Of Captains and Courage and Comics.

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My daughters, together again last night, managed to twist my arm for a late viewing of Captain Marvel. How can I not, I grew up with Marvel Comics. The film versions were so animating the still frames of my youth became so real. My bedtime had to take the consequences later, though I am hoping not. Anyway, of course, this latest Marvel installment is highly recommended, the making of the super hero character is a story no one wants to miss. Plus, this is the tribute to comics great Stan Lee. Am grateful, really. This morning though, on the early drive to the hospital, my daughter asked why Thor never met Captain Marvel. Wow, I responded, you have to consult the Stan Lee files for that. I proceeded to talk about another captain, from Rudyard Kipling's Captains Courageous, a 1996 film adaptation which was recently uploaded on netflix. Quietly, I narrated the sad adventure of a young spoiled brat at sea, with fisherfolks for company, the rich lad's baptism of fire, the God-given moment when he turned into a man. My daughter was all so quiet and pensive and before we knew it, we were at the hospital lobby, and she nodded - of captains and courage. Aye! Aye!