Dear Dreams,

I was to be a hero, clad in brown and gold, fighting colossal monsters as they attempted to destroy cities. Unfortunately, those college programs are tough to get in to, let alone find.

Every day, at 4:30 PM, a young me would rush inside, turn on the television and watch as Spectreman saved the day. He was brilliant,steadfast and quite popular with the ladies. Even my mom was a fan although, that may have had more to do with the break he granted her than his heroics.

Through adult eyes, this is all folly but, maybe that’s the problem. Common sense dictates that I will never be able to sport the ol’ brown and gold like George did without someone calling the police on me. Monster fighting has traditionally been a non-profit business venture so, I’d starve or end up with a suit covered in advertisements. As an adult, we require money to live. Unless, of course, you’ve already figured out the convoluted pelt exchange market and its rates; I’m not there yet but taking the certification course soon. The reality for most of us is that in order to get said money, we must work. In order to work, we must acquire skills to do our jobs well or, just be a really good faker. This cycle can be rewarding and constrictive; a gateway to opportunity or the closing door to your cell.

What we consider folly should, in fact, be our motivation. So many fall victim to this cycle only to look back, at the twilight of their years, at ghosts of opportunities missed.

In one episode, Spectreman was temporarily blinded by a giant, fire breathing salamander. While afflicted, George, the Clark Kent alter-ego of the series, struggled. Unable to help the people of the city, much less himself, he entered a pit of despair. Kid me did not like seeing Spectreman at his weakest. Not at all. I wanted my super hero back; the one that had it all figured out, in life and battle. Spectreman didn’t sweat it because he knew that he had it. Still blinded, Spectreman fought the salamander during an attack on a hospital. The monster had the upper hand and it was crushing to watch my hero hobble about. Then, it happened. Spectreman, with guidance from his overlord, found a way to fight the creature blind. Overlordey was walking him through the fight which, technically, is cheating but I don’t care. Spectreman then had some electricity zapped in him which restored his sight. Young me watched in delight as our hero resumed kicking salamander patootie. It was glorious.

Dreams, we shouldn’t let the salamander blind and stop us from realizing you. We should chase them, no matter how foolish other’s may think they are. In the end, it’s those chances taken that will feed our soul. I’d rather look back and laugh at my missed attempts than wonder what could have been. Just…beresponsible. No one wants a super hero decked out in Crest 3D Whitening patches.

Sincerely,

A Spectreman-in-training: Adriel