The Force, Nostalgia, And Boners.

     So, Thursday, the Internets exploded in a great big ball of awesomeness:

Because this shit, right here.

     I was actually on set shooting a series of videos when the teaser dropped. And the entire production came to a screeching halt, while we all gathered around a laptop to watch. Everybody turned into a kid for two minutes. And, just like my younger self, when it was over I immediately began to wonder if anybody was going to notice my boner.

     In the spring/summer of 1977, I was ten. My folks were still married, my dad was still alive, and my cousin Steve and I hatched a brilliant scheme. We told our folks that we wanted to go to Greenspoint Mall, and catch the matinee of For The Love of Benji at the General Cinema. Since it was a kiddie film, and since it was Saturday, and since it was not at all unusual to set loose two ten year-old boys in a mall unsupervised in 1977, we were each given a little cash, my mom drove us, dropped us, and off we went.

     But here's the thing: Steve and I had no fucking intention - whatsoever - of seeing For The Love of Benji. That was just a ruse to get us to the theater, where we were actually planning to sneak into a movie called The Deep. It was rated R, and a friend of ours had snuck into it the weekend before. We had been told, from his firsthand account, that not only did they swear in this movie, but that Jaqueline Bisset wore a bikini for pretty much the entire film, AND that in one scene her white t-shirt got all wet, and you could see her boobies. 

     I never made it to that screen. Because, as Steve and I were sneaking down the hall, I heard something... loud. And... futuristic. I looked into a different theater, and saw on its screen a vast expanse of open space, that was quickly filled by a spaceship, that was being pursued by another, way-fucking-bigger spaceship. Without quite realizing it, I walked into that theater, took one of the only available seats near the front, and quickly forgot about my cousin, and rated R, and boobies.

     I sat through two more showings of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, and when I walked out of the theater, my cousin, his mom, and MY mom were none too pleased to see me. When I got ungrounded from that adventure, I went back and saw it again. Three more times. I went back the next weekend, too. Ditto for The Empire Strikes Back, and The Return of the Jedi.

     As for the prequel movies, if you really want to know how I feel about them, check out this bit from Patton Oswalt. 'Nuff said.

     So now it's 30 years later, the new Star Wars trailer just dropped, I got a huge boner, and just like the beginning of baseball season, hope springs eternal. I will be on the line for the premiere. No, not dressed as my favorite character. I'll be taking Boo, as she has developed her father's love for superheroes and space opera. And I will hope that the last three films do for my middle aged self what the first three did for the young dreamer. Because I still haven't completely given up on my dream of Jedi Knight as a career choice.

     Don't judge me.