I love Star Wars. This is a fact that I have no qualms about sharing. And perhaps my relationship with the franchise is a little more complicated now than it has been in the past. Do I love it wholeheartedly and accept it for all that it is? Maybe not. But in the end, there is no question that I do  love it.

I always say that Star Wars came to me later in life than most; my parents had filled my early years with Disney (another complicated but nonetheless everlasting love) but my science fiction exposure was sorely lacking. A rekindled grade school friendship with a very bright and slightly anti-social classmate led to her sharing her favourite thing in the world with me, and she was perplexed that I had never watched any of the movies despite being the ripe old age of ten. She was extremely invested in the franchise and was bound and determined to show me the light, and I was more than willing to be converted. Her enthusiasm in sharing this universe with me meant that I basically knew all the plot details before I ever had the opportunity to experience them myself, but somehow it didn't dampen my first viewings of the movies in the slightest. Maybe the anticipation of seeing things play out on screen as she had described them even enhanced things, in a way. Regardless, she held the gate open for me and I dove head-first along after her. She generously shared her extensive collection of Extended Universe (EU) novels with me, gifted me with any doubles she had from the Star Wars card game, we pored over her small collection of art books and encyclopedias, and she introduced me to the world of fanfiction.

Being the impressionable child that I was, my initial experience was coloured by my friend's very strong opinions: Han and Leia were superior to cry-baby Luke, the Rebel Alliance was in the right but the Imperial Army was aesthetically much cooler, the original Thrawn Trilogy was superior to all else, so on. Sure, I may have not-so-secretly preferred the Young Jedi Knights series aimed towards our specific demographic, but I was still mostly in awe of her vast knowledge in all things Star Wars and deferred to her expertise on the subject.

The friendship fizzled out when my friend's parents opted to pull her out in favour of home-schooling, but my love for Star Wars endured. I dragged my family and friends to the movies being re-released in theaters, even forcing everyone to suffer sitting in the front row with our heads craned right back. Sure, I wasn't quite as invested in the EU - having lost my easy access to books - but I did at least follow through on A.C. Crispin's Han Solo Trilogy through high school. Like many, I was sorely disappointed with the prequels, opting out of watching the second movie in theaters entirely. My newly designated first boyfriend insisted I catch up so we could watch the third together when it premiered, and I am embarrassed to admit that I had my first kiss while we were trapped amidst the terrible "romantic" dialogue peppered throughout the second movie. 

Even before the prequels, I had learned to cherry-pick what I liked in the Star Wars universe. I have come around on Luke Skywalker, but any books that focused too much on his adventures tended to lose my interest. I was decidedly not enthralled with Thrawn or Mara Jade or any of the books that focused too much on them. I enjoyed the anthologies like Tales from Jabba's Palace, but really it was the Solo family that I loved - Leia, Han, all three Solo children, and of course Chewbacca. The Courtship of Princess Leia, The Crystal Star, and the Young Jedi Knights series were especial favourites of mine. I read many others that I felt lukewarm towards at best, and promptly forgot about them. When I heard all the things that had happened in the newest EU novels (Chewie dead, Anakin Solo dead, Jacen Solo evil), I decided I was better off living in my own little bubble.

When Disney purchased Star Wars, I greeted the news with a shrug. Star Tours had been in Disneyland for longer than I could remember, and the amount of Disney and Star Wars crossover merchandise made all of it unsurprising to me. I was cautiously excited when the new trilogy was announced, and moved into unreserved anticipation when the first trailer was released. I enjoyed The Force Awakens immensely, and even though I was sad that the "original trio" were never reunited onscreen, I was grateful to have Han Solo back for even a short while (given Harrison Ford's frosty feelings towards the franchise as a whole), even if I was incredibly salty that my beloved Solo kids had been wiped out of existence for the underwhelming Kylo Ren. When Carrie Fisher passed away, I called my mother and sobbed in a way I had never done for a "celebrity". I sobbed through Rogue One (we had the unfortunate timing of having purchased tickets already for that day), sobbed through the trailer of The Last Jedi, and sobbed through a reasonable portion of the movie upon its release. I fully expect to sob through the last movie, disappointed that Leia and Carrie Fisher never got their rightful due, but grateful to have anything.

My relationship with the Star Wars fandom is tenuous as best. In the convention circuit, my experience with them has been overwhelmingly positive - they are open and welcoming, a bit hammy but genuine in their affection for the franchise. Online.... well, it's probably one of the most toxic fandoms out there for anyone who is not an average white male. It's disappointing and the one reason I would shy away from being associated too strongly with Star Wars.

Next year, some friends and I are venturing to Disney World after the opening of the new Galaxy's Edge, and I am 100% hyped for it. Does it matter that I am thirty-three and possibly too old for this? No, Star Wars heavily relies on that nostalgia anyway and I am not too proud to be their target market. Even the idea of being able to stand in front of full-ish scale reproduction of the Millenium Falcon is making me feel bubbly inside. That is what Star Wars does to me, and I am delighted to have that kind of child-like anticipation still alive.

Tonight, while we are off in a beautiful corner of our province in the remote-but-touristy surf-town of Tofino, my friends have kindly (and mostly enthusiastically) indulged me in a screening of The Empire Strikes Back. It's hard not to marvel at the starlit vistas with forbidding Star Destroyers floating serenely through space, the stunning puppeteering that infuses Yoda with life, the frankly jaw-dropping combination of shadow and light and colours in Luke and Vader's lightsaber duel, the look on Han Solo and Princess Leia's faces as he is lowered into the carbonite freezing chamber. It's probably been at least seven years since my last viewing, and it's still just as engaging.

To top the night off, we took advantage of the relatively sparse light pollution of this area and enjoyed a bout of star-gazing, marveling at the very faint dusting of stardust we could make out and the twinkling lights from so far away forming the constellations in our skies. It felt like a beautiful way to cap off the night. It felt right.

May the fourth be with you!

Luke Perry died today. I never really had much exposure to his star power or charisma, having never watched Beverly Hills 90210. His death is sad to me in the way that it is sad when anyone passes away too young. I think the only "famous" death that made me openly cry was Carrie Fisher's, and there was a lot of personal investment in her from a young age due to my enthusiasm for Star Wars from a young-ish age and then just the context of Carrie Fisher as a person.

Still, it does make me sad on a slightly more personal level because his two boxer dogs used to be occasional boarders at the clinic where I worked. I only remember that they were both very handsome and one was named Mac. I never met or spoke to Luke Perry. What I do remember is that our office manager - a sweet, older British lady - was often the one who would take his phone calls, and she reported how sweet he was to her and how he was always careful to address her by name. Having worked in the veterinary industry for so long, you really come to appreciate the people who take the time to be nice.

So rest in peace, Luke Perry. Thank you for always being so friendly and decent to our office manager and receptionist.