2390 Tweezerman

I had something interesting pluck at my attention recently.  It was a pair of tweezers.  Actually, it was the package the pair of tweezers came in, and it was its name that really got me.

Tweezerman. 

I guess I've read too many comic books, because for some reason Tweezerman sounded like one of the lesser superheroes.  You got your Superman at the top and your angst-ridden Spiderman.  Philanthropist slash acrobat slash tool inventor Batman, Wonder Woman, of course, and Iron Man. 

Then the second tier, with more limited super powers, like Aquaman.  If the Justice League has an ocean-related supercrime, or needs some really fresh lobsters, he's your guy.

Then towards the bottom you've got heroes like Leatherman.  He's got a harsh tan, skin like jerky and, like Batman, has a handy tool for every occasion.  And is locked in a continual battle for supremacy against his arch-nemesis Swiss Army Man.

Then there's the superhero that doesn't exist that I thought did.  When I first moved to the northwest I would read news stories in which a person was identified as what in my ignorance I read as "Taco-man."  He seemed to be all over the place.  I thought perhaps he was some local character like Blitz or the rainbow-haired fan guy.  Actually, he was neither.  He was just from Tacoma.  The newspapers were simply referring to a Tacoman. 

Better, for sure, than Tweezerman.  Enemy of untamed brow lines, socially objectionable protruding nostril hairs, fluttering like flags at every breath while you sit across the table from the person trying to eat lunch, and ear hair thick enough to mute a trombone.  

Tweezerman and his sidekick Plucky.  Out to shave the world.

Or at least make it look that way.

America, ya gotta love it.