Every superhero needs a lair

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!

The old adage not only encourages persistence and resilience but also reminds us that setbacks are part of the journey toward success.

According to his own records, Thomas Alva Edison failed nearly three thousand times before inventing a working design for an electric light bulb which could be commercially produced.

Had the American inventor and businessman given up, you just might be sitting at your kitchen table with a kerosene lamp to read this engaging column.

Harnessing the spirit of one of the world’s most famous entrepreneurs, this persistent stripling was determined not to let a minor setback – such as an accidental run-in with a gas-powered lawnmower that landed him in the emergency room – put a damper on building a private oasis in the garage attic.

It was time to pull out all the stops!

Immediately after returning to the church parsonage from Ellwood City Medical Center, still attempting to get to the center of a cherry-flavored Charms Blow Pop, I lightly tiptoed into my parents’ bedroom to make an emergency telephone call to Dirk Arkwright, hoping to enlist his knowledgeable expertise in making a figment of my imagination become a reality.

Bright and early the following morning after a delicious breakfast of bacon and dippy eggs with a side of buttered toast, I met the soon-to-be Riverside high schooler at the main entrance of our cinderblock outbuilding accompanied by his older stepbrother Allan McLaughlin, whom he wrangled into helping get this grandiose project off the ground.

You have two seasoned construction workers at your service.

“We never discussed payment over the phone,” reasoned the instigator-in-chief flashing a mischievous grin as he motioned for his counterpart to check out my response to the playful banter. “Since structural engineering isn’t my forte, my hourly rate will be far less than this ‘Carpentry Guru’; and for the record, he’s not in the habit of accepting hugs and kisses as payment.”

That’s so funny I forgot to laugh!

“I’d tread lightly around this prize fighter,” cautioned the muscle-bound handyman scratching at the stubble on his chin prior to glancing over at the half-dozen stitches above his left eye. “Considering this one appears to have gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, he might just take you behind the woodshed and beat you with a stick; so, you better mind your p’s and q’s.”

That lawnmower really did a number on your face.

If you don’t want to end up looking like me, you better heed your big brother’s advice and button up those lips with the sarcastic remarks.

Shortly after finishing up our spirited conversation, the good-natured teenagers quickly unloaded a wide array of supplies – power saws, sheetrock, and a couple gallons of blue paint, as well as a hard hat and a pair of safety goggles for yours truly – which would undoubtedly transform the two-car garage’s attic space into one of the best hideouts in northwestern Pennsylvania.

Promise me that you’re going to wear these around the job site.

Pinky swear!

By the time lunch rolled around several hours later, the industrious stepbrothers had the framing completed for the floor, knee walls, back wall and one funky trap door, as well as hoisted up a half dozen four by eight-foot sections from my original clubhouse to complete the subfloor; and they did all this while I was seated on a comfortable perch next to the corner workbench observing their meticulous handiwork overhead.

The makeshift lumber yard inside the cinderblock garage was nearly gone.

You’ll get to come upstairs after we feed our stomachs.

How does lunch at Johnny’s Pizza sound?

Let me go ask my mother.

Don’t dilly-dally, because we’ll be waiting in the truck.

Upon returning from one of the more popular sit-down restaurants within the borders of the mid-size industrial city north of Pittsburgh, we entered the semi-finished attic area through a new entrance – a set of steps to the sturdy worktable where the painter’s ladder came up through a hinged trap door which could be closed – to complete the secluded retreat.

You’re going to use a hammer and nails to secure the twelve by sixteen-foot subfloor.

“We need to play it safe,” suggested Dirk with a concerned look splashed across his face while shaking an automatic device in his hand. “While this nail gun might get the job done a lot faster, I’m not willing to risk you accidentally nailing your hand to the floor; because we don’t have time for anymore unexpected trips to the emergency room.”

Besides, I have a feeling the hospital knows you by name.

How did you know that?

Let’s call it an educated guess!

While my self-appointed guardian angel pitched in to help tack down the sheets of plywood to the newly fortified floor joists, the experienced electrician used the solitary pull-string light to wire the spacious new room with two outlets on either knee wall which would enable me to brighten up the space at night with a few plug-in lamps.

However, the open barn door would let in plenty of natural light during the course of the day.

Once my elevated fortress was fully wired with some righteous low-voltage electricity, the brawny adolescents boosted several sheets of drywall through the barn door on the backside of the two-car garage before using it to cover the knee walls, rafters and collar ties – as well as the studs on the back wall – to finish off the completed product.

“This place is out of sight,” proclaimed the rising freshman raising his arms to the ceiling upon looking around at their extraordinary accomplishment. “After we splash on some paint and throw down a carpet remnant, you’ll be ready to move in some furniture; but before we do all that, I think we need to break this place in by having an epic sleepover.”

You don’t have to tell me twice!

Are you going to participate in this once-in-a-lifetime event?

“Heck yeah,” quipped the 19-year-old with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice when tousling my brown locks with a calloused hand. “After putting a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this one-of-a-kind project, I’ll be the first one up here with a sleeping bag to christen your brand new clubhouse; because I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”