It is not an exaggeration to say that I have loved Superman all my life. In fact, Superman seems to go beyond my cognitive memory. He was always there and I have no recollection of learning about him, no more than most of us remember learning about a table or chair, but as a child, Superman was just as real to me as that table and chair.

Every Superman fan has a first Superman and George Reeves was mine. Yes, I'm an old fart. I was a kid in the 1960s and a teen in the early 1970s, but the Adventures of Superman debuted before I was born so I was thankful reruns existed even in the Stone Age of my childhood. I was glued to my TV set listening to the long harp glissando intro as the camera zoomed past unnamed planets and a comet exploded spelling out the title of the show.

Like the other kids in the neighborhood I wore a towel around my neck and "flew" across the front yard with my arms outstretched. Sometimes I'd stumble over one of my mom's rose bushes as a reminder that not only was I not flying, but I wasn't invulnerable either.

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