BY ALEXA CHERRY
For the UAS Whalesong

When I was growing up, my friends referred to me as a “walking, talking Star Wars dictionary.” I’m sure I was not alone in this – though in my isolated cul-de-sac in my small corner of the American Southwest, I was the dominant Star Wars authority. I know because I defeated all who challenged my title, though admittedly, not with knowledge. Why try to outsmart someone when you can just hit him or her with your plastic lightsaber until they go away? This is a philosophy that I have maintained late into life. Star Wars was a huge part of my life from basically birth until I was roughly 13 years old. So, fast-forward roughly a decade, give or take a few years. I was upset when they announced Disney’s acquisition of Star Wars, and still more upset when I found out that another actual movie was being made. You are talking to someone who, in her teen years, came close to fisticuffs over being recommended the animated Clone Wars show by a friend. “Watch it,” they said, in response to which I would go off into a harangue about the original sextuplet of films being the One and Only Canon and any other televised attempt at telling the saga was Wrong and Bad and so were they for partaking in this malarkey.

Long story short, I wasn’t planning on going to go see Star Wars: The Force Awakens at all. I ignored all trailers, avoided all hype, refused to discuss it in public or private – and then, upon   coming home for Christmas break 2k15, I realized that if I didn’t watch it I was going to get it spoiled for me by social media and that was the worst  possible thing. Undergoing a drastic 180 in attitude overnight, I convinced my dad to go see it with me, and so off to The Valley Cinema we went. Continue reading “The Force Needs Five More Minutes, Mom”