Revenge of the Billy

In honor of Episode III opening today:

I am not a Star Wars fanatic. I am definitely a fan, and I probably know more trivia about the series than is really necessary; but I am not one of the hard core, dress in costumes, wait days on-line, bust out my unopened action figures and replay the films kind of guy. Star Wars has been an important phenomenon in my life though.

Star Wars, before it was Episode IV, before it was A New Hope, came out when I was an impressionable child. Back in first grade, I was the only kid in my class who had not seen it. But even then I could tell by rushed breathing and wide-eyed looks of wonder in the other kid’s eyes that it was something special. My folks finally took me one night to this beautiful one screen film palace in downtown Seattle to see it. This was a huge deal at the time, a trip into the city to see a movie. I was knocked out, I was excited, I was obsessed for the next few years. As I said, I’m not hyper-obsessed, but I’ve put in nearly 30 years with this series, and as I’ve said many times before; I don’t care if Lucas put fucking Carrot Top in as Darth Vader, I’m seeing the movie.

…It’s interesting that I’m back in Seattle for the (apparently) final episode, wrapping it back around to where it all began for me.

But none of this is the point, the point is Star Wars Trading Cards.

Oh yes, this is where the beginning of my collecting obsession began. Feel the tingles… Hear the silent bells of meaningfulness… The older, cooler, more experienced kids – the second graders – had all seen the movie. And at recess they would gather at the domed monkey bar contraption and play X-Wing/TIE Fighter dogfight – oh but more than that, they would look at and trade their Star Wars cards.

I had no idea how the pictures on these cards related to the rest of the known universe, but I inferred their dire importance in the way the other kids related to them. By the time I was aware of Star Wars, there was already the red series cards. The blue series had already moved through its entire run.

As a brief aside here: my heart is beating a little faster just thinking about this. Seriously.

I didn’t start collecting cards until the yellow series. I could only get my hands on a few of the red cards that the other kids had doubles of, and the blue ones? Forget it. I have a fond memory of that yellow series, they were the first of a kind for me. The green series came next and my brother and I found it so easy to collect the entire set by that time that I think of them as pretty much garbage. The orange series? Pure shite, pure and simple.

But the blues, those beautiful blues. The ones I could never have. The thought of them still brings on this ridiculous feeling of unquenchable and deep reaching desire, of unhealthy obsession that I could soooooo easily fall into with complete abandon. It’s a black hole that I can get comfy in.