First Time I Saw Star Wars.

Every other kid in my class had seen it. I pleaded with my parents. I begged. They (rightly) guessed that it was going to be too violent and too exciting for four-year-old me. I had to wait til I was five.

Finally, I was five and we could see it. I put on my best dress, a little blue-and-voilet floral-with-smocking-and-ribbon that my aunt sent me for Easter. We went downtown to Granville Street and had Reuben sandwiches at Notte’s Bon Ton, but I couldn’t eat, I was so excited.

I dragged them across the street to the theatre and we got in line, My dad was holding me in his arms. There was an usher sweeping the pavement beside the line up. Yes, this was so long ago that there were ushers who swept the pavement. The usher teased me. He asked if I wanted to come on a date with him, I was so pretty. My parents could go to the movie, but I could go dancing with him, he said. I turned my face into my dad’s shoulder and shook my head.

I do not remember the movie that first time so much. I remember it was loud and it scared me, and I remember that Han Solo was just about the greatest guy ever. Oh, and that David down the block was in trouble for making me be Princess Leia all the time. I was going to be Han next, whether David liked it or not!

I also remember a scene that I have never since seen: Obi Wan and Luke selling the land speeder for money to get passage off Tattooine. But I haven’t seen that scene ever again, so I think I must have imagined it.

I loved that movie. I still do.

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