Light flashes down on the dark streets below. A silent bank erupts with thunder from a sudden explosion. A dark enforcer appears from out of the shadows to vanquish the bank robbers.

This may sound similar to the 2008 blockbuster Batman epic, The Dark Knight, but this scene actually predates Christopher Nolan’s film.

This is the opening scene of “Batman: The Animated Series,” a television show from my childhood.

Even though I watched this as a kid, it still amazes me to this day. Every Saturday morning was like an explosion of excitement for me when this show came on my living room television. The other shows on the Fox Network failed to compare to the quick action, interesting characters and deep plots of this Batman epic. Sometimes as a kid these plots weren’t always clear, but, when I watched, I knew it was something good.

Batman was an amazing character that I couldn’t get enough of –I was obsessed. I would collect everything Batman and place it all over my room as if some bizarre form of hero worship engulfed me. This definitely wasn’t my dad’s Batman from the ’60s. This was my Batman, a darker, cooler and more motivated character.

The other characters always kept it entertaining as well. It was never good versus evil in my mind. The city of Gotham was a character in itself and the show wasn’t just the background, it was the harvester for these characters and most of their psychotic ways.

Always fascinated, I would sit up close to the television with the amazing music and dialogue blasting at my still maturing ears. I love this show, but it might be why I wear glasses and ask people to repeat themselves all the time.

This show told me to push limits. Batman didn’t have superpowers. He was a man just like I was growing up to be. He gained his amazing power by making himself the best man he could be in every way, pushing his limits with every episode. I could relate to his feelings and struggles in my own unique way as a kid.

These characters opened my eyes to all new emotions and motives. I learned how someone could choose to help others or choose to hurt others. This wasn’t just a television show for me. This was a phenomenon that gave me great entertainment and moral inspiration for life.

Windmills of My Mind is a column written by a different contributor every week on memories about a film, book, play, song or piece of art. Interested in writing one? E-mail the editor at [email protected].