Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I wanted to be the green ranger, over thirty years ago, when I was a kid. Before the Power Rangers became a permanent kid-pop fixture in the US, my brother and I tuned in faithfully to the original Go Rangers television series, during the time that our family lived in Japan.
We had already established sibling colors while living in California. I was green, and my brother was blue, which meant that I got the green Tupperware cup, the green toothbrush, etc. while all things blue were the property of Number Two Son. Anything red or pink were sister's possessions, and the baby brother's, yellow.
So, it was a natural progression to identify with the ranger of the corresponding and unofficially assigned color. My brother hero-worshipped the blue ranger, while the green ranger was my automatic role model.
The green ranger had a number five on the forehead of his mask, firmly establishing his bottom rung status in the Go Rangers hierarchy. This was okay. The green ranger was the strong, silent type, brooding, and even moody. This was an appropriate image of masculinity to me.
The Go Rangers rode motorcycles. I coveted the green ranger's motorcycle helmet that was being sold in Japan's toy stores, right before we moved back to the states. It wasn't the face-hiding mask helmet, but the helmet worn when he was still in his citizen/mere mortal state. I never did get the toy helmet, which I still regret to this day. Having and wearing the helmet would've helped me be like the cool, brooding, silent man that I had watched on T.V.
These days, when I am riding around on my scooter, I alternate between being Michelle Pfeiffer and Maxwell Caulfield in "Grease 2." Sometimes, I trade back and forth between Prince and Apollonia in "Purple Rain."
And yes, sometimes, I am the green ranger, a loner, silent, isolated, moody, aloof, and yet, oh so cool.