My lovely bride really dislikes me. Because I've swept her into my geeky world.
I've gotten her hooked on the new version of the show "Battlestar Galactica." So much so that the other night she put off scrapbooking (yes, she put off scrapbooking) to sit through a TiVo'd episode. (And we have two more stacked up; we're now into Olympics figure skating mode.)
For me, being of a certain age, this is a trip down amnesia lane. Because I was hooked on the original version in the late 70's. The one that rode the coattails of the first wave of the "Star Wars" bandwagon. When all we wanted to do was see people argue in the latest issue of "Starlog" about which were cooler, the Cylons or the Stormtroopers. And how did we want to spend our paper route money--on a scale model of a Viper or an X-Wing? Decisions, decisions.
Three things that make watching the show better now that weren't even on the radar screen in 1978:
1) I'm watching the show with a girl.
2) I can have a beer while watching it.
3) I might get lucky later that night.
We are planning a trip to DisneyWorld for this June. This is the grown up trip, the one where we leave the kids home with the grandparents and go do all the fun grownup things to do there. It's our tenth wedding anniversary this summer, so we've got it coming.
Yesterday I'm on the Disney website checking schedules for the days that we are there, and I let out a yell. Nay, more like a Wookie war whoop....
"We're going to DisneyWorld during Star Wars weekend!" I'm giddy. I'm giggling uncontrollably. And she is very unnerved.
"You don't understand!" I tell her. "This is going to be so cool." I was there during Star Wars weekend last year on business (this is the cool part of the job; to be able to say I'm going to Disney World "on business"...). I stood next to a cardboard cut out of Jake Lloyd for 5 minutes, then realized it really was Jake Lloyd.
That's a wooden acting joke, for those who missed it.
"Think of it this way," I tell her. "We'll be the only married people at the park. And the only ones with disposable income that's not tied up in action figures. They'll treat us like royalty."
She's not buying it. And I'm still giddy.
I think I need to remind her who came into this marriage with an authentic Star Wars lunchbox, with the original Thermos. Near mint condition. And we're talking about the first run, original stuff, not after it became Episode IV. The lunchbox that will pay for our sons' textbooks in college someday, if we can stand to part with it.
While I...each time I'm home I venture again into the storage room of my parent's basement. Hoping beyond hope to somehow discover a hidden antichamber and unearth the Holy Grail that I know I once had.
The jawa sandcrawler playset. With a jawa figure in the cloth cloak, not the cheaper plastic one that came out with the later mass produced versions. And the landspeeder. The Rosebud to my Citizen Kane--injection molded by Kenner and sold at Sears for $19.95, but priceless now on Ebay to the highest software engineer bidder.
Maybe that's why I'm giddy about the Star Wars weekend. Maybe that's why I enjoy being sucked into a new round of Battlestar Galactica--even though Starbuck is a girl now. Maybe it's all just an opportunity to recapture lost youth. Maybe this is just my Rosebud.
Good thing I get to go through it with my best friend this time around.
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