Supergrandpa

Let's say you had a superpower. Maybe you could fly. Would you fight crime? Work for world peace? This is Ira Glass, in a 30-second promo for a recent broadcast of "This American Life." If I could fly, says one respondent, the first thing I'd do is fly into a bar, check out what's going on there, fly back home, attach my baby to me, fly to a doctor's appointment at 11:30, and then I think I'd fly to Atlantic City.

The program reported the results from a thoroughly unscientific survey conducted by John Hodgman, who asked respondents what superpower they would choose if they could choose only one, flight or invisibility. In general, the men chose flight, the women invisibility. None would use his or her superpower to fight crime or to work for world peace. Of those who chose invisibility, many said they would exploit it for personal gain. They would steal merchandise from luxury stores or walk onto planes and ride for free. Of those who chose flight, most said they would use it for speedy transportation, like the young-sounding man quoted above.

I was surprised. Shouldn't at least a few have said they would use their power for the public good, even if they didn't mean it? But it's not so simple. One man said that, after all, he was being given the power of flight but not superhuman strength or a bullet-proof body. If he fought criminals, he might get hurt. As for world peace, invisibility or flight might be helpful but neither would be sufficient. One also needs supersmarts, a quality not included in Hodgman's offer.

Still, the program made me ask myself what superpower I would choose. Like all Hodgman's respondents, I didn't hesitate, as if I had been considering the matter for a long time. Unlike most of the men in the sample, I chose invisibility. I'm not sure what this says about my masculinity, but at my age, who cares? Actually, I think I chose invisibility because when I was a child I listened every Sunday to "The Shadow," a serial about Lamont Cranston, who years ago in the Orient learned a strange and mysterious secret: the hypnotic power to cloud men's minds so they cannot see him. Even now, 70 years later, I can recite by heart the show's weekly introduction. I'll bet Hodgman's respondents were too young to have heard it. If they had, how could they resist invisibility? Never mind. What would I do with my strange and mysterious secret?

Well, I wouldn't go to Triplers and rip off a suit or even a few shirts. Nor would I fly for free to Bali. Those actions would be wrong! Besides, I'd be afraid of being caught. Nor would I enter a room to hear what people say about me when they think I'm not there. My feelings are too easily bruised for that. No, influenced by Lamont Cranston, I'd do my best to fight crime. Not as brave as Cranston, though, I'd avoid the violent criminals and concentrate on the white-collar sort - embezzlers, Ponzi-scheme artists, insider traders, and the like.

My evidence would consist of criminals' voice recordings as they conducted their nefarious operations. How would I hide my tape recorder, which, unlike me, would be visible? Easy, I'd wear it around my neck. I can cloud men's minds so that they cannot see anything on my body. But wait. How will I know who is hatching an evil scheme? I suppose I could stand invisibly on the trading floor of a major bank and keep my ears open, but maybe there wouldn't be any criminals at that bank. Most workers are honest, after all. So then I'd have to stand on the trading floor of another bank. Sounds pretty inefficient to me. No, I'd need a confederate in the Police Department's white collar crime unit, a smart detective who would enlist my help in cracking cases.

Okay, now I'm ready to make New York safer for the honest investor and for the hopelessly gullible. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Supergrandpa knows.