Genetically endowed with the rare klutz gene, gifted to him by his more talented klutzy Dad, KLUTZMAN is an identity I have grown into. It is not so much my secret identity as it is my everyday life.
Come with me now, as we journey through The Adventures of KLUTZMAN!
To get a fuller picture of my special powers, we must first go through some reruns of KLUTZBOY, the adventures of Klutzman when he was a boy!
I have eyes, but I cannot see
This tale has been told before, but all origin tales get retold once in a while.
So, it was the late 60’s. Batman was on TV. For young Jeffrey, who had yet to discover his true powers, I eagerly anticipated each new episode.
One fateful day, it happened.
Called from my room into the living room by the battle cry, “Batman’s coming on!”, I raced from my fortress of solitude (known to Mom as “that mess you call a room”).
Flying down the hall, using my uncanny speed, I made the turn just a hair late. Picture a Batman TV show sound effect hanging in the air…WHAM!
Colliding directly into the door jamb, I bounced back in pain and shock. Though the black eye was all I would outwardly show the world at that point, much more happened to me that day.
The collision activated my meta-gene and KLUTZBOY was born!
The aventures of Klutzboy were many. The Saga of the Sinking Muck (a Florida Keys tale). The Pickle that wasn’t There (a Golden Age Klutzboy adventure). The Case of the Bleeding Pen (from the Klutzboy Goes to School series).
But, surely it is my later adventures that truly provide the most entertainment…
My reach exceed my glass
Finally free of the educational system and in my own pad, it was time to graduate from boy to man. That also meant, I needed to up my game, if I were to truly assume the mantle of Klutzman!
Not wishing to squander my gift, I immediately set about to hone my skills. First up for me: pushing my hand through a sliding glass window in the kitchen. Who knew I possessed such strength?
The piece of glass lodged in my wrist was, I admit, a bit of a downer, but the recognition that I had taken a quantum leap in my klutziness consoled me.
I wear the small scar on that wrist proudly, battle scars from the early trials of Klutzman!
Double your fun (or, we do it right because we do it twice)
Much time passed and my klutz power seemed to be on the wane. Most of my adventures seemed to be of minor consequence. Burned arms. Stabbed and sliced fingers. Lobsterboy sunburns. I felt my claim to fame might not be long for the world.
And then, like a gift from the gods, a burst of new power!
Helping my brother-in-law move some heavy stuff from the kitchen in one of my sister’s many moves, I could feel my “Klutz-sense” (didn’t I tell you about that power? ah, another day, then) alerting me.
Sure enough, mere moments later, the double oven we were lugging from the house shifted in my hand…and went straight into that same wrist from years earlier!
Gifted, I tell you!
Knowing I once again held the title of Klutzman in good stead, I eventually managed to get the hand stitched up and return to my more or less drab life.
Since then, I have gone through a series of smaller Klutzman tales. More like 8-pagers or YouTube shorts, rather than full-length thrillers. Until…
I have eyes, but I cannot see, the sequel
Just a week ago, I rose from bed, more tired than made sense after 7 hours of sleep.
Not seeing a reason to open my eyes (22 years in the same home), I stumbled towards the bathroom…
…directly into the door jamb.
Boy, howdy, I was awake then!
This time, I bear a bloody gash on the head for my troubles. No black eye, thank you.
But a reminder of the power that lies within me. A power passed down from generation to generation (but not again, as there is no scion to gift it to).
It is a power that I possess and I alone. The power of KLUTZMAN!