Jody Lynn Nye - Theme Music Man

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Theme Music Men

Jody Lynn Nye

Simple logistics would suggest that not every hero gets

to move mountains, run at hyper-speeds, or deflect

bullets from a chiseled chin. Someone has to provide

support services to make heroes look heroic.

The loan officer gazed with open disapproval at the man on the

other side of his opulent walnut desk.

"Now, as for your employment?"

"I have two jobs, really," Irwin Katzenbaum said, shifting

uncomfortably. "I work for Polyphonic Studios in the audio

recording department. I'm a senior technician, I've been there for

eight years."

"Good, good," Mr. Gruber said. "And salary?" Katzenbaum told

him. "… All right… You say you have another job as well?"

"Yeah, but it's not very income-producing most of the time,"

Katzenbaum said.

"We need it for the application," the loan officer said, silting back

with the smug expression that said he had all the time in the world,

Katzenbaum had already pegged him as one of those bureaucrats

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Jody Lynn Nye - Theme Music Man

who enjoyed wielding their petty power against people who couldn't

defend themselves.

Katzenbaum muttered, almost under his breath, "I'm Theme Music

Man."

The banker leaned forward, "Say again?"

Irwin gave up. "I'm Theme Music Man," he repeated more clearly.

"Really?" Gruber asked, with real interest. "Well!… Well, we get a

lot of people in here claiming to be petty superheroes. Would you

mind demonstrating your talent? Um… make up a theme for me."

Irwin gulped. He knew what the music would sound like for this

odious man: the saccharine violins that they always played in the

silent films when the evil banker foreclosed on the house and flung

the family out into the snow to freeze. Unwittingly, the music rose

about him. It set his teeth on edge, even as it made him want to cry.

Other people in the bank turned, to stare at them. Katzenbaum

fought to contain his talent, and the misery song died away. Gruber

looked dismayed and annoyed. Katzenbaum hurried to reassure

him. He needed that loan.

"I've been sick with flu the last few days," he said. "Everything

sounds like that."

"Oh." The banker nodded, unsatisfied.

"About the loan?"

"Well, we'll need a few days to consider it, check your credit

references, you understand." Katzenbaum didn't understand, but he

nodded. The banker rose and offered him a hand. "We'll call you."

"Thanks," Irwin said, and hastily left the bank. He could feel the

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Jody Lynn Nye - Theme Music Man

misery song threatening to well up and drown out the Muzak in the

beige marble lobby. He didn't want to whine that he needed a lousy

three thousand bucks to buy a functional used car or lose the

possibility of promotion to traveling sound crew. Superheroes didn't

blubber on bankers' desks. Even marginally employed ones who

really felt like crying.

Theme Music Man. No one outside the big city knew he existed, but

they always suspected something like him did. Whenever a

superhero charged into action on television or in the movies, it was

to the accompaniment of heroic music that stirred the blood, made

viewers catch their breath in awe, fear, and amazement. So where

was it coming from?

If the cameras panned a little to the side of the main event, they'd

show a modest, medium-sized man in a sort of modified

bandleader's uniform. It was coming from him. Music seemed to

burst from him spontaneously: the French horns, the kettle drums,

the bassoons and trombones. He was Theme Music Man.

It all started when he was a kid. He thought he was like one of those

people who wrote to the advice columns asking if they were crazy

because they always heard music in their heads. The difference was

that when it happened to Irwin Katzenbaum, everyone else could

hear it, too. He used to get in trouble in school for making noise.

The teachers kept sending him to the principal's office until they

were convinced he didn't have a concealed radio or tape player.

Then they just thought he was a freak.

Not until he fell in with a few of the real superheroes did he manage

to find a peer group. It started in his teen years in Boston, when the

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Jody Lynn Nye - Theme Music Man

street he was walking down turned into a shooting gallery. Ten

mugs in panty-hose hoods were firing guns at a lone man wearing

an immaculate white gi and black hakama trousers. Irwin

recognized him at once as Kickfighter, Boston's pride and joy. How

he eluded the hail of bullets and whirled in to knock out each man

in turn, Irwin could never say later. He just watched with everyone

else, dumbfounded.

When it was all over, the news crew summoned to the scene

surrounded Kickfighter—and Irwin, who had been generating

sweeping, daring musical phrases with an Oriental flair throughout

the whole confrontation. Under the red domino mask, the Japanese-

American superhero turned out to be a nice guy. He took Irwin

under his wing, helped him train his talent, taught him what he was

doing and how to control it… somewhat. The two of them ran

together in Boston for three years, on adventures that came up after

school hours, until Irwin graduated. Kickfighter was strict about not

interrupting school, even when Irwin complained about missing all

the good parts. Then Kickfighter insisted Irwin go on to college and

get a decent education. Irwin was reluctant. He'd never have a more

appreciative audience, but Kickfighter was adamant. Irwin went.

Naturally, he majored in music.

After college, he moved to New York and got a part-time job in

Polyphonic's tape library. His essays into crimenghting were a lot

more frequent in New York. With an introduction from Kickfighter,

Irwin started running with the superheroes he'd heard of all his life.

He affected a costume that suited his talent: white tunic trimmed

with gold braid, peck-measure cap, white spandex stirrup pants, and

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