When Superman Needed A Vacation: The (Accidental) Birth Of Kryptonite

Sometimes the obvious answer isn’t acceptable. The path is blocked. The pipe is clogged.

Those are the cases when creativity becomes not just useful, but essential.

And, if you’re lucky, the creative solution might just be even better than the originally obvious answer.

Picture this: it’s the mid-1940s, and you’re suddenly famous for being on a radio show. And not just any radio show, it’s the Adventures of Superman, and you—or, your voice—is Superman.

But there’s one little problem.

You promised your wife and family a vacation. A real one. Away from the microphone and this job that up until recently wasn’t adding up to anything.

How do you put in that request for time off (and get it accepted)?

Forget what will the neighbors think, what will the sponsors say if Superman needs some sand and personal time?

For starters, you need a great producer.

Bob Maxwell, former pulp writer turned radio show producer, hears your request and goes back to the source material to see what he can come up with. He doesn’t want to lose your voice. Nor does he want to lose the opportunity to break some new ground.

In combing through Jerry Siegel’s original comics (Siegel co-created Superman with Joe Shuster), Maxwell finds a mention of a dangerous element called K-Metal.

Maxwell liked the sound of that. He could work with that. But first, it would need a better name.

Maxwell pitched his writers on the invention of a dangerous substance that would weaken but not kill the Man of Steel: Kryptonite.

And, since every good plot device needs a vessel, he decided they would need a new character to wield the weapon. Maxwell dug down and created the love-stricken fellow reporter, Jimmy Olsen.

The obvious answer of rejecting the actor’s request for vacation wouldn’t work.

Without the obstacle, there wouldn’t be a way to Kryptonite or Jimmy Olsen.

I hope it was paid time off.

I hope, even more, that the next obstacle you encounter gets an equally creative solution.

Because sometimes when the obvious path forward is blocked, we end up somewhere far more interesting (and memorable) than where we thought we were going.