{"id":105,"date":"2020-01-26T14:25:56","date_gmt":"2020-01-26T14:25:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/7stones.com\/?p=105"},"modified":"2020-01-26T14:31:59","modified_gmt":"2020-01-26T14:31:59","slug":"ok-boomer-star-wars","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/7stones.com\/?p=105","title":{"rendered":"Ok Boomer … STAR WARS!"},"content":{"rendered":"

In which the author strains to stay coherent<\/strong><\/p>\n

Like most of my generation, I missed Woodstock, an event frequently submitted as a pinnacle of the Boomer era … but then we screwed it up at Altamont – fucking California … Mediterranean climate, but compared to the French Riviera and Italian Liguria, so angry. No calcium in their drinking water; that\u2019s the problem. And furthermore, um … wait … hmm, I got sidetracked. La la la … hold on a second. Let me reread. Woodstock – check; didn\u2019t go – check; touted as Boomer high point – check. Right, right. So, ok, yeah … but in particular, it was a high point for elder Boomers, someone 21 plus or minus 5 in 1969.<\/p>\n

1969. Woof. That was 51 years ago. I mean just think, if you\u2019re 21 now, 1969 is really ancient history. In 1969, 51 years prior to that WWI was just ending, a war in which, at least initially, horses were still used in battle. My father hadn\u2019t been born. Crikey. Ok, sorry. Focus – focus.<\/p>\n

Of course, now, 51 years after Woodstock, all Boomers – the elders and the not quite so elderly – have for many years been inundated with floods of exhortations to join AARP and get that annual colonoscopy. The Boomer luster has tarnished. Even their children are likely over 30, so untrustworthy according to their own tenets. Still, we\u2019ll always have Woodstock.<\/p>\n

But I won\u2019t, and not merely because I didn\u2019t attend. Even had I attended, I would not really have been in attendance. I am not a party-hearty type, nor one prone to absorption into mass euphoria or hysteria. North Korea will never be asking me to join in on their pre-Olympic ritualized, synchronized dance routines. (Just imagine: 499 people all bizarrely doing exactly the same thing at the same time, and person 500, in the midst of all that, sitting on the grass reading a book. Decaf cappuccino, s\u2019il vous plait. The mind boggles. They\u2019d send me to their version of a gulag for sure.) There\u2019s a spectrum sometimes mentioned that I am on, and if you know what I mean, then enough said. Consider, I saw Jimi Hendrix in concert at Newport, RI. But I drove myself, watched in a solitary manner, then slept alone under the stars that night, a feast for mosquitoes.<\/p>\n

What does all this have to do with Star Wars? So far it appears to be semi-rational rambling, akin to speaking in tongues. The lede; where is the lede? Someone get a shovel.<\/p>\n

In which the author establishes his bona fides, finally<\/strong><\/p>\n

Still, for someone like me, a math\/physics geek and science fiction nerd, there was an event in May, 1977, that surpassed any dream I might have had about Woodstock. (Ok, I admit it, I didn\u2019t have any dreams. I didn\u2019t really care.) I was a student at a Boston area university at the time. Six months prior to May, 1977, I saw an ad in the Boston Globe (probably) about a movie called Star Wars due out in the spring. My Geist registered this information in a very indelible fashion. It wasn\u2019t much of an ad, and it didn\u2019t make much of a splash, but it didn\u2019t have to.<\/p>\n

There are many university towns in the world, but I maintain there is no place in the world with the density of colleges and universities one finds in the greater Boston area. Harvard; MIT; Tufts; Northeastern; Brandeis; UMass\/Boston; Babson; Bentley; Emerson; Regis; Wellesley; … This is just a few. (At one time I taught mathematics and\/or physics at 7 of these institutions, and managed to find a wife at one of those.) Boston is a university city. Naturally, with so many largely high quality institutions, and so many of those excelling in the sciences, my Geist was not alone in registering the coming of The Force. But here\u2019s the thing – a thing that even having experienced it I find mind boggling – I mean, in this age of billion dollar sci fi movies, what happened on May 25, 1977, was truly remarkable. What the hell am I talking about? Ready?<\/p>\n

On May 25, 1977, Star Wars opened, showing in 32 theaters nationwide<\/a>. 32. California, New York and New Jersey accounted for 14 of those 32, leaving 18 theaters for the remaining 47 states of the union.<\/p>\n

In New England, a region with 6 states, one of which is Massachusetts, the capital of which is Boston … in that whole region, on opening night, it showed in one cinema, The Charles Street Cinema (Sack) not far from Boston\u2019s North Station. And 2 hours (or was it 3?) before the 7 o\u2019clock show, every sci fi fanatic in the area was sitting on the floor of the cinema\u2019s lobby, tickets in hand, waiting for the theater doors to open. I was one of them, and my life was about to change.<\/p>\n

In which the author\u2019s life changes<\/strong><\/p>\n

The hours on the floor waiting were unlike anything I\u2019d ever experienced. There was excited chatter all around me, and some very creative paper planes cruised the lobby for nearly the whole time. I know I said I\u2019m not easily absorbed by mass hysteria, but this was different. Surely you see that. These were people far more my kin than the muddy rock fans at Woodstock. Hysteria was oozing into my mind. I was excited. And then the doors opened, and we all streamed in.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t really know what to expect, but most of those present likely had a better idea, being more fervent fans of the genre. Some had likely been discussing the upcoming event in small clusters of likeminded friends. If I had likeminded friends, it never occurred to me to discuss the film with them, and on the night I went alone.<\/p>\n

So, anyway, the lights dimmed, but the chatter did not abate, and would not throughout the film. This was ok. Booing, hissing, and cheering – it all belonged. And then that amazing script rolls into space giving us some context, followed by a spaceship fleeing something. It is being fired upon. It was all so cool. And then the enemy ship starts to come into view, making an ominous rumbling noise – which of course it wouldn\u2019t have in the vacuum of space, but physics be damned. That was cool too.<\/p>\n

Gosh, that ship is big. And we still couldn\u2019t see the back end. And it kept emerging onto the screen. Holy mackerel, it\u2019s huge. So unbelievably cool. But it wasn\u2019t done; it was much bigger still, and by the time it could be seen in its entirety, my mind was breathless.<\/p>\n

Boooo! Darth Vader\u2019s first appearance, breathing with threatening severity. Hiss, boo! And then down on the planet, what are those? Jawas. And their big tractor thingies are scruffy. I don\u2019t think I\u2019d ever seen a sci fi machine before that wasn\u2019t gleaming, shiny, and appearing fresh off the sci fi assembly line floor. Everything was scruffy, and looked used … so cool. Even the heroes were scruffy, which is sort of how you knew they were heroic. The Empire\u2019s demands of sartorial nattiness were strict and labeled them right off as anal hardliners. For that, if for nothing else, they needed to go down.<\/p>\n

Anyway, you get the idea. Super cool movie, unlike anything I\u2019d ever seen, and a super cool crowd, unlike anything I\u2019d ever experienced. I wanted to experience it again. It was like surfing. If you\u2019re halfway decent at the sport, every good wave well caught produces a kind of addictive euphoria that you want to experience over and over.<\/p>\n

Which explains why, as I drove across the country that summer (which may have had something to do with physics), I saw the film again, and again, and … a total of 7 times more. I remember especially Denver, and somewhere in California. I so desperately wanted that feeling again – that first night with excited \u00fcber-nerds feeling. Alas, …<\/p>\n

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,<\/em>
\nMoves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit<\/em>
\nShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,<\/em>
\nNor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.<\/em><\/p>\n

In Denver and California, and everywhere else I went, the crowds of fellow attendees, relative to that I encountered in Boston on the first night, were lumps. Had they been Star Wars characters, they\u2019d have been crowd extras seen in a distance doing indiscernible things.<\/p>\n

This was an important life lesson. Unlike good waves well ridden, for which there is always a realistic hope of repetition, the Boston first night experience was unrepeatable. Woodstock was unrepeatable. And the 1960\u2019s film Ocean\u2019s 11 was unrepeatable, despite a lame attempt by movie moguls 40 years later to recreate the chemistry and pizzazz of the original. Hollywood! Am I right?<\/p>\n

So, … sigh. That\u2019s why I feel I am entitled to share my opinion about what happened in the ensuing 42 years. So pay attention.<\/p>\n

(Holy crap on a stick … it took 42 years to complete the 9+ film saga? Think of all the early fans who died before the final film. Hmm.)<\/p>\n

In which the author\u2019s dreams are fulfilled, then shattered<\/strong><\/p>\n

3 years. It took 3 years before the Empire struck back. That was a long wait, but worth it. Then another 3 years before the Jedi could have their turn at bat. Again, good film, so while not condoned, the wait was eventually forgiven.<\/p>\n

And then there were umpteen years before the prequel films, numbers 1,2,3. The original three films, now 4,5,6, took place later in that galaxy far far away. And here\u2019s the thing, where I really start getting to the point of this diatribe: relative to 4,5,6 I remember very little of films 1,2,3.<\/p>\n

So … 1,2,3. Something about trade wars (yawn); and some weird alien bureaucrats working for the wrong side of said trade wars, and they had accents that sounded, what, Japanese? Hard to say. And then there was Jar Jar with his pseudo-Jamaican (?) accent. He was painful to watch, and even the Jedi who interacted with him did so with a patronizing forbearance that was also painful to watch. And the spaceships – all gleaming, shinier than Star Trek. Even the heroes had lost their scruff.<\/p>\n

In short, Star Wars was being destroyed, beaten down beneath the steel toed boots of The (Hollywood) Empire.<\/p>\n

Still, hope remained while we waited for episodes 7,8,9. Hard to say where it would go since the evil baddie of 4,5,6 had died in 6, and the galaxy partied and celebrated like nobody\u2019s business. He\u2019d been a good baddie, sitting ominously in a big ass sci fi throne seat, full of obnoxiously sinister overbearing confidence that he would win.<\/p>\n

So, umpteen more years pass, and finally we get episode 7 … or wait, was that just episode 6 with a different title? Big ass sci fi throne – check; sinister baddie filled with overbearing confidence that he would win – check; sinister henchman with black helmet and black flowing robes – check; yet another version of the death star – check; plucky band of rebels fighting against the odds – check. They ripped off everything fine and wonderful from 4,5,6, to that point the only good Star Wars films.<\/p>\n

I was there in 1977 that first night in Boston. Did I mention that? This new film was a travesty, as bad as episode 2 of Highlander. You can\u2019t just keep throwing sinister baddies at us speaking down from their big ass thrones with annoying evil certainty. What\u2019s the point of rebelling if every time the rebellion succeeds Evil just restarts the game with a new evil tyrant? Why not just let the Empire win, choosing the least bad evil guy they throw at the galaxy?<\/p>\n

In which the author has a plan to defeat The Evil Empire<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ok, episode 8 was not without merit, and now episode 9 has come and gone, and opinions are varied. Palpatine, the evil emperor who dominated 1-6, and \u201cdied\u201d in 6, only to be replaced in 7,8 with his uglier twin … anyway, in 9 he was back. Many people felt this was an annoying and disappointing cheat. We saw him die. Still, my biggest disappointment was Palpatine\u2019s successor, #2 of what one could only assume might be an infinite sequence of badness in big ass thrones. So, when it turned out #2 had been \u201cconstructed\u201d by Palpatine, and that there had only been one big baddie all along, I was relieved. Palpatine gets vaporized in #9, rebels wash hands, done. Sequence finite.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, in the midst of waiting for 7,8,9 to play out a film appeared that was also a prequel to 4,5,6. Rogue One was actually really good. So good, in fact, that I have a plan, simply stated.<\/p>\n

1.\tThrow out 1,2,3 and merge into one film that I personally might find memorable. This will require a total rewrite.<\/p>\n

2.\tRogue One should be number 2.<\/p>\n

3.\t4,5,6 should be 3,4,5, but modify 6 (now 5) so that Palpatine\u2019s survival makes sense.<\/p>\n

4.\tAll copies of 7 should be destroyed.<\/p>\n

5.\tThe killing of Han Solo was pathetically undramatic. Stop trying to recreate the \u201cNo, I am your father\u201d moment. Nobody is buying it.<\/p>\n

6.\tMerge 8,9 into one film. If you must, make it 3 hours, but make me personally derive enjoyment from it. Consult me frequently throughout the process of re-creation.<\/p>\n

7.\tKeep ALL moguls, Hollywood power players and bureaucrats out of the loop. Send them to North Korea … in perpetuity. Get some creatives that understand the wonder of 4,5,6. Do it right, like Serenity was done right.<\/p>\n

8.\tAnd for gods\u2019 sake, make Ahsoka Tano part of the story, central to the new episode 1.<\/p>\n

So there you have it, my Star Wars rant. I was there the first night in Boston in 1977, so …<\/p>\n

And it just occurs to me that the entire history of Star Wars coincides precisely with the years during which theoretical physics wandered aimlessly in a decades long stretch of Empire dominated fruitless speculation. In the real world the Empire wins, and the rebels are shunted off to gen-ph. Let that be a lesson to you.<\/p>\n

I was there the first night …<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In which the author strains to stay coherent Like most of my generation, I missed Woodstock, an event frequently submitted as a pinnacle of the Boomer era … but then we screwed it up at Altamont – fucking California … Mediterranean climate, but compared to the French Riviera and Italian Liguria, so angry. No calcium … <\/p>\n

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