The road is hard. The road is tough. There’s no question that it’s rough, tough stuff.
I didn’t really know the meaning of that poetry from Tenacious D, but I do now. A new job with a new company has led me to working 75 miles away from where I live, and a commute that totals about four hours a day roundtrip until my lease is up and I move.
So, I’m on the road. A lot. Driving. A lot. I must be making gas stations and oil change places very rich.
Out of all the things I’ve been a geek about in my life, the automobile never was one of them. But when you spend 20-plus hours a week driving, perspective shifts like a Camaro. Driving in my car, I never ever want to go home.
I spent a Sunday afternoon spray-waxing and dusting and polishing in the November chill, my smartphone bumping some Cocteau Twins. Yes. I did.
And I’ve learned that when my geekery invades my driving space, it can be dangerous.
The worst combination is highway driving and Hans Zimmer’s Dark Knight film scores.
Holy fanboy, Batman!
When those drums and synths and explosions start going, I kinda forget that I’m Marvin driving a Scion tC. In my heart of hearts, in that moment I have become Batman roaring through the streets of Gotham City, my Batmobile spewing jet fire in its wake.
Joker is on the loose, and he’ll poison the reservoir if I don’t get there in time!
Catwoman has stolen the Diamonds of Isis! To the museum!
Robin, Nygma’s clues all point to the abandoned Monarch factory at Robinson and Finger!
Prepare for war, Bane! I’ve come to stop you!
I am vengeance! I am the night! I! Am! Batman!
And then I’m stuck on I-95. My Batmobile reduced to a crawl’s pace, my high-octane fantasy denuded, and the 5 o’clock me inside my bones sunken back into my pleated slacks and sensible shoes.
Befouled with reality, I think, “How come Batman’s never stuck in traffic?”
Seriously. He’s never stuck in traffic. You’d think it would happen at least once.
He needs the Batmobile because Wayne Manor is outside the city, situated on a cliff face upriver like the ding-dang Cloisters or something.
He’s gotta take the highway and the bridge, right?
You’re telling me the bridge never has traffic reduced to one lane because of summertime maintenance work?
What is this miracle bridge that never needs work?
Oh, those are the times he takes the Batwing or the Batboat, right?
But then how does he really patrol the city if he takes the boat?
If Gotham’s a big city, he can’t swing about the whole thing on grapnel lines, can he? No.
At least in the Dark Knight movies, they gave Batman a giant urban tank that could just run over cars if traffic is heavy. Plus it has missiles and can drive on rooftops. Very helpful.
That said, it still beats any superhero action figure that gets needlessly saddled with a vehicle in a way that violates everything about the character. I guess kids want these things if toymakers keep putting Spider-Man inside an SUV, giving Iron Man a pickup truck, or bestowing The Flash with a motorcycle. Yes, I can run so fast that I can travel through time and into other dimensions, but I want a hog!
The best Batmobile may be the Dick Grayson-Batman version that could pick up and fly all Back To The Future Part II-style. Had a bit of Batman Beyond energy to it, but much more flair.
My car cannot fly, at least not in the air. But thanks to Bob Kane and Bill Finger for making Batman a non-powered costumed avenger. Because that means he needs a car, giving us one more reason to latch onto the Caped Crusader. I don’t soar like Superman. I can’t catch a wave like Silver Surfer. No swinging like Spider-Man. And I’ve yet to float like Green Lantern.
But every day, for four hours a day, I can tear hell down some asphalt on my way to the scene, atomic batteries to power, turbines to speed.
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