Monday, May 11, 2009

Mom

Inedible Delicacies: I'd like to spend today talking about your mother. First off, what did you do for Mother's Day?

Superman: I took my mom to breakfast; she insisted we go to IHOP.

ID: IHOP's not so bad. Why insisted?

S: Well, it was mother's day, so the place was packed. There was actually a line trailing outside. I told her I could fly us to the west coast, where it was earlier and we could probably get a seat, but she said, “That would be undignified,” and gave me a motherly smile. We ended up waiting an hour, and by the time we were seated I was famished.

ID: I didn't know you needed food.

S: I'm honestly not sure that I do, but the body gets used to things. Like sleep. I've never really tried to see how long I could function without sleep, but I start to feel psychosomatically tired after sixteen hours. But I was hungry, so I ordered a big country breakfast, a giant mocha, and two plates of appetizers. The appetizers came pretty quickly, and we hadn't finished them by the time the main course arrived. I forgot how much I love IHOP- they had some delicious strawberry pancakes.

ID: Ahem.

S: Sorry. Yeah. Not to advertise or anything. But food is one of the things I get really passionate about; humans enjoy their food, but I can taste every subtle flavor, every dash of pepper or oregano.

ID: Okay, but on the subject of your mother...

S: We talked. And I guess maybe part of the reason why I'm sort of steering clear of our actual conversation is we discussed some of the family's skeletons. It's weird to me the things that bring out candor in my mother- a crowded IHOP being one of the least predictable. And once we'd finished eating, we went to, first Target, and then, when she realized she needed something else, to a Walmart. It seemed like a very odd way to spend a day, but it was one of the first times I've just spent a day with my mother in what seems like forever. Oh, and that thing she needed, was chicken poop- which, I'm not dialed in enough to poop humor to have found it funny the first time, but we made an entire round of Target, with her asking every person in a red shirt she passed if they could point her at the chicken poop, and by the end I was giggling every time- and of course, once we'd made it to their gardening section we were politely told they don't carry chicken poop, which led us to the Walmart. And yet another round of watching my mother wander through a store asking people for chicken poop and getting odd stares.

ID: I can't help but feel that that story was tailor-made for me. Thanks.

S: You're welcome.

ID: I'm going to take a flying leap and guess that you love your mother. What I want you to tell me is why.

S: Okay. I think I can accomplish that with a story. Dad was always the farmer, and while mom was really good at being a wife and mother, she had a bit more ambition than that. And I remember there was a summer when I was just starting high school that they weren't sleeping in the same room. Mom wanted to start up a business, a store; she told him that nobody ever got comfortable farming anymore, that entrepreneurship was the way America was going to feed itself into the future. My dad was reluctant to start up a business- and at the time, he had a point, since statistically speaking keeping the farm going was difficult, but the odds of a new business failing were much, much greater. But one night they had a real loud argument- not that there was ever an argument they had where I couldn't hear even the whispered obscenities through the walls- but mom really laid it out. I think she'd been practicing, perfecting her sales pitch, because she was very professional, and confident, and I found myself really getting invested in her idea. But what finally I think won dad over, and I say this because his heart rhythm changed, is when she told him that if it was going to be ever, it had to be now. See, mom wanted me to go to college, and she knew that if she waited even another year, that even with an overly optimistic model, she wouldn't have rebounded the money they invested. She wanted to help pay for my education, not hurt our chances of paying for it. And, you know, once she'd put it that way, once she'd laid all of her reasoning and preparation out like that, of course he said yes.

ID: So I imagine that led to their, um, reconciliation.

S: Yeah- and I went for a run. There are some things no teenager should have to hear his parents getting up to.

ID: Sounds like you were a bright kid.

S: I was raised well. Dad was a good father, taught me how to be a man, and what working meant, what spending every hour you could providing for your family, and not just monetarily, but providing safety and comfort, respect and affection, he really prepared me to be a man. But my mom taught me so much more. Before I even started school she worked with me and my colors, numbers, my alphabet- worked with me even though my first words were in Kryptonian. She helped me with my reading, my multiplication tables, world geography. Every step of the way, mom was there. And when school asked for volunteers, whether it was for class field trips or because the teachers needed help organizing something, she was always the first to call the teacher or send a note. She always took an active role, in not just my school, not just my education, but in our community. She really prepared me to be a citizen, to be human. I think the combination is what made me the person I am today- and I love the person I am today, so I'm eternally, eternally thankful to the both of them for that.

ID: Your mother, she sounds like she was really at home in education. Why do you think she never became a teacher?

S: I think in a different world she would have been. But in this one, she was the wife of a farmer, and that's a pretty full-time gig, especially when they were both young, she really did a lot of the physical work around the farm. As they got older, and couldn't do as much themselves, they ended up hiring on more hands, and maybe then she'd have been able to go back to school, only she still had dad to take care of, and soon enough me to raise. And I think she prioritized. I think she'd have loved to have been a teacher; I think there was a part of her that felt she was a bad woman for not being more independent, not making decisions like that for herself to go back to school or to get a teaching certificate, but she chose her family over herself. I think the fact that that was what she chose makes it a very feminist decision, and because of the sacrifices involved a very admirable one.

And I want to clarify something you said earlier. I don't just love my mother, but I'm very proud to have had her as my mother. I think she still has a lot of greatness left in her, and I know she'll continue to make me proud.

We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.