On a sw.com VIP blog about Star Trek's 40th anniversary a month ago, there was mention of what fandom was like in the early-mid 1990s, when skaters were putting Boba Fett stickers on their boards while Trek fans were the mouth-breathing basement dwellers. (I'm not saying I agree with that view, by the way.) Alternative bands wore their love for SW on their sleeves with songs, mentions in interviews, and collectibles in their cribs. The blog entry then made the point that now, at least in the eyes of Darth Media and mundania, uh, we're the mouthbreathing basement dwellers now.

I do remember that era 15 years ago quite well. Back then SW caught a new wave of cool after years of it being underground (and not considered cool). There were all kinds of reasons why. The OT on video and on cable attracted new fans and reignited the love in those who saw the movies as kids. New books and new comics gave the masses new stories for the first time in years. The growth of the internet allowed interested parties to keep in touch. Plus there was the anticipation of new movies.

Collectors were buying back their childhoods, making SW collectibles hot. In fact, collecting SW became a bona fide hobby after the publication of SW: From Concept To Screen To Collectible in 1992. After years of underusing its cash cow, Lucasfilm issued new licenses for new merchandise. The fan club was finally called "The Star Wars Fan Club" again (note to Lucasfilm: keep it that way).

It was during that time I began co-writing and co-publishing the greatest SW fanzine of all time, Blue Harvest (1993-2000). I got a lot of mail from fans all over the world who were thrilled and relieved they were not alone. (Ditto after Dark Horse ran one of my letters 13 years ago.) If I wore a SW t-shirt or hat somewhere, anywhere in the world, I'd get compliments.

By 1999, SW fandom was huge. It was also much more obsessive and much more *public.* Before the late '90s, people didn't have an idea of what SW fans were like. Or at least they forgot the campouts and a few costumed fans at the theaters in the late '70s-early '80s. This is as opposed to the popular, if not always accurate, perception of what Trekkies/Trekkers were like. By the time TPM debuted, the public saw grownups in Jedi robes batting each other with lightsabers as they camped out for 90 days outside of a movie theater. They heard fans go on about how SW was important to their lives. Those fans might have been genuine and sincere, but there's a reason why fen have traditionally not been so chatty with the mundane world about their obsessions. They know it's dangerous to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Therefore, Darth Media proclaimed us the new heirs of ubernerdiness (not in a good way either), making us the brunt of late night t.v. and sitcom jokes. Though the worst of it was a columnist for the Washington Post, the late Mary McGrory, who had the nerve to compare SW fans with the Columbine shooters.

The image from 1999 has more or less stuck. But are we any geekier than our Trek counterparts? No, not really. It's easier to knock a fierce devotion to a fantasy film or anything else like it than a devotion to sports. Even at its nuttiest, sports fandom is still more socially-acceptable. Look at Jimmy Fallon's uberobsessed Red Sox fan character in that movie he did with Drew Barrymore. Even though the guy lived and breathed the Red Sox, he still got the girl, a successful businesswoman who learns to smell the roses by becoming a Red Sox fanatic too. Compare that with the dateless doughy nerd who lived with his folks seen briefly in "Failure To Launch." Somewhere down the line, it'll be some other fandom's turn as the ubergeeky and weird. And maybe then, we'll be hip again .