Heroic Standard

How does one be heroic? Is it strength? Rippling biceps? Or is the leaps of faith you take in your life, all the while praying to the gods that the chances you take flip heads and not tails. Recently, I've been thinking of this ... the real connection of the heroes I admired as a kid, and the reality of the struggles of everyday life. What is it?

Is it the honor as a friend? Justice against those that do wrong against my friends? A stalwart guardian against the opposite forces of my family taking each other to the boxing ring and duking it out?

Heroism, not unlike cowardice, is bred upon an idea of justice. It takes courage to go against the sedentary normality of your life and take a chance. We, as human beings, don't want to get hurt. We wallow along as best we can, making the best of the rocks that we stumble across along the road, all the while hoping against hope that all our desires and dreams will just stumble upon our path through sheer chance, and the resulting conflict breeds into happiness.

Kids should not read fantasy novels, at least the reclusive youths that have no basis for manly behavior other than the books they happen upon at the bookstore.

I wonder if it's strength that drives me to do the things I do, and the actions I take each day. Today's society is full of a million Tiger Woods and Jesse James'. "Do what you can, as long as you can get away with it," I've heard time and time again.

If you see someone drop a dollar bill, would you simply pocket it or would you tap that man on the shoulder, give him a courteous nod, and give him back what is rightly his?