The Legend Continues

Steely-eyed Super Hero Unmasked

Alpine, OR. (UPI) Word spread slowly through this small, rural community, that the riddle may have finally been solved.

For years, a unidentified masked man has worked tirelessly, fighting a one-man campaign against the forces of evil, all while offering a shimmering ray of hope to those with whom he interacts.

Cats have been saved—property returned—scathing lectures on virtue delivered—all by the man known only as Commander Alpine.

His distinctive disguise has driven a stake of fear into the heart of those who would stray from the path of righteous, just as it inspires those who seek truth, justice and the American way.

He’s also known to be a killer air guitarist.

Women of all ages swoon, and babies smile in his presence, and he is adored by small children and stray dogs, and complete strangers.

Long-time Alpine resident Earl ‘Gip’ Boone, owner of the stop sign, commented, “At first, I 'spected it might be me, but, some of the stuff I heared tell of, ain’t no way I could do it. No sir, I'm purt near sure it ain’t me.”

Rumors of the revealed identity emerged slowly last week, when a note was posted to the door of the Alpine Tavern. The note simply said, “Adam, your new Super Hero-Commander Alpine disguise is back-ordered. I sewed the old one. Love you, Punkin’ Boy, Mom.”

An exhaustive search of the area revealed over two dozen persons (remarkably, all female) who were known to use the name “Mom” as an alias.

Larry “Pudge” Smather, owner of a tri-colored Ford F150, and a three legged dog, observed, “We done reversed our logic, and started looking for someone named, ‘Adam.’ Sure as dog snot’s sticky, we found one. Handsome young feller, from right-damn-here in Alpine. Who’da thunk it? I hear tell he was a killer high school athlete, a spiffy dancer and continues to be a Sensitive New Age Guy (SNAG).

In keeping with his humble, yet ever-so-dazzling reputation, Adam was unavailable for comment. We are able to confirm reports which indicate an exact duplicate of the Commander Alpine crime fighting uniform, was, in fact, seen wafting on the gentle, afternoon breeze, on the back yard clothesline of his Mom’s house.

Yes, Buckaroos, the legend continues.