I wondered what would bring me back here to dust off the shelves of this blog. I should’ve known.
It’s always the Wars.
Newsflash: Star Wars is back. That’s right, it’s official: we now live in a day and age where it is cooler to say you love Star Wars than it is to pretend like you’ve never seen them. In fact, if you haven’t seen any Star Wars, well…does ‘social pariah’ mean anything to you?
It’s back, sure, but for some of us, it never left. Some of us have been reading the books religiously since 6th grade. Some of us never stopped collecting the action figures. Some of us actually LOVE the Prequels!
I mean, I was there at Star Wars Celebration Anaheim. Squinting from the back row to see the first trailer. Sobbing in the dark as the Millennium Falcon’s engine swelled to John William’s familiar score.
My friends were back. They were okay. The galaxy far, far away lived on, seemingly in real time.
But this new film is still a strange phenomenon to me. It’s something I never thought we’d get. Even with tickets purchased, it doesn’t seem real. Of course, the fairweather Star Wars fans are intoxicated by the epic geekiness of it all. And I admit, it is a hoot to see a Chewbacca t-shirt in the main display of every store. Star Wars is fashionable! But for the true fans, the ones that have carried the Wars in our hearts since day one, it is a little scary. Tomorrow at midnight (or 7:30 p.m. in my case) everything changes. Whatever we believed happened to Luke, Leia, and Han is about to be confirmed. Or denied. Or obliterated like Alderaan (too soon?).
And, yet, I’ve been very Zen about this whole thing. Very Yoda, maybe. Why? I’ve wondered this for awhile. Is it because my childlike excitement has burned out? Has the little bright-eyed kid in me that believes in space magic gone? Or did he just grow up and make real friends.
Or maybe tomorrow, nothing changes. Even if The Force Awakens is a pile of garbage, it won’t change what the original movies mean to me. It won’t stop me from throwing in Return of the Jedi when I’ve had a rough day, or calling my friends scruffy-looking nerfherders. It won’t make me forget that in middle school whenever I was feeling lonely or broken, reading a Star Wars book made me believe in miracles. Made me forget about the odds (never tell me them!).
Just because something new comes along, it doesn’t have to change how you felt about what came before. Star Wars, or whatever, will always be there for you.
Before I blast into hyperspace, I’ll leave you with this little gem, written by one of my favorite bloggers. You can find her back catalog here, and she’ll soon be starting her new blogging venture. Here’s how she feels about the new movie in the inaugural installment of…
Written by Elizabeth Burch
A long time ago in a galaxy (er, state I guess?) far far away I waited in line at for hours to buy the final Harry Potter book. It was a big event at the bookstore–face painting, sorting hat, swag, the whole deal. I bought a wand and several novelty t-shirts in addition to the book I’d preordered. I’d grown up with these books. The characters were family to me. I hate crowds and merriment, so there isn’t much I’d wait in a big group for, but that book was one of them. So, as luck would have it, I got the book and then had to go to work. Like, an hour later, then my other job after that, then teaching some kid’s class after that. I was booked solid for a good 48 hours after the book had been released. Can you imagine the torture?
Torture is actually an understatement. It’s not so much the waiting part. It’s just this one teeny-tiny flaw that I have as a human being. I HATE being left out. Hate it. Can’t handle it. I can only imagine how much worse that situation would be now, when spoilers and reviews and funny promo videos are bombard us everywhere we turn.
Oh Wait, I don’t need to imagine it. It’s happening again. I’m reliving my nightmare. I, Elizabeth Burch, lifelong fangirl, will not be able to see the new Star Wars right away. Like not even close. Not for like a week. And I hate premieres, I hate midnight showings, I hate all that. I always see the new franchise movies at the earliest Saturday showing by myself, with a giant tub of buttered popcorn. It’s bliss. But once again I have employment that is requiring me to show up and do my job in order to get paid, so I’m out for quite a while. I doubt very much that the collective internet will agree to just be cool and not say anything until I have a chance to see the film, but maybe it doesn’t hurt to ask? Fine. Whatever.
I’ll be the orphaned kid in a Dickens novel, lonely and cold, watching people have fun through the window, waiting for someone to let me in. I’ll watch all the trailers over and over and feel my throat tighten and the tears sting my eyes when the classic theme music plays. I’ll dream of joining in a lively conversation wherein the whole group debates what we loved/hated about the film. I’ll dream of stabbing my facebook friends in the face who post spoilers to their feeds. So have fun, assholes. I’m not bitter, and I hope you all have a great time without me.
Did I mention I hate being left out?