Considering I’m
writing this on May 4th, which has been proclaimed as Star Wars Day,
along with all of the recent hoopla surrounding the upcoming new Star Wars movie, The Mandalorian and Grogu, scheduled to
be released on May 22nd, I can’t help but think back to the very first
Star Wars movie I saw nearly 50 years ago.
At the time, my husband and I eagerly had been looking forward to seeing the film, mainly because of its enticing description: “A technologically advanced science-fiction movie with never-before-seen special effects!” So on a Tuesday night during the first week it was playing in Concord, we headed to the theater…and found a line of people that stretched across the entire length of the parking lot.
“I hate waiting in lines,” my husband complained in a tone that told me he was ready to turn the car around and make a beeline for home. “I had enough of it when I was in the military.”
“Well, we’re here now,” I said. “And I really want to see the movie, don't you?”
So we joined the line. When we finally got to the point where only five people were ahead of us, an employee announced that all of the tickets had been sold out and the next showing would be in three hours.
The look on my husband’s face was easy to read. The only movie we’d be watching in three hours would be on our portable TV in the bedroom.
Unfortunately, back then no one had home computers or smartphones, so tickets couldn’t be purchased in advance. Therefore, we had to keep returning to the theater and waiting in line. And every time we did and failed to get a ticket, my husband became less and less enthusiastic about seeing the movie.
“Want to try again tonight to go see Star Wars?” I asked him one Thursday morning, a few days after our third attempt had resulted in yet another dismal failure.
Had I just told him I'd purchased two tickets to the opera, he couldn’t have looked less enthusiastic.
“I would rather have an appendectomy… performed with a potato peeler,” he muttered.
“I promise this will be the last time,” I said. “If we don’t get in tonight, we won’t try again until at least a month from now, when the crowds will be a lot smaller.”
He rolled his eyes. Finally, he said, “OK, but this is it. I’m not standing in any more lines. I don’t care if the cast promises to show up in person and reenact the entire movie live, onstage. This is the last time I’m going to waste a night standing in the movie theater’s parking lot. I think I’ve memorized every bump, crack and pot hole in it.”
So back to the theater we went, and took our places at the end of yet another seemingly endless line.
“Time to spend another hour looking at the backs of people’s heads,” my husband said, frowning. "What do you want to bet these people all got out of work at noon today and camped out here all afternoon?"
When the line dwindled until there was only one person left in front of us, I felt a sudden pang of hope as my heart raced.
“Do you think we’ll actually make it this time?” I whispered to my husband, reaching for his hand and clasping it in a death grip.
“Don’t be silly,” he answered. “You know what kind of luck we have. Prepare to have the ticket window slammed shut in our faces.”
But to our shock, we each ended up clenching a ticket in our sweaty little palms. I didn’t know whether to use my ticket to get into the theater…or to have it bronzed.
After the movie, my husband and I, wide-eyed with awe, both agreed it had been worth all of the time and trouble we’d gone through to see it.
And on that night, two Star Wars fanatics were born.
The next day, we, as if we were two young kids, headed to Toys R Us and bought several small Star Wars action figures and a huge model of the Millennium Falcon, Han Solo’s ship.
And as time passed and the sequels were released, our Star Wars buying continued to escalate…into an obsession. We accumulated so much stuff, we ran out of space and had to rent a storage unit for all of it. And far too often, we’d spend so much money shopping for additions to our collection, we’d end up living on peanut-butter sandwiches for a week.
But it was worth it to sleep on Star Wars sheets and brush our teeth with Star Wars toothbrushes.
Finally, my mother sat me down one day and said, “Look, this Star Wars habit of yours has got to stop. You’re just throwing your money away on all of this... junk! Be smart and put it into a CD or a money-market account instead of wasting it on some cheaply made toys.”
But my husband and I were too hooked on collecting to stop. Our Saturday nights no longer were spent going out for pizza and a movie. Instead we spent them roaming through the aisles in Toys R Us and tossing Star Wars items into our cart, and then heading over to Bradlees or K-Mart to do the same thing.
By the time we finally decided to take a breather from collecting, we’d spent over $2,000. Considering the fact that the average price of a new car back then was about $4,000, our Star Wars spending was no small matter.
And once again, my mother was more than eager to remind us of that.
“You’re both supposed to be grown adults!” she said when she came to visit and noticed bags of Star Wars toys on the kitchen table, before we’d had the chance to take them to the storage unit and hide them. “Mark my words, the day will come when you’ll regret not depositing your money in the bank and having a nice nest- egg instead of just a bunch of worthless Dark Vader dolls!”
“It’s Darth Vader, not Dark Vader, Mom,” I said, impressed she even knew that much about the movie.
“I don’t care what his name is!” she said. “I just hope he’ll pay your rent when you end up broke and homeless!”
Years later, in 1998, I bought a collectors’ price guide for Star Wars toys and painstakingly looked up the value of each item in our collection. Many of the little 3.5-inch action figures, which had cost $1.99 each, were listed as worth between $100 and $300 each. The 12-inch action figures, which we’d paid $11.95 each for at K-Mart, were worth up to $500 each, depending on the character. All in all, the grand total for our original $2,000 collection, according the guide, turned out to be about $70,000 at that time.
With a smug sense of victory, I couldn’t wait to show the guide and my calculations to my mother. Her expression couldn’t have looked more shocked if I had shown her a photo of her mailman delivering mail...in the nude.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “All of those toys you bought are actually worth that much money?”
I nodded. “Much more than any money-market account would have earned, don't you think?”
So after that, whenever birthdays or Christmas rolled around, my mom would gift us with Star War toys. We were excited we finally had won her over from the Dark Side.
When I was wandering through Walmart the other day, I happened to spot a huge display of Star Wars toys featuring characters and vehicles from the upcoming new film. I felt myself being drawn to it, the same way I’d been drawn to the original displays back in 1977.
I struggled to resist the sudden urge to run down the aisle and wildly fling toys into my cart.
But what stopped me was I knew if I bought a few Star Wars toys, I’d have to hitchhike home with them because I wouldn’t be able to buy any gas for my car, which already was running on fumes (mainly because I’d been waiting to win the lottery so I could afford to purchase some fuel).
Alas, old habits die hard. I yielded to temptation and bought just one new Star Wars toy…a small Lego set featuring the Mandalorian and Grogu on their speeder bike…for under $10.
And last night on a collectors’ show on TV, in honor of May the 4th, they showed a man who’s been collecting Star Wars figures since he was a child.
One of the figures he owns – a rocket-firing Boba Fett, of which fewer than 100 were produced before the company realized that maybe a toy that fired small projectiles at children wasn’t such a hot idea – was appraised at $10 million.
The remainder of his collection was appraised at an additional $2 million.
I’m seriously thinking about hitchhiking back to Walmart.
Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science-fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net.
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