Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a staircase!

I don’t often have “oh yeah, I’m definitely an adult now” moments. I’m the first to admit my growing-up was and remains pretty stunted. I still love most of the things I loved ten years ago – Harry Potter, Cartoon Network, coloring books, video games, emo bands. I don’t like making doctor’s appointments or sending professional e-mails. Every so often, though, I have a thought or experience that reminds me that I’ve matured.

This particular “holy shit, I’m a grownup” epiphany happened while binge-watching season 2 of the excellent Netflix series Daredevil this past weekend.

*Author’s note: I’ll try not to venture too far beyond the basic plot of Daredevil, and there won’t be any discussion of the end of season 2 (mostly because I’ve yet to finish the last episode) but warning to those who’d want it: here be spoilers.

The vigor with which the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen attempts to become the Martyr of Manhattan increased exponentially from the first season to the current one. And I was downright annoyed by it. Matt’s intensity and willingness to cast asunder anything and anyone who dared to question his plight to rid the city of evildoers became so irritating to me that around episode 7 I began rolling my eyes whenever he donned the Daredevil dress. Sure, he gets the job done. The thugs get the shit kicked out of them. But tangles with the Catholic crimefighter more often than not result in physical pain for precious Matty and emotional pain for everyone who loves him.

Moreover, I found myself identifying much more strongly with characters like Claire Temple, an ER nurse just trying to Do Her Damn Job when Matt Murdock stumbles into her life cut and bruised after a night of vigilante justice, and Franklin “Foggy” Nelson, just trying to Do His Damn Job as half of the Nelson and Murdock law firm when Matt stumbles into the office cut and bruised after a night of vigilante justice (and he steals my heart in the process. FOGGY YOU ARE MY SON AND ALSO MY HUSBAND AND I KNOW THAT’S CREEPY BUT IT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN FULLY EXPRESS MY LOVE).

Notice a pattern here? Because I did, and since there’s nothing I love more than introspection and over-analysis, I started going through my shows and finding the Foggies and Claires of their worlds. And I love them all too.

A few of my personal favorites:

• Walter Skinner, The X-Files. Scully seems the obvious choice, but although she starts out as the one meant to play this role, she doesn’t stay that way. Skinner is the king of Just Doing His Damn Job. I’m ripping my opinion off this tumblr post, but it’s true. Skinner is a Vietnam War veteran and a seasoned employee of the FBI, and his main job throughout the series is to clean up whatever bullshit Mulder and Scully throw at him. Regardless of whether or not he buys into the “everything is aliens” racket, AD Skinner constantly has to defend his two favorite agents to whoever questions them, and he begrudgingly does so.
• Mr. Frond, Bob’s Burgers. I don’t envy any school counselor, fictional or otherwise, but I feel especially empathetic toward Mr. Frond. He presumably worked very hard in school and earned his master’s degree in order to be hired as the counselor at Wagstaff. He’s probably got student loans that he can’t fully pay off living on a teacher’s salary. He wants to help these children. And what does he get for Doing His Damn Job? The wacky antics of the Belcher children, particularly Louise.
• Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Star Trek: TOS. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the lovely Bones. In my opinion, he’s the originator of just trying to Do His Damn Job. Putting up with James Tiberius Kirk and the general havoc that is the starship Enterprise can’t be easy. Dammit, Jim, he’s a doctor, not a [insert literally anything else here]!

Characters like Foggy and Claire and Skinner and Frond and Bones are us. The normal people. The ones forced (to use an already tired meme) to Keep Calm and Carry On. They’re not the main character of the story, and they know it, but they’re the main character of their story, which, if they can help it, doesn’t end in fiery death. And now, as an adult whose primary objective is also to Do Her Damn Job, I love that about them.

It’s not that I don’t respect and admire vigilante justice as it’s portrayed in comic books and their respective film companions. It’s inspiring, especially as a kid, to see heroes kick ass and take names. I was lucky enough to avoid being bullied in school, but I’m sure anyone who’s been shoved into a locker or given an Atomic Wedgie can attest that evil can’t always be defeated by wit and intelligence. Sometimes bad guys need a beatdown from a hot blind guy in a horned helmet.

But as I’ve gotten older and moved out of the good-vs-evil stage of my life, I’ve started to find the side characters much more compelling and entertaining. These characters aren’t exactly what I’d call the “straight man” of their respective universes. They’re willing to participate in the craziness and even add to it sometimes, but when you get down to it, they’re just trying to live their lives alongside their extraordinary friends.They didn’t ask for any of this.

Not enough praise is given to those who hold down the fort while the evil gets defeated. So here’s to you, Regular Secondary Characters. From all of us normal people who also just have to Do Our Damn Jobs. May your homes never be destroyed by giant monsters, may your ass never be kicked by a drug kingpin’s goon, may you get to finish your work safely and in a timely fashion, and may you always get your one shining moment where you, not your Superfriend, get to save the day.