one reading like the science
fiction of a comic book worthy of the shelves of The Public Library, my
childhood Fortress of Solitude. Ms. Raeside, my 6th grade English
teacher, believed I would do it in the near future. Just write what you know,
she advised. I know television.
KA-POW!
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