From Mike Alexander, guest blogger.
Editor’s note: This was sent to me last week, right after the new trailer for “The Force Awakens” came out.
On this morn of the new trailer dropping, and everyone asking me if I saw it, I would like to relay something for prosperity’s sake. Yes, I have seen it, and to say the least, I was not impressed. However, I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about what Star Wars means to me, and I would think, to thousands; nay millions of kids just like me.
When I was growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends. Maybe I was too awkward, maybe I wasn’t athletic or “cool” enough; but none of that matters now. What does matter is that there was one thing that always gave me comfort. Something that made me feel safe again after I was chased up a tree by a kid in my neighborhood wielding a BB gun. Something that made me not lose hope after I was told by a classmate that he was going to kill my pets, because I looked at his “girlfriend” the wrong way. Something that made me stop crying after one of my football teammates told me that I was the most worthless piece of crap that he had ever seen on an athletic field. That one thing was Star Wars.
Some of my first and favorite memories of my life are of the original 1977 movie. Sitting in my basement on that incredibly ugly red carpeting with my cousin, drinking Jolt Cola and eating Frito’s. The absolute astonishment of seeing those yellow letters of the opening crawl fly through space, combined with the epic march so perfectly crafted by John Williams. The incredible feeling of awe I felt when I first saw the Imperial class Star Destroyer chasing Tantive IV through the space above Tattoine will forevermore be my favorite two minutes and 34 seconds of film…ever.
In my seclusion at home, I created a world around myself. A world where I was the hero, one where I was the one who everyone liked, one where I was the star athlete. I was Kolar Fett, a proud member of the Sentinel Corps of the Jedi Order, with a rich lineage of Mandalorian ancestors. I was a beacon of hope, a proud warrior, who was just and honorable. I would spend hours making up fantasies in my head about epic battles on the slopes of a volcanic mountain or a forest with towering blue trees on a planet in a galaxy far, far away.
I can tell you the number of engines in the Super Star Destroyer. I can tell you the name of the main villains and heroes in every movie, comic book, graphic novel, or book. I can tell you why Mace Windu has a purple lightsaber, both the real reason, and the one they made up for the movies. I can tell you every Jedi’s lightsaber combat form. That is how much time I’ve spent learning about this extensive universe. When I was 10 I finally got a TV in my room with a built in VCR. I would put the Trilogy on stand-by. When I was in my room I would pop the cassette in, and play it in the background. When I left the room, I would pause it, and as soon as I came back in, I would hit play.
I watch it when I’m sick, when I’m sad, when I’ve had an argument with my friends or wife, or just when I’ve had a really long day at work. It’s been the one constant in my life that I could always rely on.
Are those movies the best in cinematic history? No. Are they worthy of every accolade and award in the book? Certainly not. But to me, they will always remind me of a happy time in my life and will always hold a special place in my heart.
Do I still get made fun of, yes. Does it bother me? Not in the slightest. I proudly fly my flag of Star Wars Fanaticism, and I always will….May The Force be with you, always.