Dads often expect children to follow their favorite sports team. Or their college. Or even their favorite beer. It can be fanatical. Extreme.
“You will get that Gator tattoo or you’re grounded!”
“But dad, I’m only 7!”
I’ve never been like that. Except … I do have one demand of my 8-year-old daughter. And it’s non-negotiable.
She must be a “Star Wars” fan.
Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make it happen.
I was thinking about this while reading a story about the next installment of “Star Wars.” It told me nothing — only that it will be released in 2015 and is set 30 years after the original series.
I read the story over and over again, hoping it held more information. Maybe a secret message. Maybe if I read it upside down. Maybe if I had a “Star Wars” decoder ring!
In an instant I was blasted back to a galaxy far, far away. I was 4 years old in 1977 when the first “Star Wars” came out. I consider it my TRUE birth day.
For the next decade I dreamed of light sabers. Millennium Falcons. Princess Leia sweeping me off my feet and feeding me grapes (imported from the Dagobah System, of course.)
But my daughter couldn’t care less. So whenever I get the chance, I try to reel her in. Like when we’re buying something for a friend’s birthday.
“We should get him a ‘Star Wars’ toy!” I suggest.
“Oh yeah,” she says. “He’ll love that.”
“Yeah,” I say. “And maybe … I don’t know … we could get an extra … you know … for you and me?”
“Dad!” she says. “No ‘Star Wars.’ Stop drooling and put it back.”
Shot down again.
She watched part of the first film once. I narrated: “See, there’s Darth Vader. He only likes black. Occasionally a Hawaiian shirt on vacation. He wears a mask because his face got burned off. He likes to choke people to death … with his MIND!!! It’s kind of like a hobby.”
She looked at me like I had a light saber growing out of my ear. What was wrong with dad!?! He’s gone all screwy.
But this was it. My chance! And she was into it. Totally interested. Learning about it all. Not wanting to turn on Disney Channel. Actually watching. She WANTED to watch “Star Wars” with me. It was my dream come true!
And then … bed time.
NO!!!!!
My wife insisted. Jedi training over. I haven’t had another chance since.
But I’m plotting. I have an incentive. A new film next year. An apprentice who I can lure to the Dark Side. If I work hard enough. If I think cunningly enough. And if I can just overcome that bed-time tractor beam.
May the Force be with me, and a new “Star Wars” generation will rise.