Man of Steel Memories Part 1
The first issue of Action Comics, where Superman made his faster than a speeding bullet debut, was published 70 years ago this month. Any old-timer (or their lucky grandchild) in possession of a 'near mint' copy can expect to sell it for half a million dollars according to Wikipedia.
I've been obsessed with the Man of Steel for as long as I can remember. His adventures almost certainly triggered my fascination with the United States and I'm embarrassed to admit that my reluctance to wear contact lenses might have something to with Superman's speccy alter-ego. So, to mark the Last Son of Krypton's eighth decade, I thought I'd share five of my Superman-related memories over the next week or so.
First up, my first ever trip to the cinema, aged four, on Saturday 9 May 1981 to see Superman II.
I know the date because I'm told it was the same day as the 100th FA Cup Final (Man City v Spurs - a draw), but Dad and our next door neighbour Eddie took me to the cinema in Bournemouth nonetheless. I've seen the film so many times since that I'm not sure what I recall watching it for the first time, but I think I became 'emotional' when our hero loses his powers.
I suppose my earliest encounters with Superman were via the comics but the films left the biggest impression on me. It was all well and good marvelling at drawings of a flying man but seeing it 'for real' was mind-blowing (I was only four remember). It wasn't just Superman's powers that struck me though. At primary school I remember replying to the "What would you like to do when you grow up?" question with "journalist", not because I liked writing but that the Daily Planet looked like a cool place to work.
That trip not only cemented my ongoing geeky relationship with Superman but also to cinema. Remarkably I can even remember what trailer preceded the film. It was Clash of the Titans and I was incredibly impressed by Pegasus the flying horse. Quite often when I'm in the cinema and the lights go down and the curtain pulls back I feel a pang of nostalgia for that first visit to the pictures.
Next time: How pretending to be Superman upset my grandad.