Holding Out for a Hero

“Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the streetwise Hercules
to fight the rising odds?”

Things I understand: cause and effect, supply and demand, Will and Grace, and perhaps Tony Orlando and Dawn. I understand that sentences should usually have both a noun and a verb, and that conjunctions are used to bind clauses together. (You can thank School House Rock for that bit of grammar trivia.) I even understand a few phrases spoken in a foreign tongue, though unless a swine bursts in a French city, I may not be a useful foreign translator.

I completely understand the difference between internal and external locus of control, the theory of post-purchase dissonance and the concepts of ID, EGO and Superego as introduced by Sigmund Freud. On some days, I understand (and concur) why some foreign governments hate ours, and if I try really hard, I can even understand that there is a reason that some people voted for George W. Bush. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, BEGIN to understand advanced calculus, the appeal of Seinfeld, Bronte Literature, American Idol and this:

There have been created for no other purpose than our amusement, a group of trailer park action figures. I use the term “action” loosely. The caption underneath the above banjo boy reads:

“Meet Lil Billy Boy. Billy weren’t too good in his schoolin. But he has a special gift. Billy can flat out play some banjo…”

Oh. My. God. (Please pause between the words for special emphasis.) I found it (and the rest of the set) being sold in a gumball machine in a KFC somewhere in Podunk Northern Indiana. I was on a return trip from Holland, Michigan: Dutch Kitsch Capital of the US. A beautiful, charming city complete with all things cheesy Dutch: Dutch shoes, little kissing Dutch Dudes statues, windmills, and the ubiquitous tulip. They did NOT, however, sell the trailer park set, only true Hoosiers would see the value in THAT kind of cheese.

I have to admit though, the above-mentioned toy was purchased by me while on vacation. Yes, for 50 cents and a prayer (“Please let it be the banjo boy, please let it be the banjo boy, please let it be the Arrowood Action Figure that I can relentlessly tease Keith with”) you could be the proud owner of one, too. It frightens me a bit. I’m all for a good action figure, as my desk would indicate, but a Straight-From-Deliverance-Kid is rather scary.

What have we come to? Where have all the superheroes gone? You know, the ones with special abilities and accoutrements? My Johnny West had guns and spurs and a hat, and even had a horse. My French Foreign Legion Ken Doll had the ability to speak in French and make crepes, plus he donned a cool FFL cap. (Okay, most of that was in my mind, but still…) What can banjo boy do? He doesn’t even get shoes! And, a banjo, though a mighty fine instrument, is hardly a super hero tool. (I can see the bluegrass musicians angrily typing, even as I speak.) I mean I understand the appeal of the Sigmund Freud action figure, and we all know what super powers the Jesus action figure has (does it come with bread and fish, or thorns and a cross?), but banjo boy? What’s next? The Chicken Sexer Action Hero? Perhaps Captain History Geek? What action figure do YOU want to see? Perhaps I’ll put it next to my Guardian of the Necropolis statuette, and of course Billy Boy.

*Bonnie tyler of Footloose fame, and there are so many good folk parodies of it....