On "Kung Fu Panda" and identifying your own superpowers

So I took my niece and nephew to see "Kung Fu Panda" the other weekend.

You gotta love a movie where the hero is overweight and affable - and where he gets his motivation during training from food.

Plus, Po the Panda reminded me of a couple of my friends - though they are not as heroic as he is, as far as I know. I mean, they could have secret lives, costumes and caves. One of them took martial arts lessons for awhile. But I don't think either of my buddies makes the kind of money it seems you need for that lifestyle.

The movie also reminded me of my own slothfulness as I once toyed with writing a story about a round, divorced accountant who lives with his young daughter who can turn himself into a human bowling ball. Hey, it's what a fat guy could do. He discovers his super power one night after visiting a Dairy Queen. Did the power come from a Blizzard? Who knows? Anyway, on the way home (he walks to Dairy Queen for exercise), he sees some thugs picking on, then rolling a chubby kid. He chases them down the trail, and at first he is winded. His anger builds when the punks call him a fat ass, so he continues the pursuit, trips on something, but instead of falling he rolls, then rolls, then rolls, gaining speed then bowling over the bad guys.

At first, like all heroes, he keeps his identity secret. But eventually his daughter finds out. At first she is embarrassed, because he dad isn't a hottie like the other superheroes, but porky. But she comes to accept him for what he is and becomes his sidekick, The Spare. He could be called 10 Pin. Or The Striker.

Kung Fu Panda also made me hungry for Chinese food - though there are fine Chinese places, there are no buns or noodle shops to be found near my suburb. Panda Express does not count.

I also wondered if I could parlay any of my talents into being the inspiration for a comic book, then a movie based on that comic book, preferably a Pixar picture.

Sometimes I feel invisible, but who doesn't? And other times people say I look like somebody they claim to know who isn't me. Not hard to believe, as beardless, I was just another overweight, balding middle aged suburban guy, and with the beard I look like every eighth guy you see at a baseball game or a bar. Sometimes people forget I was at an event with them. I could be Camouflage, or just Camo for short.

I can eat and drink really fast. This blog offers proof of my pie eating prowess. And last weekend I took two of three rounds in downing shots called Irish Car Bombs. That could make me Snarfer, but I am not exactly sure how that could help humanity, especially with a looming food shortage.

I am pretty good at making up rumors. One I wanted to spread: If elected, Hillary Clinton would have required men to be implanted with GPS chips upon being granted a wedding license. But this skill would just make me Karl Rove.

I did recently save the lives of my coworkers. A suit was giving an inspirational talk that went on for more than a half hour when I noticed the chafing dishes of food behind him were starting to smoke and boil over. No one else made a move, but as the boss man continued to inspire, I bravely walked behind him and put the lids back on the Sterno cans, slightly burning my thumb in the process, but ultimately preventing the building from burning - or at the very least the barbecue sauce from carmelizing.

Then there was the water cooler being broke for three weeks. Finally I took it upon myself to call the 800 number on the side of it to get the cooler fixed. Turns out we were waiting for corporate channels to be cleared.

And there was the time a guy in the office couldn't find a phone number so I Googled the name for him and found it on a white pages and a people finder site. Or the young woman whose phone didn't work for a month - I went in the back room, from the part of the building where they just laid off a half dozen folks, and swapped hers out with one of those recently orphaned.

Hmm, I could be Common Sense. But that's a name of a rapper. And, while common sense is indeed in short supply, I sometimes don't display much of said behavior, myself.

So I am still thinking. You do the same - what would your heroic power be?