In the 1990’s, I was a lawyer at a firm in San Francisco. On Halloween, we had a special “costume day” lunch in the conference room where everyone dressed up.
One person wore a Scottish kilt. Someone wore funny plastic teeth. A woman wore a witch hat.
But while everyone chatted politely in our 16th floor conference room, a man in a child’s Power Ranger costume was running circles around the building.
For those of you who don’t remember the skin-tight suits that were the Power Rangers, here is a reminder:
Because the costume was designed to be tight on a 12-year-old, it was extra tight on a 30-year-old. And it didn’t have a helmet, which meant that the man’s head was exposed for all to see.
But that didn’t stop him.
Neither did the annoyed San Francisco businessmen in the city’s financial district, who stared with disdain.
But even those who tolerated this visual nuisance were pushed beyond their limit when the man began yelling his superhero credo:
“I WILL SAVE THE WORLD! I WILL SAVE THE WORLD!”
Three times the man circled the building, and three times he yelled his credo.
I would say that the man was embarrassed by the spectacle he created that day, but I know that he was not.
I know because he was me.
Me enjoying costume day.
The last one the firm would ever have.