The mini-assembly of De Leon intellectuals were walking around lucky the other day.  Nary a one of us is a dues paying member of Mensa, but we collectively posses a heap of lore and learning to cover most of the spectrum of knowledge.

 After we’d addressed quantum physics and brain surgery we branched out and revived the adventures of Sheriff Andy, Deputy Barney, little Opie and Aunt Bea.  They, of course, were the stars of the Andy Griffith Show, Mayberry R.F.D.

Two bit players drifted into Mayberry during the run of the series—Goober and Gomer, and they served faithfully and well in the bucolic fabric of the show.

“That Gomer always made me laugh when he hollered ‘Shazam!’,” observed Bill.

“Me too,” I admitted, “it packs a lot more punch than my ‘Sacre Bleu’.”

“Sometimes I wonder what Shazam means,” Bill mused, and that’s when the luck of the group came to fruition.  They were fortunate to have me present.  Shazam held no mystery for me, and I am shameless when I share my meager learning to even a total stranger.  I had their undivided attention and rose to the occasion with charm and grace.

First off, Shazam is an acronym and one of the first I have knowledge of.  Times were so tough back in 1939 most of the acronym originators were digging post holes or fighting crab grass with a goose neck hoe.

Times were tough for young Billy Batson up in Fawcettville too.  He was homeless and an orphan who peddled newspapers at the mouth of an old abandoned subway station.  When both his parents passed away his uncle took charge of Billy and his inheritance, but being an evil sort he kept the inheritance and rooted Billy out.

On one rainy night Billy was still trying to sell enough papers to buy bread and water when a dark clothed figure came along and invited the boy to be his guest in the maw of that old subway.  A driverless subway train appeared and they got on and traveled to a secret lair in the bowels of the earth where the wizard, who had approached Billy, announced that he had a deal for him.

“My name is Shazam,” the wizard stated, “and I’ve selected you to be the strongest and mightiest champion for good.  You will be Captain Marvel, and you don’t even have to work up through the ranks.

“Say what?” Billy expostulated.  “I’m just a kid!”

“I am a wizard, and my name is Shazam,” the dark suited stranger announced.  “If you speak my name a bolt of lighting will ensue and you will be a man without living equal, and you’ll never know another hungry day.”

“Oh pshaw,” Billy responded.

“Call my name,” the wizard smiled.

“Shazam!” said Billy and a bolt of lighting morphed him into a muscular giant of a man in a red suit and a golden cape.  Naturally Billy was stricken aghast, and in his Captain Marvel voice he repeated the wizard’s name.  Viola, he was Billy Batson again.

“Horse feathers,” one of my audience said as he rose and headed for the door.  All, excepting Bill, exited along with him.  Of course my feelings were hurt, but Bill stayed with me.

“What’s the words in that acronym?” he asked.

“The acronym is SHAZAM!” I said.  “Each letter stands for an ingredient the ancients had endowed to pass along to the worthy recipient of Shazam’s choice.”

“What do the letters stand for?” Bill asked.

“Solomon (wisdom), Hercules (strength), Atlas (stamina), Zeus (power), Achilles (courage), and Mercury (speed),” I said.

Bill arose, and despite my invitation to stay and learn about the Superman lawsuit that put Captain Marvel in mothballs for several years, he prepared to leave.

“I’d love to hear it,” he said, “but I don’t want to overload my circuitry with too much wisdom today.  I’ll get back to you the first chance I get.”

That was over a month ago and I’ve not been able to corner him with the rest of the story.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063, my official postal address is: 333 W AYERS AVE – DE LEON TX 76444-2113, and you can e-mail chupp@charleschupp.com.