Confessions of a Star Wars Fan

Last year for Father’s Day my wife and kids got me a t-shirt that says, 12 parsecs.  To this day, I’ve only had 2 people comment on that t-shirt and when they did, there was a gentle, subtle nod we gave each other that said, “Oh yeah, you’re in.”

If you don’t know what I mean by 12 parsecs…google it.

I’m an unashamed Star Wars fan.  Wait, let me rephrase that…I’m an unashamed “Classic” Star Wars fan.  And if you need to know, Empire Strikes Back is the best in the entire franchise.  Any other answer will tarnish your Mois Eisley street cred.

Today is Star Wars day.  May the 4th be with you.  Get it?  It’s May 4th…[insert geek snort here].

To say that Star Wars was an integral part of my childhood is a gross misunderstatement.  It consumed my childhood.  I can’t think of one birthday or Christmas that I didn’t get something that was related to Star Wars. Action figures, vehicles, movie posters, soundtracks, comics, etc. were all a part of my cherished collection.

Emphasis on “were.”  That’s past tense.  A past that is tense because of a depressingly fateful day.

When I was around 8, I was transitioning from playing with Star Wars figures to GI Joe guys (which had better articulation).  At that time, a neighbor of ours began taking care of some pre-school kids in her home.  She asked my mom if we would mind loaning her any toys we weren’t playing with.  Being the generous kid I was, I said, “Sure, here’s a box of Star Wars toys.  You can use ‘em as long as I get them back.”

Two years later we were moving to a new neighborhood and I went to collect my toys.  I’ll never forget that day, “Oh, you wanted those back?  I gave them to the Good Will.”  What!  Are you kidding me!  Was I not EXPLICIT that I wanted them back.

She wasn’t kidding.  And to this day I regret ever loaning her that box of toys (which included a Millennium Falcon, X-Wing fighter, around 50 action figures, and other assorted goodies).

Regret is a funny thing because it reminds us of a moment that can never be undone.  Like quicksand, it pulls us in and beacons us to sulk and become consumed while the scene plays over and over in our minds eye.  In the mean time, our present moment is left neglected.  Nothing is being accomplished.  Nothing is being achieved.  Nothing new is being gained.

If I stay in a place of regret, I will never discover what God has for me now.  My focus resides on the distant, making the present fuzzy and out of focus.

I would love to have those old toys back.  But I also have a wonderful life…right now.  And I’m pretty sure a box of old toys wouldn’t add much to it’s “wonderfulness.”