A Quick Update (10/9/17): Two years after writing this, not much has changed: instead of a car, I am sitting at the bar of a movie theater, nervously refreshing multiple browser windows, yet again waiting for Star Wars tickets to go on sale.
I wrote this piece two years ago in a different city, before I graduated, before I moved, before I got a real job, before I got a second real job. While reformatting it for this site, I was able to re-read these words; I was able to put myself in the driver’s seat of my Honda Accord, nervous about what was coming, both in my life and in the lives of characters that feel like family. The past two years have ended up being years of the greatest change and joy and anxiety for me and, honestly, I don’t know if I could have done it without the knowledge that I would have a new Star Wars movie every December. But how I feel about Star Wars still hasn’t changed and I don’t think it ever will.
Long live Star Wars.
It is 7:05 PM on October 21st, 2015 and I am parked outside that movie theater right off the highway. I am writing this in my car because in less than two months it will be the the most important day of my adult life so far.
It is 9:00 AM on December 18th, 2015 and I am graduating from Texas A&M University for the second time, clutching a Masters degree and a sense of relief. Today is also the day that Star Wars Episode 7 will be released. This is a problem.
It is October 21st again and I am still in my car. It is now 7:30 and tickets are supposed to go on sale for Star Wars at any moment. The plan is to walk right up to the box office before the online throngs can order any so I can get 5 in a row for a non-3D, early screening. This is not a very well-thought-out plan. But it is the only plan I have and I’m going to stick with it. May the Force be with me.
It is 1997 and I am five years old. George Lucas, may he live forever, decides to re-release the three original Star Wars movies into theaters and my life is changed forever.
It is 1999 and I dress up like Jar Jar Binks for Halloween. Some have argued that it is my lowest moment as a Star Wars fan but I still stand by it.
It is 2002 and I have made my own Star Wars website. I go by the name “Starkiller” because that’s what George Lucas originally wanted as Luke’s last name.
It is 2005 and I have a final exam the day after Revenge of the Sith premieres so I am not allowed to see it at midnight. I am devastated. I tell my mom that I will never have a chance to see a Star Wars movie on its premiere night again. There will never be another new Star Wars movie. This is the last time I remember crying in front of my mom.
It is 2015 and I am not thirteen years old anymore and they’re making a new Star Wars movie and I don’t know what to do. A lot has changed over the past ten years. I have changed a lot over the past ten years. I am no longer the shy little kid who hid Star Wars comics under his desk so he could read them during class. I am no longer the gawky, glasses-wearing thirteen-year-old with a mouth full of braces and a notebook full of movie ideas to be sent to the Lucasfilm Story Department.
Lately, I’ve been waking up nervous. I should be worried about what happens after December 18th, after my graduation, but instead all the focus ends right before. I am nervous about Star Wars: Episode 7. What if I’m disappointed? What if I don’t like the movie? My expectations are so high that there’s no way I won’t be. Right?
Ever since the first time I watched it, when the opening crawl burst on the screen and the opening trumpet blasts shook me to my very core, I was hooked. I was more than hooked. From the age of five to, well, now: Star Wars was my entire life, for better or for worse. I read every book, I played every video game, I bought every toy and made movies on my parents’ camcorder using floss to hold up my X-Wing. Growing up, people idolized quarterbacks and point guards and rock stars. I had George Lucas (the creator) and Ben Burtt (the sound designer) and Dennis Muren (the model maker) and John Williams (the composer). They were my rockstars. I wrote them letters. I went to conventions. I watched the behind-the-scenes documentaries over and over again until I had it all memorized, the whole history, like I was studying for a final exam.
Star Wars became the reason I’m a creative person, the reason I write, the reason I’m not an accountant (no offense to accountants who love Star Wars.) It’s been a part of my life longer than most of my friends, longer than both of my little brothers. Star Wars has made me into the person I am today, it opened up a world of reading and history and cinema to me. It is important.
If this new Star Wars movie, the one I thought would never even happen, makes me feel even a tenth of the way I did when I watched it way back in 1995, I think I’ll be just fine. The nerves will go away when I hear that opening trumpet blast in a movie theater again. It’s been over ten years since the last time that’s happened.
It is 8:01 on October 21st now and it’s time. It suddenly hits me that we’re getting a new Star Wars movie this year. And I have a sinking suspicion that the lady at the ticket window recognizes my voice because I’ve called the theater so many times this week but it might just be the nerves. I am ready as I’ll ever be.
“5 tickets to Star Wars, please.”
