I am forever preoccupied with female cartoon superheroes.  Always have been … always will be.  And not just superheroes either – it’s really any sort of femme fatale, larger-than-life heroine.  (Save for Xena, Warrior Princess.  Let’s face it — she was lame.)  

On Wednesday nights (circa 1977), I remember begging my folks to let me stay up and watch the trifecta of “Wonder Woman”, “Bionic Woman” and “Charlie’s Angels”.   After hours upon hours of pleading and groveling, my folks finally gave in.  Either that or they were woefully tired of their six year-old throwing a complete hissy fit.  

Every Wednesday was “Ladies Night” – and it was ON!  Oh sure, I would occasionally watch “The Incredible Hulk” or reruns of “Batman” – but I was ambivalent about those shows.  Although, I will admit “Batman” did reach its zenith in its final season with the introduction of Batgirl.

Once, at a comic convention that I was covering, I actually ran in to the original Batgirl, Yvonne Craig.  She was signing autographs and preening like a true diva.  She was also big enough to block out the sun.  More like Fatgirl, if you ask me.  But she politely signed an autograph that said, “To Michael, Best Bat Wishes, Yvonne Craig.”  Total price: $30.  Money well spent. 

I was always mesmerized by Lindsay Wagner.  So much so — I joined The Bionic Woman Fan Club.  Fan clubs were big back in the day – but my loyalty always lay with Jaime Summers.  I had the doll.  I had the board game.  I had the trading cards.  I had the lunchbox.  I had the comic books.  Wow — The Bionic Woman was quite the cottage industry, huh?

I remember the philosophical discussions I would have with my parents about whether or not Fembots were real.  My parents would quickly dismiss me and then retire to the kitchen to swill Manhattans.  Come to think of it … they drank a LOT on Wednesday nights.

My true claim to fame is that as a small child I would spend COUNTLESS hours spinning around and around in an unsuccessful attempt to turn in to Wonder Woman.  It never worked – despite spinning so hard I would nearly black out.  One time when I actually met Lynda Carter … I told her that story.  She motioned to come in close to her and gently whispered in my ear, “Bitch, you were spinning the wrong way.”

 Oh, if I had a nickel …