Eight years ago, I had a severe adverse reaction to the antibiotic Levaquin. I experienced micro-tears in both of my Achilles tendons and widespread joint and tendon pain. The physical pain lasted a good four to five years, but the emotional repercussions lasted longer. As someone who copes with life’s stresses through exercise and as a has-been athlete who loves the endorphin chase, the ordeal was both physically and mentally crippling. Why couldn’t I have been Wonder Woman?
Before now, I would have said, I “suffered” a reaction, but I am tired of being a victim. It’s time to move on and let Levaquin go. I’ve felt that part of this moving on would entail meeting a fellow “victim” in person whom I met on a Yahoo message board in 2005. Her name is Sally. She’s in her 60’s and she is a professional clown in Connecticut.
I got my chance to meet Sally a couple Sundays ago. I
arranged to meet her on a Sunday because she clowns on most Saturdays. I had never been to Connecticut, so I wanted
to make an adventure out of my entire weekend. The stars did a great job
helping me.
I stayed at a charming bed and breakfast in Mystic,
Connecticut where the 1988 Julia Roberts movie “Mystic Pizza” was filmed. The changing leaves, the autumn sun and the
ripples of the Connecticut sea were like a movie backdrop indeed. I needed to
do laundry Saturday morning, so I headed to a laundromat located in a quaint shopping
village nearby.
The only chain store I noticed was a Dunkin Donuts. With my recent
super hero strength, I continued to resist the pull of this New England
temptress. After loading the washers, I wandered the shops. I bought a Boston
Red Sox cap because being immersed in the World Series fanfare has transformed
me into a fan of their red, white and blue.
I stumbled upon the Mystic Visitor Center, so I stopped in
for ideas for the rest of my day. While looking over the brochures, I noticed a
few for area casinos. I love black jack and craps, but I have never gone to a
casino alone. That seemed weird. I left with a variety of leaflets to scan while
my clothes spun.
After reading about the swanky Mohegan Sun Casino, I decided
to surf Facebook and Twitter on my phone. As I scrolled along, I noticed a
tweet from Lynda Carter. I should not have to add here that she is the actress
who played Wonder Woman in the 1970’s TV show.
She is my childhood idol who now spends her time with cameo acting
appearances, campaigning for human rights and concert engagements. I about fell out of the white plastic laundromat
chair as I read Lynda’s words:
“What a great night in NYC! Thanks to everyone who came out
for the show last night. We had a blast. On to Mohegan Sun!”
Are you kidding me? Lynda Carter. Wonder Woman. Performing
in concert less than 20 minutes from me. My jaw dropped in wonder and I knew I
better get over the weirdness of going out alone.
“Wonder Woman” aired for three seasons starting when I was
four. I was positive that I was going to grow up and be just like her. I never
got my lasso and bracelets but those volleyball shorts came quite close to hers.
And speaking of volleyball, fortunately
I also never acquired a Wonder Woman-esque figure because diving on the gym
floor like I did would have been impossible. I went to the concert and wound up at a table with some ladies my age who also grew up wearing Wonder Woman underroos, lassoing their family pets and wearing tin foil bracelets. There wasn’t a rush of the stage, but we maturely meandered closer for Lynda’s finale. I was ten feet from Wonder Woman!
My friends have inundated me with questions. Did you meet
her? Did you get a picture with her? Did she sign your Wonder Woman Converse
sneakers? No, no and no! People, I don’t want to meet Lynda Carter. Are you
crazy? I don’t want to give her a chance
to disappoint me. What if she is dismissive or flighty? What if she is rude?
What if she is… human?
I am surrounded by enough human in my everyday life. I have
enough human of my own. I don’t need to know that Wonder Woman is human, too.
Maintaining her image of perfection continues to give me something to believe
in and aspire to. I know I could never embody all that Lynda Carter has in my
youthful mind, but it’s fun to dream. I’ll always be at least ten feet from
Wonder Woman. 
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