By Delphine Schrank
Washington Post Staff Writer
Beltway traffic marooned the roast turkeys, but that didn’t stop a dynamic duo of world-saving, justice-championing, despair-fighting masked crusaders — one with red cape aflutter — from charging down the streets of the capital yesterday, dispensing Chinese-takeout cartons of corn bread, dressing and green beans to homeless people.
Yes, superheroes are alive and well.
Be not fooled. This is no tryptophan mirage. Nor is this a post-prandial attempt to take refuge from a feast-induced family feud by diving into an old Marvel comic book.
On a day when area nonprofit groups and armies of the charitable assisted the needy by distributing food or hosting Thanksgiving dinners in shelters, members of the all-volunteer Capital City Super Squad ventured out in their trademark disguises, each representing an invented superhero alter ego. Their mission: bringing smiles to the faces of many a homeless person as they proffered cartons of home-cooked fare.
That blur of red-and-white lycra brandishing a plastic fork who you could’ve sworn dashed by your window yesterday? That’s Captain Prospect. The one with a pair of scales emblazoned in scarlet felt across her chest? Justice. Sworn members of the six-person Super Squad, the pair sacrificed family mealtime to do what they do: do-gooding. Sometimes that means circulating abuse-awareness pamphlets, but most often it means cooking and handing out food.
“Do you need a box, sir?” asked Prospect, a 31-year-old who allowed a reporter to tag along on the condition of anonymity, citing a possible compromise of his secret identity. He pulled a carton from a Whole Foods bag, as Justice, a.k.a. Jasmine Modoor, handed over napkin and fork.
Quotidian reality, however, sometimes imposes its limits.
“The poultry delivery didn’t make it because of traffic,” Prospect said, his cape flapping behind him as he leaned on a marble statue in front of Union Station. Nice Ninja, another squad member, was meant to provide the turkeys and chicken but was caught in a Beltway tangle for an hour, so Captain Prospect told him not to bother.
“See, your costume is very cute, but he’s scaring me,” said Anthony Jackson, 41, laughing as he accepted a carton from Justice. Jackson, who sat on a bench at I and Sixth streets in a handout jacket with the price tag still hanging from the sleeve, has been homeless for 18 months, he said, since he and his wife separated. “My life hasn’t been right since,” he said. He’d eaten in a shelter yesterday, but the carton was most welcome, he said.
“It beats what I’ve had all day. Nothing,” said Samuel Sterling, 52, on the bottle-littered mound of grass between Massachusetts Avenue and H Street where he had slept the previous night. As he plunged into the green beans, Sterling said he had worked as a handyman in New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina destroyed everything. He made his way up to the District and sleeps where he can, he said.
“Hey y’all, I like your outfit!” he called as the duo bounded off.
Dozens of others sitting on walls or benches silently nodded their thanks. But others politely declined the offer.
“I don’t want a handout. I want a hand up” to find a job, said Bernard Hamilton, 51, a former Marine who regularly sleeps on the marble wall in front of Union Station.
If they only had real superpowers, Captain Prospect and Justice said, they know they could do so much more. Prospect, who works weekdays in social services, would opt for invulnerability. Justice, a first-year student at Howard University’s law school, would choose foresight. Her superhero identity conveys her desire to one day practice law as a social engineer, rather than a “parasite,” she said.
Last summer, Modoor was planning her move to the District for school and browsing Craigslist for furniture when she stumbled on a notice from Captain Prospect calling for volunteers.
“I thought it was a very unique way to approach community service,” Justice said.
Captain Prospect, whose business card identifies him as “the Washington DC Superhero,” dreams of building up the network to a dozen active superheroes and applying for nonprofit status so the group can stop paying out of pocket and fund more ambitious projects.
Meanwhile, he said, “There really isn’t any good reason someone can’t put on a costume and do good deeds like a superhero.”
If you can give a gift to a child, I want to shake your hand!
That’s right, this year’s Annual Toy Drop has a special twist to it. If you donate even a single toy befor December 10th, Citizen Prime will come out and pick up the toy personally in full dress uniform!
And remember, every donation goes to benefit the Phoenix Children’s Hospital kids.
(Phoenix or surrounding areas only, folks)
Step By Step: How to Participate
Every child deserves a toy on Christmas and we wouldn’t be heroes if we didn’t make that happen. Your help is needed across the country and its easy to do. Here’s how:
Most importantly, tell us how you’d like to help! We’re always happy to have Citizen Heroes, like yourself, assist in the Toy Drop. Let us know what you’d like to do and we’ll help you be the best hero you can.
Wish List
We are in need of items in all age groups. We are most in need of items listed under “Infants,” “Toddlers,” and “Adolescents” as well as gift cards, holiday wrapping paper, tape, and ribbons. The most requested items for each age group are in bold. I goes without saying that we greatly appreciate every donation.
To make a donation, please contact Jim Wayne at ..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = SKYPE />..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = SKYPE />(866) 369-3395 to arrange pick up or drop off.
Stefanie Marsh
It is with regret that “Geist”, a self-appointed “real-life superhero” is unable to accept your request for friendship. “If you don’t have a secret identity,” he writes, “for your own safety and protection, I’m afraid I’ll need to turn down your kind request to become MySpace Friends.”
Geist, a resident of Minnesota – real name and age unknown – spends his spare time dressed up as a masked Lone Ranger, attempting to “make my city of Rochester a better, kinder and safer place”. This he does by, in one instance, helping out incognito during a recent flooding episode: “My equipment and methods are completely legal,” he states on his blog, but: “I’m prepared to make citizen’s arrests.” Fondly, he recalls the time a man in need “called me his Personal Masked Avenger”.
Geist meets other Real-Life Superheroes online: “Street Hero”, a former prostitute, wears a black eye mask, matching bustier and knee-high boots to protect women working the streets of New York (she is also a martial arts expert); “Red Justice” patrols the New York subway in red briefs and red cape fashioned from an old T-shirt and a sock with eyeholes, encouraging young people to give up their seats to the elderly. “The Cleanser” picks up litter in a white cape and yellow rubber gloves. “The Super” fixes minor electrical faults in a red cape, a yellow shirt, green braces and green tights. Their cause is noble – “an unorthodox approach to doing good” – but is it surprising when “The Super” admits that in real life he has few friends? “A lot of real-life superheroes stumble along the way. And part of it can definitely make you feel isolated, like nobody understands you.”
http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/the_way_we_live/article2772355.ece
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGBJnPhMIQ
MY SQUEEGEE-FRIENDS,
TIMES ARE TOUGH IN AMERICA. THE ECONOMY, HEALTH CARE, AND FOREIGN RELATIONS ARE A SQUEEGEE-MESS. MANY AMERICANS CITIZENS HAVE SQUEEGEE-LOST THEIR HOMES AND JOBS. AND WHEN IN THESE DIRE TIMES AMERICANS TURNED TO THEIR PRESIDENT, HE DID NOTHING. IT IS TIME THAT AMERICA SQUEEGEE-RENEWS ITS HOPE FOR A BRIGHTER FUTURE AND SQUEEGEE-RESTORES ITS CONFIDENCE IN ITS LEADER. IT IS UP TO EVERY AMERICAN TO SQUEEGEE-ELECT A NEW PRESIDENT WHO WILL SQUEEGEE-LEAD US INTO AN ERA OF SQUEEGEE-PROSPERITY. BUT WHO? AMERICA NEEDS SOMEONE NOBLE AND COURAGEOUS, A DEFENDER OF WHAT IS RIGHT AND A DEFEATER OF WHAT IS WRONG, SOMEONE TO STAND UP AGAINST WHAT IS BAD AND FIGHT FOR WHAT IS GOOD, AMERICA NEEDS MORE THAN A MERE MAN, AMERICA NEEDS A HERO… AMERICA NEEDS A SUPERHERO!!!!!!!!!!!
THAT’S WHY I, SQUEEGEEMAN AM PROCLAIMING MY CANDIDACY FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!!!!!!!!! I PROMIS TO MAKE AMERICA SQUEEGEETASTIC AGAIN, BY SQUEEGEE-LOWERING TAXES, SQUEEGEE-ENSURING THAT ALL AMERICANS HAVE SQUEEGEE-HEALTH CARE, SQUEEGEE-IMPROVING EDUCATION, SQUEEGEE-WINNING THE WARS IN IRAQ AND AFGANISTAN, SQUEEGEE-BRINGING OUR TROOPS HOME, SQUEEGEE-GIVING THE WORLD DEMOCRACY AND FREEDOM, SQUEEGEE- FIXING THE ECONOMY, SQUEEGEEING CORRUPTION OUT OF WASHINGTON, SQUEEGEE-CLEAN UP WALL STREET, MAIN STREET, AND PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, AND SQUEEGEE-RESTORING HONESTY AND INTEGRITY TO THE WHITEHOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!
TODAY IS A HISTORIC DAY – A SQUEEGEE-HISTORIC DAY. I HAVE GIVEN YOU MY SQUEEGEE-CANDIDACY FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, NOW GIVE ME YOUR SQUEEGEE-VOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!
SQUEEGEE-THANK YOU AND SQUEEGEE-BLESS AMERICA!!!!!
SQUEEGEEMAN
Originally posted: http://www.sunnyrainshine.com/index.php?/words/zetaman–an-unknown-superhero/
By Simone
Moving to Portland required some adjusting.
Here baristas are respected like wine connoisseurs. Recycling is more serious than knowing the difference between plastic and glass. A tattoo can mean everything or nothing at all. Home owning is hip. Home renovation is even hipper. Anything bought second hand is better than new. And homeless people symbolize the city just as much as all of the above do.
It’s sad to admit, but at first I was startled. Not since my childhood in New York City had I been around so many homeless people. Surely they would try to take something from me, I thought. And so, I always had an eye out. I planned my walks home around streetlights and late night crowds. I pretended to be on the phone. I did the pitiful money search pat or the apologetic shrug and headshake at the mere glimpse of eye contact. But then, an even sadder thing to admit, I simply forgot about them. They began to go by unnoticed and ignoring their pleads had become as routine as walking to Stumptown on my way to work. So naturally the moment I heard of Zetaman I was intrigued. Zetaman is a self-proclaimed Superhero who traveled the streets of Portland to help the homeless.
I wanted to know who this man was. I wanted to know how he managed the strength to help day after day. I wanted to know where he hung. What he was into. Did his family know? Just how seriously did he take the title Superhero? And perhaps above all, I wanted to know how this man had built up the courage to actually wear a Superhero outfit, complete with a cape and goggles. Was it made out of spandex? Did he have several? Did he have an arch nemesis and a calling symbol? My questions were ready. I found his contact information and quickly sent out an email hoping for a meeting. Zetaman had an email address. How modern.
A couple hours passed and no response. Clearly I was getting too used to the immediacy of offices email responses. I waited longer. With my impatience I began to delve deeper into my background research. Zetaman is a 30-year-old man who lives in Portland. He maintains his daytime job and travels through the streets at night to hand out blankets, at times even giving the shoes off of his own feet. He certainly did not seem like one to let messages go unreturned. After a couple of silent months passed I begin to think differently. Soon I stumbled upon an article that spoke of his desire to remain private. His work, Zetaman said, was done out of goodwill and so he’d like to avoid any media attention that might come his way. Well then what about the cape? The goggles? And why go out of your way to proclaim yourself a Superhero? Who, above the age of seven, would say and wear the things this man does and not want any attention in return?
And then I remembered where I am. I’m in Portland. A city whose motto is to stay weird and this certainly fits that bill.
I decided to take a different approach. I would seek out the people he has helped, rather than him directly. I would go looking for the Superhero. On my first outing I walked directly up to a shelter and began asking if anyone had met this mysterious man in a cape. Within minutes Bill, who worked at the center, came outside. Helpful, I thought. A minute into our conversation I realized if I didn’t make some immediate reference to the fact that I have a bank account, an apartment and am not currently on any prescribed medications, I would soon be shuffled into the building behind him and placed away somewhere amongst the masses. I left Bill. More people, more places. I kept explaining. Yet still, no one seemed to know anything about this Zetaman. It seems I was either on the wrong side of town, in the wrong groups, asking the wrong questions or just as crazy as Bill had pinned me to be. I took a step away.
Maybe the allure of Zetaman is just as good as his actuality. After all, why did I feel the need to see, touch or question him senseless in order to believe in his existence? Couldn’t I find the little reserve of faith and imagination from my childhood? A little belief in the unbelievable. Or had I drained it all like an unsealed tub?
After sometime now, I’m happy to be left thinking that some things are meant to be weird, some things are meant to be secret and some things are meant to be believed in. And so I’ll let Portland remain, along with all its inhabitants, as it wishes to remain: unquestionably weird.
well,another night of patrolling the city.
word is starting to spread about the justice society of justice’s exploits..someone even came up tonight and said “hey,aren’t you those superheroes?”..ahh,the curiousness of it all.
we only ran with a 3 man patrol group this evening,which is kind of dangerous,but we did it anyway (it’s tuesday for chrissake)…Captain Whiskey,instead of fighting along side of us,decided to sleep..(crime doesn’t sleep!)..the Apostolic Avenger,and his wife the Green Discharge had to stay home and study for college exams.Redundo was busy at his job wrangling tards,and Powerful Man had to get up early to do a 12 hour security shift..*sigh*
come on guys…a little more professionalism,ooook?seriously though..good hereos are hard to find nowadays,so i’ll let it slide.
tonight we were fortunate enough to have a surprise visit from Doom Bunny..his military training is always a good thing to have on your side,but fortunately,we didn’t have to use any of our might. (besides almost getting into a impromptu kung fu fight with some mexicans)
i see it this way..
if the streets are quiet and there’s no crime to stop,then that just means we’re doing our jobs well.
the popularity of this thing is going thru the roof..everyone who hears about it instantly wants to suit up and come along with their own moronic character ideas and ridiculous costumes..a good friend of mine who is overly busty has come up with a great cliche patriotic female superhero identity…The TWIN TOWERS.she’s planning on having images of tower one and two over her crime fighting busoms of hope.
Cap’n America would be proud,lord knows i am.
things have gotten strange since i started fighting crime,everything seems so primary.so black and white…
i’m hoping that when supervillains start coming out of the woodwork,we’ll be prepared…i’m hoping for more joker style villains than say,lex luthor style…the lex type villain would have lots of money and gadgets at his disposal to further his sinister ends,while the joker type would just be a clown.
and i’ll kick a fuckin clown’s ass anyday.
peace in the streets
DoktorDiscorD