Lessons learned about life from Star Wars even before I saw Star Wars (64/100)
One of my earliest memories is visiting my Uncle Tim and cousins Chris and Michael. I think I was three or four and nervous to be playing with my older cousins, the giants. Chris was five years older than me and Michael, three. They both had a good foot or two over me with their father’s pronounced jawline as they stood to greet us. Chris took after his dad and was the soldering type, holding his hands behind his back as he waited, while Michael was more aloof with an afterthought of being like his older brother. After spending time with Chris, I decided that I too should stand at attention when I met people. This wouldn’t last a long time but I remember grown up making comments about how impressed they were with the way I stood. From Michael, I learned what it meant to be bottled up.
Chris and Michael excitedly asked my parents if I could go play Star Wars with them. I had no idea what that was but I looked up at my dad with hope that I would be allowed to play with the big kids. My preference was to play with the older kids or adults.
In their basement, I was introduced to a slew of toys I had no frame of reference for. They played with Han, Luke and Chewie while I made Wicket prance around as they fought, asking for hugs. Chris and Michael acted out scenes from Return of the Jedi, a movie they had already seen multiple times and which I was oblivious. I was off in my own world, enjoying the idea of Wicket, the furry creature who was adorable, playing and having fun. I remember that they teased me about wanting to play with the Ewok as they clung to the manly warrior figures. Han shot a blaster, Chewie used a bowcaster and Luke swung a laser sword. Wicket pranced.
On our way home I wouldn’t stop talking about Star Wars and the Ewok figures. They were furry creatures, man. When we got home my parents bought me Logray (or Teebo), probably from a garage sale. I picked the figure out from a bowl of other figures, most with missing accessories. I picked up Logray (or Teebo) and decided this was the kind of warrior creature I could get behind. One that wasn’t against prancing AND fighting with a primitive axe.
Eventually we rented A New Hope and Return of the Jedi from Dave’s Video down by where North Point Shopping Center is now, when I was seven or eight. By then my parents believed I was mature enough to handle the action without wanting immediately to act it out, possibly injuring my younger sister or making her cry. This probably didn’t stop me from acting out the action and possibly injuring but definitely making my sister cry.
I remember checking out Return of the Jedi, my favorite of the Star Wars movies until fairly recently, from the library before the renovations and watching it over and over when I was late in my middle school career. I especially liked that there were boobs, something I neglected to noticed when I was younger but would now be the focus of all pausing of the movie.
My dad and I went to see the rereleases when I was in high school in the theater. I had talked with the guys from the comic shop across from my high school about the rereleases and my excitement. They told me a bunch of stuff was added and I was wary. I told him about this as he leaned back uncomfortably in his seat, the chair making an indicative creaking sound, and he told me that we would still enjoy it. I nodded. The lights went out. The crawl began. I wanted desperately to prance and act out the scenes, but sat calmly until after the lights were up and I motormouthed for the next hour, hour and a half. My dad listened, asking me to calm down several times. It was hard to contain my excitement. “This is why I prefer to watch the Star Trek movies in the theater. A lot less craziness,” he told me but I was too busy thinking about Wicket, Chewie and Logray (or Teebo) getting into misadventures.
