The year was 1978
well it was 1978, and i was Four'ish
If you haven't read or listened to my Buttery Fingers review of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, you should. In it you learn about my parent's first step towards the full indoctrination of their children in all things Star Wars where at the ripe old age of three as I sat on their lap to watch on the silver screen this pop-culture phenomenon. A year later, in 1978, George Lucas and his emerging merchandise empire teamed with the Kenner toy company to truly cement the Star Wars magic into the psyche of young impressionable minds like this then little boy in San Rafael, California.
Over the course of Christmas and birthday booties, I would amass during the late 70's and early 80's my collection of pure, plastic mediums of galactic imagination. Locked in combat with my older brother and friends, these instruments of childhood warfare would slowly show the toll of repeated battles. Scratches. Lost weaponry. Even the occasional loss of a limb. It was brutal, but such is the cost of the great conflict between the Dark and Light side of The Force.
As childhood faded into adolescence, my imagination would slowly shift from toys to girls. Play time diminished as chores increased. Then one day as I was pulling weeds in the back yard I came across a badly sun-bleached Luke Skywalker action figure. A smile probably crept across my face as I enjoyed a brief moment of nostalgia...and then I tossed into the trash the pathetic remains of this once glorious paragon which had been crafted by the hands of the marketing gods.
Oh how I now wish I had cherished at least a few of these relics of my childhood, retaining at least one untarnished Luke Skywalker safely frozen in cardboard and cellophane wrap. If I had, I could sell him right now for as much as $3,000 on E-Bay!
