Would it surprise you to know that I am a year older than Superman? I am. Superman was created in 1932 and I was born in 1931. In our household back then, there were not many books, but my father read me the daily comics in the newspaper.
I liked the way he read them over the way my mother read them. He always put in the âBams!â â Ahas!â and âPows!â She skipped over all of those, and, I suspected, some of the other stuff too, but I couldnât prove it because I couldnât read yet.
On a recent day off, I spent a great deal of time on the couch in front of the TV. My main purpose was to watch old movies, but I found myself channel-surfing at times when I couldnât find a film to hold my attention.
During that brief escape from reality, I couldnât help but notice the number of commercials touting beauty products â mainly for women, but the fellows werenât left out entirely.
I wish I had taken an actual count within a specific time frame, but didnât. Suffice it to say there were many.
History has proven that any member of the Davis clan who goes on vacation is destined to become involved in a mishap of one sort or another.
The curse is well known and can be documented well into previous decades. Regular readers of this column may remember the âBig Birdâ incident.