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Doug Clark: Star Wars mania takes me on a voyage to the past
“A short time ago, in a cluttered attic far, far upstairs …”
Darkness.
It’s like being in deep space, only worse because of all the boxes and flotsam that surround me.
I’m teetering precariously in a lightless section of my third-floor attic that – it’s embarrassing to admit – could be the next location for one of those depressing reality shows about hoarders.
Stuff stacked to the right. Stuff stacked to the left.
I can’t move for fear of crushing Yoda or Jabba the Hutt or maybe an entire Ewok Village.
I close my eyes and concentrate.
“The Force,” a voice in my head nags. “Use the Fooorrce.”
No. No. That’s wrong. I think the voice is saying, “use the Phooonne.”
I pull my iPhone out of my pocket and swoosh on the flashlight app. Voila! My Star Wars nostalgia journey continues.
I haven’t been up here since my son, Ben, left the house heading for Seattle to pursue his rock ’n’ roll dreams.
This part of the attic became a warehouse for all of his boyhood interests and, man, was he over the moon about all things Star Wars.
Lightsabers still in the box. Droids, Stormtroopers and Rebels. Spaceships like TIE and X-wing starfighters and the dagger-shaped Star Destroyer.
Millennium Falcons?
I find three, no four, of them parked about the room. Plus I know somewhere in here are buried boxes of vintage Star Wars action figures and more play sets.
“There’s a Chewbacca-sized stash up here!” I think and start humming that unmistakable John Williams theme:
“Tah-tah, ta-ta-ta Tah-taahhh.”
Like a zillion others, I fell in love with Star Wars upon seeing the original in 1977.
The next two films, “The Empire Strikes Back” and “Return of the Jedi,” only solidified my affection.
Then one dark night in 1999 I stood in line two hours to see a late-late showing of “The Phantom Menace.”
The movie gave us filmdom’s ultimate dork: Jar Jar Binks, a Goofy-based character now universally despised by every true fan.
So many false notes were struck that it sucked the Jedi joy out of me.
But now?
Everything I’m hearing about “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” is that director J.J. Abrams has tapped into that original magic that made Star Wars such a beloved part of the culture.
Box office records are being shattered and bravo for that.
At its heart Star Wars was always about essential themes, like right vs. wrong and loyalty to your friends and that freedom really is worth dying for.
Our fractured, hateful world could use a mega-dose of Star Wars philosophy right now.
My family plans to see the movie Christmas afternoon courtesy of Ben, who ordered tickets a month ago. (Not that he could ever wait that long. He went to a 3-D showing at 2 a.m. Friday.)
So until I see the film, an exploratory trip to the attic seems like a great way to rekindle my love for Han Solo and Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia.
Trouble is, I never figured on what a giant Jenga jumble I’d be getting myself into.
Or what emotions this journey will stir.
Practically every item I dig out and inspect sends up mental images of my starstruck little son waging hyperspace battles on the floor with his pals like Ned or Seth or Aaron.
Can’t take much more of that. I twist and worm my way out of this mess and call Ben.
I ask if he still has that unopened case of sealed vintage “Star Wars” weaponry.
“You know, the one I bought for you in the mid-1990s for 100 bucks at a gathering of toy collectors?”
He sold it a few years ago on eBay – for $600, he tells me.
“I don’t recall getting a cut of that,” I quip.
“Oh, yeah,” he jokes. “But that was back when I was broke and you were still feeling sorry for me.”
“Tah-tah, ta-ta-ta Tah-taahhh.”
Doug Clark is a columnist for The Spokesman-Review. He can be reached at (509) 459-5432 or by email at dougc@spokesman.com.