Where Is Superman?

My dearest friend in the world, Tracey Conn Kallab, is currently in the mountains of Beirut, having fled the bombings and ground fighting in what she describes is "all out war." She is American, down-right WASPy, in fact. Her husband, George, is Lebanese (Christian, if you're interested) and she was in the middle of a summer vacation with him and her two beautiful children. Reunionus Interruptus. Big Time.

I have to admit that I was nervous when she announced her vacation plans. I love her and them very much, so I have always been supportive of her relationship with her extended Lebanese family. And of her attempts to learn Arabic and to discover the beauty of a city that was once the Pearl of the Middle East. But now she is trapped there, unable to leave and being showered by Israeli rocket fire. The news has said little of other fighting, but the reason Tracey is currently hiding out in the mountains is because the fighting literally came to her door. Planes are grounded. Roads are blocked (and burning) and I wonder - who is going to rescue her? Where is Superman? He did make one heck of a splash at the box office recently; but I don't see him now. And I don't know who is going to act in his stead. While President Bush is admirably pushing for international assistance, I don't think he owns a cape or cod piece. (Now, Dick Cheny, on the other hand...Just makes that 80's torchsong by Bonnie Tyler, "I Need A Hero," careen through my head..."I´m holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night. He´s gotta be strong and he´s gotta be fast. And he's gotta be fresh from the fight...") Yeah, a big superhero. That's what I need. Hell, I'm so upset right now, I'd settle for Underdog.

I guess that I have to step up to the plate. I do just happen to have a nifty pair of red tights. And I look quite good in them, as a matter of fact. But what to do with them? I'd love to slap the leadership of Israel and Hezbollah both right in their olive-skinned faces. I am honestly sympathetic with both groups - with any group, actually, that is subjugated or oppressed. But I do not look kindly on violence. And while I don't want to get involved in the mess of politics, maybe I have to. Maybe we all have to. It seems to me that both sides have legitimate concerns and feelings; but that they are also very wrong in their actions, both the Israeli leadership and the radical terrorists of Lebanon. (And Syria and Iran for backing them; it seems that most of the rockets that have been ripping apart buildings and persons in Lebanon were manufactured in those "objective" countries. Then somehow they made their way into the hands of anti-Israel militia. And no one knows how. I have a theory, though: maybe Harry Potter was there; maybe he's a terrorist, too.)

It's a mess; NPR news just this morning reported that multiple agencies throughout the Middle East and Europe are hypothesizing that this is the beginning of World War III. UG. I'd really love to hide some kryptonite in a nice bowl of bubba ganush; you know? But I don't think that would be very realistic or effective. Plus, they might taste it. (Who says I'm not practical?) All I can do, it seems, is pray, support her frightened family state-side, and maybe send a little force field of love over their tiny cottage in the hills of Beirut. Sort of like the city in Logan's Run or that handy protective bubble that Glenda the Good Witch used to zip around Oz in.

In the meantime, I have to attend to really important matters in my life. Like getting the ink off of my hands from scraping the black crud from the secret code of the over-priced international phone card I had to buy. Like worrying about the fender bender I had the other day, scarring my beautiful black Jetta. Like stressing-out over the delays in launching my web site. You know, the really big things. These are my priorities now; these things and, maybe, squeezing into my red tights....