Southern Views

Author’s Note: Recently, in Action Comics Magazine No. 900, Superman announced his intention to renounce his U.S. citizenship. Well, buddy-boy had better think again …

“Thanks for coming on short notice, Superman. ”

“…my pleasure, Mr. Pres …”

“Please … have a seat. First, I want to thank you for walking through the door this time instead of bustin’ through the wall, like you normally enter the building. The last time you almost caused an international incident when the Chinese Premier was hit with a flying a piece of  plaster. The Premier thought that you were a little ‘over the top’. Do you have any idea how much the re-plastering costs are in an Oval Office, Superman? I doubt it. It ain’t cheap and I’ve already got the Republicans on my butt about government spending. The OSHA folks aren’t too happy about those grand entrances of yours either.”

“I understand. I’ll try to do better. How can I help you today, sir?”

“No need for formality, Superman. In the past when I needed somebody to get a good cussin’ out, Rahm Emmanuel handled it for me, but he’s not around anymore. Besides I am pretty good cusser-outer, myself. And since we got bin Laden, I’m feeling more than a little ‘super’, if you know what I mean. So this meeting will be just between you and me, super-mano a super- mano.  Now let’s get down to business.  I have a meeting with Snoop-Dogg right after …”

“…cussed out, Mr. President! I don’t understand.”

“You got a cussin’ out comin’ fella. A good one. And right now.”

“Mr. President, why do you wanna…”

“ You be quiet … let me talk fella!”

“Well, sir I don’t quite understand.”

“You just sit there and listen. It has come to my attention that you want out … want to renounce your American citizenship. Is that right? I couldn’t believe my ears when Joe Biden told me this morning. ”

“The world is getting smaller, Mr. President. I think that it’s best that I be a global citizen.”

“Now, let me get this straight. Are you’re telling me that you want to be a citizen of the world. You want to do that Bill Clinton crap?  Is that what you’re telling me? Is it? Well, let me tell you buddy-boy, I know Bill Clinton. I’ve worked with Bill Clinton. Bill Clinton is a friend of mine. Supie, you’re no Bill Clinton! Besides, the only reason that he’s out of town all the time is because he doesn’t want to go home to Hillary.”

“Mr. O, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. The world has become a much smaller place and I just think that it would be better if …”

“Well dammit, the answer is NO … NO…  No sireee! Absolutely not. You cannot renounce your citizenship on my watch. I’m not having it, Superman. I’m not. I won’t allow it. And quite frankly, I can’t afford to be blamed for another U.S. job going overseas. I  won’t be. Wait until Hillary gets elected or that Palin bi…bi…bi …broad or that punk, Donald Trump. Then if you want to leave, you’ll have my blessing. Hell, I might even leave with you.”


“Mr. President, I flew to Tehran a few weeks back to support the demonstrators and the President of Iran accused me of being a puppet of the U.S. government. Ever since then I’ve been thinking and …”

“That’s what you’ve got your cape all in a wad about? Come on, grow a pair.  They’ve been saying the same thing about Joe Biden — for years  … and you don’t see him getting all huffy and wanting to leave the country.”

“Mr. O, I ..,

“I told you to shut up! Look, I know that things have not been going well these last few years, but that’s no reason to run off with your cape between your legs.”

“I … I …I …”

“You know Supie, we’ve been covering for you for along time. All of us POTUSes have and a lot of other people too.”

“I don’t understand, Mr. President.”

“We’ve been good to you, buddy-boy. Real good.  We all have. First, nobody has ever really said anything about that cockamamie story of yours about coming to Earth in a rocket ship from another  planet, Krypton or wherever. No one has ever pressed you about it. Have they? That lamebrained story is just like that garbage they used to tell kids about where babies came from. Or that they were found in a cabbage patch. And not one person has ever bugged you about your damn birth certificate. Not one. Believe me you don’t want those birth-er idiots  on your ass. We’ve also been keeping that lame secret identity of yours …well, secret. All of the POTUSes knew that you were secretly Clark Kent. Heck, I always figured that those super powers of yours were the result of you getting some really whacked out steroids from Lex Luthor or somebody. I’ve never believed for one minute that …”

“All of the Presidents have known, Mr.O …?”

“Every last one of us, Supie … plus Monica Lewinsky. She was a big fan of yours. Said she used to read you in the comics all the time when she was a kid. That’s how she got Clinton into trouble in the first place.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Your boy, your hero, Slick Willie, was going to sell your secret identity on E-bay … was going to auction it right off to the highest bidder. But Monica talked Slick  out of it. She traded a blowj…”

“WHAT! Did she tell you this herself?”

“Hell no. I don’t go anywhere near that broad…er, Monica. I wouldn’t either if I were you. No, she told Michelle once. And quite naturally, Michelle told me. Bill Clinton. Your hero. Ha! There’s your global citizen for ya!  Global citizen, my ass…”

“But how the Presidents did know in the first place.”

“Lois Lane first told Lyndon Johnson when they were in bed together one night, years ago during the Great Society days.”


“I hate to be the one to tell you.”

“Well,  Lois has always been drawn to celebrities.”

“Well, Lois also slept  with Joe Dimaggio, Mickey Mantle, Johnny Unitas, Reggie Jackson, A-rod and Tiger Woods. At least that’s what the CIA reports on her say.”

“Tiger, too?   (sniff … sniff)”

“Dammit Superman, don’t you cry on me. Don’t you dare. Anyway, Tiger loves white women. And  no one has ever said one word about the fact that you wear a cape either. Do you know what they say about guys who wear capes, Superman? Remember what people used to say about Liberace? ”

“James Brown wore a cape sometimes.”

“Don’t you dare open your mouth about James. He was the hardest working man in show business. He could wear any damn thing that he wanted and get away with it. He was a HARD worker. Hard worker! You … you … you  hardly show up for work anywhere anymore.   You don’t show up for Gulf oil spills, not for earthquakes, not for plane crashes … nothing. We had to find bin Laden on our own, Supie.  Hell, you’ve done absolutely nothin’  about the price of oil. You get the price of oil down and I’ll respect you again. Sometimes I wondered why I even kept your telephone number. ‘Who needs a Superman, anyway, I’ve asked myself.’ ”

“I dunno, Mr. O. And could you stop thumping me on my chest? It hurts…”


“Your CIA dossier says that one of your problems is that your ‘friend’, Clark Kent is  afraid that he’s about to be downsized because Rupert Murdoch and Fox News just bought the Daily Planet and that they are turning it into a conservative rag. Is that one of your worries these days, Superman?”

“Quite frankly, sir, it is.”

“No worries, Supie.  No worries. All Clark has to do is dye his hair blonde. He should fit in just fine over at Fox. People do all kinds of things to make the kind of money they pay at Fox. Heck, I may dye my own hair blonde and go to work for Fox  myself once this POTUS gig is up, but don’t you dare tell anybody I said it. ‘Course, nobody’d  believe it anyway. Speaking of Fox, did you know that Juan Williams used to be a white guy before he went to Fox? Ol’ Juan paid for the racial re-assignment surgery out of his own pocket.  You think sexual re-assignment surgery is tough? You ain’t seen nothing until you see racial re-assignment surgery brother.”

“Sir, you’re kidding me aren’t you? I’ve never heard of racial re-assign…”

“And let’s face it, where else the hell else would you go besides America? With global warming –which you’ve also done absolutely nothing about by the way — the Arctic ice caps are melting like crazy. Your so called Fortress of Solitude is nothing more than a small igloo by now. I sure as heck don’t see you going back there.”

“I was thinking of being based in Paris.”

“PARIS?! PARIS!? Are you nuts? All Sarkozy will do is have you tail his wife, so you can tell him if she’s screwing around on him. What kind of job is that for a Superman? Might as well be on that dumb show, Cheaters. Nobody likes the damn French anyway. Besides, wait til I leak the secret to Sarkozy that the CIA thinks that you might secretly be a Muslim…that we once went to the same mosque, together.  Then you’ll really have problems buddy-boy. You think Americans whine? You ain’t heard whining until you’ve heard whining in French, baby.”

“Sir, you wouldn’t …”

“Just try me.  Bin Laden tried me and you see where it got him. I also know where there’s a secret stash of Kryptonite.”

“Sir, you wouldn’t …!”

“And don’t even think about going to work for that idiot, Donald Trump. All he’ll do is  make you change the “S” on your chest to a “T” and put you on the team with Star Jones, Dennis Rodman, LaToya Jackson  and Nene Leakes. Believe me, you don’t want that, even with super powers.   Listen,  Superman, I live in the same house with four women and even with Presidential powers, its tough.”

“Okay, Mr. President, I see your point. ”

“Good! I thought that you’d see it my way. But I want you to know that you’ve got some fence mending to do.  You’ve disappointed us these last few years . You have been largely unreliable. Yeah, I know that you’ve been busy making bad movies with Gene Hackman, Margo Kidder and a few others. But lately you haven’t been around when we’ve really needed you?

“Sir, I will try to do better about being around.”

“And if the Clark Kent thing at Fox doesn’t work, I may be able to get you a spot on JSOC Navy SEAL Team Six, if you can pass the physical . If that doesn’t work out, you can come over and relieve Biden of his babysitting duties on Saturday nights. Me and Michelle pay $7.25, minimum wage of course. Now, let’s have no more talk of you renouncing your citizenship, at least not while I’m POTUS.”

“Yes sir.”

“By the way, you wanna play on our basketball team tonight?

“Basketball, sir?”

We’re playing the Republicans. You’re a tall guy, almost as tall as  Snoop-Dogg. That’s why he’s here. To be honest, I can’t stand rap music and I really can’t really stand Snoop himself , but the guy is tall and he’s got a helluva 3-point jump shot. Wanna play with us? It’s me, Eric Holder, Snoop and a few other cats. Heck, I figure you to be the ultimate ringer.”

“Sir that wouldn’t be fair. But Clark Kent can play.”

“Don’t want Clark. I want you …in a basketball uniform, of course.”

“Why can’t Clark Kent play, sir.”

“Hell Supie, everybody knows that white men can’t jump.”

©Copyright 2011 Will Cantrell

Will Cantrell

Will Cantrell

Will Cantrell (a pseudonym) is a writer, storyteller, and explorer of the milieu of everyday life. An aging Baby Boomer, a Georgia Tech grad, and a retired banker, Cantrell regularly chronicles what he swears are 'mostly true'  'everyman' adventures. Of late, he's written about haircuts, computer viruses, Polar Vortexes, identity theft, ketchup, doppelgangers, bifocals, ‘Streetification’, cursive handwriting, planning his own funeral and other gnarly things that caused him to scratch his head in an increasingly more and more crazy-ass world.   As for Will himself, the legend is at an early age he wandered South, got lost, and like most other self-respecting males, was loathe to ask for directions. The best solution, young Will mused, “was just to stay put”. All these years later, he still hasn't found his way but remains  a son of the New South. He was recently sighted somewhere close to I-285, lost, bumfuzzled and mumbling something about “...writing' his way home.” Of course, there are a lot of folks who think that “Cantrell ain't wrapped too tight” but hope that he keeps writing about his adventures as he finds his way back to the main highway.