Snipitz - Of an Identity Crisis

He was just a simple man, unassuming and normal. 

Never standing out.

Never the ladies man. 

Adorned in slacks, sensible shoes, 

With dress shirt and tie. 

Black rimmed glasses perched on his nose,

Quietly he did his job. 

Yet, somewhere underneath it all there lie something different, 

No, make that SOMEONE different. 

All he needed was the call of someone in need, someone that needed him to come and save the day. 

Then quickly he would run to the closest phone booth, 

Remove the black-rimmed glasses that so expertly hid his identity

Pull apart his quickly unbuttoned dress shirt only to reveal the large “S” on his chest. 

Ok lets stop right here and ponder something…

With the advent of cell phones, phone booths are now a thing of the past, so where 

Would he run?

Is he going to do his quick change, superhero thing in the nearest Starbucks!

“yes, I am going to change into the man of steel and I will take a Venti White Chocolate Mocha with an extra shot of espresso to go please”

Oh wait, that’s me….silly Dale

Superman would quickly respond to the call for help and fly off to do some great acts of good…

Then back to Clark Kent, 

A superhero totally disguised with just the addition of one thing…

Black Rimmed glasses. 

Apparently, people in comic books must have needed glasses even more than he did just so they could tell that Clark and Superman were one and the same.

Oh those silly residents of Metropolis. Silly and completely BLIND residents!

How could those glasses possibly have been such a simple disguise of the real man!

 I have pondered that fact for most of my 57 years on good old planet earth. 

Until just a couple weeks ago, 

My 3-year-old grand daughter was over at my house and she sat and looked at me as I got out my laptop to do a little work. 

Reaching over I grabbed my reading glasses, 

A pair of BLACK  RIMMED reading glasses. 

At once I hear this little voice, so loud and so happily proclaim 

Oh Look its UNCLE BUSTER! 

Looking at the front door, I fully expected some long lost, before now unknown about relative coming in…

But that was NOT to be, instead she was looking right…. at….


What? I said.

“its our good friend Uncle Buster here to visit us, He is such a nice guy”

The room was stunned into silence, 

I removed my glasses only to hear her say, 

“Oh, look Pop Pop is back.”

I put them on….”Uncle Buster” she says…

I think I know how Clark Kent feels, 

The whole room burst out in uncontrollable laughter. 

When her mom came over to pick the girls up a couple days later I told her to “watch this” and put by glasses on my nose once again…

“look mom its Uncle Buster!”

Her mom and dad erupted in full, belly jiggling laughter that would have rivaled Santa’s bowl full of Jelly laughter.

Now let me take a moment here and let you know…

THERE IS NO UNCLE BUSTER on any side of any family related to us, I don’t have any friends named Buster. 

And yet according to my granddaughter I am indeed the nice man known to only a few as …


I wonder if I have any super powers….hmmmmm

What is my Costume supposed to be?

Am I to have a giant UB on a pair of spandex inspired leotards?

Or do I get the Batman inspired mask and Kevlar black suit?

Soooo many possibilities and so little time. 

Although I have always wanted to slide down the Bat Pole. 

Can I fly? Nope

Can I run very very fast? I’m in my 50’s any thought of running fast have long since come and gone. 

Am I a billionaire that is going to make fancy gadgets, and fight crime?  (I hope you can hear the laughter from wherever you are at.)

Nope, I am just me, more like Underdogs alter ego, Shoeshine Boy.  

You remember, “not bird, nor plane, nor even frog…its just little old me…


I am ok with that, I am ok with just being me. 

I am ok with teaching my grandkids about God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. 

Helping them to discover things like music, singing or playing guitar. 

Maybe I can teach them photography or even 

To throw a Golf Disc…

God sent his only son to us, here on earth, in the form of a child born in a manger. 

Boy, talk about your Identity crisis…

And yet inside him was the ultimate super hero, 

Someone to take upon him all the sins of all the people of the world, 

Someone that would wipe our slate clean….

And give us the promise of eternal life. 

His cape was swaddling clothing, His cave was a manger and yet He was the one sent to us to SAVE us. 

Each of us, no matter who we are, can be a Super Hero to someone

Our kids, co-workers, spouse or even a friend. 

And the cool part is we don’t even need to have an alter ego to do it. 

We just have to know who we are as God’s child and then be the best we can at it…

That’s all, plain and simple. 

When I graduated from College I thought I knew who I was, I thought I was going to be the best broadcaster on radio


The moment they called out my “name” at my graduation I should have known that wasn’t going to work. 

I got my undergrad degree in a small liberal arts college in Missouri, My graduating class was only 53 on the home campus. I had been here all 4 years and knew the Vice-President of the college very well.

We even handed her our names and our degree on a typed 3X5 card

Dale Sharp, Bachelor of Arts Communications

And yet,

When she called out my name in front of friends and family I became 


And there goes my identity right down the Dwayne…

On a post note follow up, my granddaughter was sitting on my lap the other day, I put on my Clark Kent’s and I was immediately Uncle Buster,

But then she asked to put them on as well.

So she did…

I asked her “and who are you?”

Thinking for only a second she smiled and proclaimed…





K Reynolds @kreynolds ·

I love! Thanks for sharing the laughter. :mrgreen:

Do not include honorifics.

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