I think I'll continue with more ruminations on my baptism into the Star Wars universe. That cool with everyone? Righto then. Let's get to it.

It was August of 1977 when I first saw Star Wars. We'd just moved to the neighborhood where my parents still live. I'd met a few of the neighborhood kids. Most of these kids, I went to school with from grade school on thru high school. I was the new kid when school started in the fall of '77. I knew only the half dozen or so kids from the neighborhood. As I recall, only two of those kids were in my class. Those kids were also girls, which didn't help matters much. Let's face it: when you're a six year old boy, girls are the last thing you want around. Cooties? No thanks. I do have a point here. I'm getting to it, I swear.

One of the cool things about SW was that it was(and still is to a certain extent) like a handshake, an immediate icebreaker. At recess you could go up to a kid you didn't know and say "Star Wars?" and they counter with "Yeah! Star Wars!" and you're fast friends. At least until recess is over anyway. You may see them in the halls or at lunch and say "You 'member that one part? With the thing? Yeah, that was cool..." The deep, meaningful conversations. That was all we played on the playground. There was usually an argument over who got to be Luke, Han or Chewie. Most girls wanted nothing to do with the boys. "Boy germs? Shuuuuuh...(you know the sound I mean)". Because of that, we were usually without a Leia. Leia was perpetually captured, lost, imprisoned, or in someother kind of distress. The adventure was we were either going to rescue Leia or we were to rendesvous with her. When we got to the rendesvous point, usually one of the backstops or a set of monkey bars. Once we got there, whaddya know! She's not there! Gotta go look for her. The adventure continues...

In the house we moved into, there was a fireplace. Said fireplace needed fuel. Dad bought a truck load of firewood. While helping dad stack the wood, I found an "authentic" stormtrooper blaster! Seriously! To my six year old mind, that particular log looked exactly like the fabled E-11 blaster. There was a stub that stuck out from the left that looked like the magazine, another from the bottom. Perfect grip. There were also a few things on the top, that to me, looked like the spot where the scope should've been. Wouldn't you know it? My blaster had the scope shot off. I was there! I know! That log stayed in our backyard for over 3 years. I had a special hiding place for it. Whenever I was sent out to get firewood, I was suddenly on the Death Star, running around with this blaster, yelling "Get back to the ship!!!" My folks wondered why it always took me so long to get an armload of firewood until they looked out the window and saw me running around, dodging stormtroopers and blaster bolts. Not wanting to interupt my play, they cracked a window. They heard me screaming about the ship, stormtroopers, old men & tractor beans (not a mispelling. That's what I thought they were). Come to find out nearly 30 years later, I found out they had a hearty laugh. That's what you have kids for, right? Entertainment....