Pretty well every superhero worth their tights has a source of their power. For Superman it’s the sun, while Spidey relies on that radioactive spider bite. Buffy has rather obscure prehistoric magic, while Batman’s more subtle power oozes from his need for revenge.
Well, now I have a clear and visible source of power, I was wondering if I could apply to be a superhero. Here it is in all its glory:
[There should be a picture of the generator in our drive here, but someone has walked off with my camera. Again. Someone will be disciplined.]
It looks a bit like this:
except it’s not orange, it’s white.
Yes, we’re chugging along nicely with our generator. After its initial failure brought it a quick service on Monday it is now rumbling away night and day until we get our mains restored on the 14th. I think the lights flicker a tad, but that apart there is no noticeable difference to everyday life in Clegg Towers.
Today we had our first refuel, which also involved two men staring into the guts of the generator and scratching their heads – not an entirely encouraging sight when it’s the machine that enables me to work, heat the house, cook, light the place and so on. So despite any nacent super powers, I’ll be keeping fingers and everything else crossed that we keep getting the good old electrical version.
Glad to hear it’s working well, so far, Brian.
After the Gees went to see The Incredibles I made it known to my daughters that whereas the world knows me largely as mild-mannered, somewhat overweight and sartorially challenged scientific editor Henry Gee, I can effect a startling transformation and become … Captain Extraordinary. My super-power is the uncanny ability to turn up just as someone else has finished the washing-up.
My children were, rightly, sceptical.
The older one asked why she’d never seen me in my superhero guise. My considered response was that the advent of mobile telephony had resulted in an alarming decline in the number of telephone boxes in which superheroes might effect a costume change.
My younger daughter was more forthright. “You’re not Captain Extraordinary”, she declared: “you’re Daddy!”