What if it was all true?

I came out of a daydreaming haze, usually reserved for 4th-graders with a window seat, wondering, "What if the things depicted in movies really happened"? Now, I don't mean the creations of the Morgan Spurlocks and Michael Moores of the world, but the stories that are supposedly set in our little corners.

What if it was all true? What would my daily life be like? Where would I live? Well...

I think New York would be a very interesting place to live - what with the likes of Batman, Spiderman and Superman patrolling the streets and skies. But who would want to live there? I know if the the Joker, Green Goblin and Lex Luther are trying to rule the world from MY neighborhood, I'm calling Remax and I'm on the first train outta Dodge.

But I wouldn't move into any place on Elm Street, USA, as there has been some psycho terrorizing that street for the better part of 20 years. And, by the way, I worked, played some golf, watched a little baseball and occasionally got together with family and friends - just in case you wanted to know what I did last summer. Now nobody has to call me and whisper to me that you know.

Every Friday, the 13th and Halloween, you will find me on a beach somewhere, as those places seem to be safe during those days of the year.

We will definitely need to pay a little more attention to our global hula hoop - as aliens who want to steal our resources or kidnap our elderly seem to think that our planet is the inter-galactic Studio 54. I guess we could just have the Enterprise, Stargate and Battlestar Galactica crews act as bouncers - let the aliens pick up those they left behind at the DMV or on the Brown line, and scram! No soup, or minerals, or humans for you!

I can't live in Kansas, since the storms are so powerful that they knock you so silly that you see green witches and flying monkeys. Or maybe acid rain has something to do with that.

I don't want to go to California - their governor is scary and seems a bit "robotic".

So, I guess I'll just pack up the family and jump into my Griswaldian family truckster and head off towards Iowa to watch a little dead-man baseball. I'll call Mr. Gecko to see if we can get together on a deal for orange juice futures from a tip I got from Louie Winthorpe and Billy Ray Valentine.

In the meantime, I'll make sure to stay away from anyone that looks like Tom Cruise, Nicholas Cage or Sir Anthony Hopkins. Nothing good can happen around them.