growing up star wars

I'm from the Star Wars generation. I was the perfect age when the original movie came out, and Star Wars toys and merchandise absolutely defined my childhood.

I'll never forgive George Lucas for taking one of the most important parts of my childhood and forcing me to watch while he took a giant Jar Jar sized shit all over it, but all the Midichlorians in the world can't take away the joyous memories I have of playing with my Star Wars figures, sleeping on my Star Wars sheets, and wearing my Darth Vader Underoos T-shirt everywhere I went.

I spent way too much time in the Growing Up Star Wars group at Flickr yesterday. It is just filled with photos, drawings, and other artifacts of my generation's youth. I couldn't stop watching the slideshow because each new picture showed a kid with a toy that I wanted so much, a kid wearing a costume that I had, or something else that was so familiar, it was like looking into my own memory.

Unless you have an hour or more, I wouldn't recommend viewing the group's slideshow, but here are a few highlights:

Jackpot – originally uploaded by eyebrow antics.
I am so retroactively jealous of this kid, 9 year-old me wants to punch him in the face. It's bad enough that he got the Imperial Shuttle that I always wanted, but the Tie Interceptor, too? And just to rub salt in the wounds, look at all those GI Joe toys!

Headphones – originally uploaded by fidgikiwi.
This could have been me. Everyone knows that the Star Wars soundtrack sounds better when you listen to it through giant can headphones with the long extension cord while you sit on the floor.

luke skywalker, age 6 – originally uploaded by olrebbie.
See kids, this is why it's awesome to have a parent who is an engineer.

Star Wars Halloween sometime in the '80s – originally uploaded by corelliancaptain.
See if you can spot the kid who has costume remorse.

Christmas Morning 1978 – originally uploaded by secretfunspot
The gold shag carpet, the wood paneling on the wall, the heavy curtains, and the Death Star playset that he didn't need to trade for the landspeeder because he already had it … how many other kids had precisely this Christmas morning in 1978? (Take a look at Christmas 1981 if you really want to envy this kid.)

TK 421 – originally uploaded by Two Twumbo Twetzels.
You really have to see the largest version of this picture to fully appreciate it. That awesome helmet is paper maché, and anyone who was once a little boy will tell you that the costume isn't complete without a gun … even if it's a six shooter.

Star-Wars_1979 – originally uploaded by DarickR.
This was drawn by Darick Robertson. Yes, that Darrick Darick Robertson. You can almost see some Spider Jerusalem in Han Solo, if you squint.

I could easily go on and on all day like this, but I think you get the point. Even though I know the world wasn't sepia toned, and wasn't viewed in three inch squares, it's how I remember my childhood. This is how I grew up, this is why Star Wars is so important to me. This is why Han will always shoot first, and I'll always wonder what exactly I should get a Wookie for Christmas if he already owns a comb.

I submitted this post to Propeller. I'd love it if you could help me get it to the front page.

i just bought my first fark headline t-shirt

I know, I know, it’s so very wrong.

But that’s precisely why it’s so right!

make an incision, doctor limpf

I have an insane amount of work to do before Sunday night, all of it requiring a great deal of creative output. I’m already so far behind on the deadlines, I think I’m going to be up until the sun has charred the other side of the world and come back to us so I can get it all done.

I told Anne earlier today, “I don’t mind any of this. I’m incredibly grateful that I can earn a living doing all of this stuff … but I am nearing physical and mental exhaustion, so anything I do between now and Monday is likely to have a certain, um, Bug Powder sensibility about it. I’ve never wanted to crank out widgets, but right now it would be a lot easier to turn my mind off and just do that.”

I thought for a second.

“Man, I am really glad I don’t have to do that.”

It’s not all bad, though. My office is currently warm in every sense of the word because:

I’m drinking a pot of genmaicha green tea.
The setting sun is streaming golden rays the color of my tea through my office window.
The air is filled with the scent of a fig candle I absolutely love.
I’m listening to Chill Out! from Instinct ambient.

I don’t envy the task my editors have in front of them, but at least I’m going to enjoy the process of getting The Madness into their hands.

the great wheaton hockey scandal of 1991

My friends at CliqueClack did an interview with Dean Devlin, creator of the sensational new series Leverage. Dean and I played hockey on the same team (with, I’ve just now remembered, Adam Baldwin, also) from around 1989-1991. He was a forward and I was a goalie. One night in Burbank, our team gave up a breakaway near the redline. I saw it happening when the puck was still in the offensive zone, so I was ready.

When the other guy crossed our blue line, I was already way out of the net, near the bottom of the faceoff circle on my left side. I skated backward with him to force him to shoot on my terms. I guess I was near the crease when I saw him pull his stick back way over his head. “Oh good,” I thought, “he’s just going to try to blast it past me. Those shots almost always go wide, or right into my glove.”

The next thing I knew, there was an explosion in the rink, and a bright flash of light before everything went dark. When the lights came back on, I was on my knees, surrounded by a semicircle of skates. I pulled my helmet off, and watched a whole bunch of blood pour down onto the ice.

“Oh, the way it beads up is really neat,” I thought. Then, “Wait. That’s my blood.”

I’d done my job and forced him to take a low-percentage shot that went wide, just like I was supposed to. Unfortunately, it went right over the net and into my skull. My helmet was crushed, and I got to take a trip to the emergency room for something like 36 stitches in my head. I also got whiplash, which was not awesome.

Anyway, in Dean’s interview with CC, this game came up. He said:

“Wil was a dynamite goalie. When he was still shooting Star Trek, we were playing in a game and a puck actually cracked his helmet open and he needed stitches and the producers of Star Trek basically wanted to murder me. ‘You’re letting Wil stand there in front of a net while we’re shooting the series?’” Oh, the scandal.

I miss playing hockey so much. If I could justify the expense, I’d totally buy some new gear (I’ve outgrown my skates and pants, and I’d need a new helmet for obvious reasons) and find one of those leagues for guys who are in their thirties.

It may seem silly, but seventeen years after we played together, hearing that Dean thought I was a dynamite goalie means the world to me. I worked really hard to be a good keeper back in those days, and I was really proud of our team. I had a lot of free time, so I worked out at the rink almost every day, and played pick up games a couple of times a week. That season, I had a great record and a great save percentage. I even got to travel and play in an exhibition game against some members of the 1980 gold medal team in front of a sold out Boston Garden – where I was scored-on and pulled after one shot, which still makes me sad to this day. In my defense, it was Mike Eruzione who made the shot, and it was a two-on-none break. But still, I wish I’d stayed in the game.

Until I read this today, I had no idea the producers bitched Dean out, and it’s amusing to me that they did because I wasn’t even a regular on the series when this happened. In fact, shortly after the injury, I got a call from the Star Trek production office. I was surprised to hear from them, and assumed someone had heard about the accident and wanted to bitch me out about it.

They were actually calling me to tell me that Gene Roddenberry had died.

It’s weird how memories are all woven together, isn’t it?

work in progress …

I should really tell OpenOffice that Stardate is a word, but now it’s kind of amusing to me that it always tells me “UR DOIN IT WRONG!”

Coming of Age is as enjoyable to watch as I remember, even though I haven’t seen it in at least twenty years. In fact, my only real complaint so far (I’ve watched a lot more of it than it would appear from this screenshot) is that my acting is pretty flat and predictable. I make a lot of obvious, weak choices. Of course, I’m not exactly objective about that sort of thing, so maybe I’m being too critical of myself. Also: really bad pre-helmet hairdo. There’s a story behind that, but you’ll have to wait for the book to find out what it is.

Oh, and to anyone who says that Memory Alpha isn’t exhaustively comprehensive, I can only say: flux coordinating sensor.

(Image can be embiggened at Flickr)