My Friend Feels the Force
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
Jan. 29, 1999
MY FRIEND DAVE'S head is spiraling somewhere in Tatooine.
Tatooine is the planet from which Luke Skywalker emerged to become a great Jedi knight.
If you are not familiar with the name Luke Skywalker, you are either a) currently spending an extended shift in solitary confinement; or b) live in Buttonwillow.
Dave, too, would make a fine Jedi knight. Except that he lives in Tracy. And though some will argue that Tracy is in a galaxy far far away, the rural city has yet to crown its first Jedi.
With the heavily anticipated prequel of the "Star Wars" trilogy called "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" hitting theaters soon, Dave is currently not himself.
Hard fact: Dave sweats "Star Wars."
Seriously. The other day, while we were shooting hoops, tiny watery replicas of Jabba the Hutt set up a colony on Dave's brow. I shuddered.
But it made perfect sense. Since "Return of the Jedi" ditched movie screens, there has been a Death Star-sized void in Dave's life.
He missed Yoda.
So, Dave did the only thing a 27-year-old boy would do: He bought toys. Hundreds of them. An entire room inside his house is crammed with them. Tiny Storm Troopers are strewn across the floor like some vast battlefield.
And on Jan. 16, 1998, Dave's wife produced a son. The boy's (middle) name? It was a no-brainer -- Anakin. He clutched his first (toy) saber within days.
With rumors of an extended four-minute trailer from "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" arriving soon, Dave is having trouble functioning at work.
And when the film finally unspools in theaters (May 21), Dave will not be at work. He is taking a seven-day vacation to complement the film's debut. Seriously.
He plans on watching the film every day, perhaps more if the theater manager does not kindly ask him a favor: "Please leave. It's 3 a.m. and our crew has to sweep up."
I have kept a close eye on my friend since, totally unprovoked, he uttered something about the mineral content of planet Naboo. That was last September.
Since then, the guy has slipped entirely into a coma scientists are now calling Industrial Light & Magic. Every phone conversation begins with "Star Wars," and never ends without a combination of the following words: Wookie, Yoda, saber and Mace Windu.
So I did what any close friend would do in such a case: I recorded his ramblings without his knowing it. The following bits of information were culled from microcassette tapes:
Sept. 8, 1998: "You should have seen all these freaks waiting in front of Target for the new shipments of Star Wars' toys this morning. Crazy."
Sept. 9, 1998: "Hey, man. I stashed a bunch of battle droids on a bottom shelf, Aisle 2, at Toys R' Us. Nobody will ever find them there. Go check it out they're behind a mountain of Ken dolls. I'd go back but they're limiting us to one a day now."
Nov. 25, 1998: "I just saw the preview. The place was packed. Everyone watched it before The Waterboy' started, and left. I went back after the movie was over -- they replayed it. I read it on the Web site."
Alas, his mania is infectious. I, too, am in great anticipation of the picture; in recent months I've scrutinized the other three films with religious fervor.
My head, too, has been paying strange visits to Tatooine. You know what? It's not a bad place to visit.
Contra Costa Newspapers
Jan. 29, 1999
MY FRIEND DAVE'S head is spiraling somewhere in Tatooine.
Tatooine is the planet from which Luke Skywalker emerged to become a great Jedi knight.
If you are not familiar with the name Luke Skywalker, you are either a) currently spending an extended shift in solitary confinement; or b) live in Buttonwillow.
Dave, too, would make a fine Jedi knight. Except that he lives in Tracy. And though some will argue that Tracy is in a galaxy far far away, the rural city has yet to crown its first Jedi.
With the heavily anticipated prequel of the "Star Wars" trilogy called "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" hitting theaters soon, Dave is currently not himself.
Hard fact: Dave sweats "Star Wars."
Seriously. The other day, while we were shooting hoops, tiny watery replicas of Jabba the Hutt set up a colony on Dave's brow. I shuddered.
But it made perfect sense. Since "Return of the Jedi" ditched movie screens, there has been a Death Star-sized void in Dave's life.
He missed Yoda.
So, Dave did the only thing a 27-year-old boy would do: He bought toys. Hundreds of them. An entire room inside his house is crammed with them. Tiny Storm Troopers are strewn across the floor like some vast battlefield.
And on Jan. 16, 1998, Dave's wife produced a son. The boy's (middle) name? It was a no-brainer -- Anakin. He clutched his first (toy) saber within days.
With rumors of an extended four-minute trailer from "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" arriving soon, Dave is having trouble functioning at work.
And when the film finally unspools in theaters (May 21), Dave will not be at work. He is taking a seven-day vacation to complement the film's debut. Seriously.
He plans on watching the film every day, perhaps more if the theater manager does not kindly ask him a favor: "Please leave. It's 3 a.m. and our crew has to sweep up."
I have kept a close eye on my friend since, totally unprovoked, he uttered something about the mineral content of planet Naboo. That was last September.
Since then, the guy has slipped entirely into a coma scientists are now calling Industrial Light & Magic. Every phone conversation begins with "Star Wars," and never ends without a combination of the following words: Wookie, Yoda, saber and Mace Windu.
So I did what any close friend would do in such a case: I recorded his ramblings without his knowing it. The following bits of information were culled from microcassette tapes:
Sept. 8, 1998: "You should have seen all these freaks waiting in front of Target for the new shipments of Star Wars' toys this morning. Crazy."
Sept. 9, 1998: "Hey, man. I stashed a bunch of battle droids on a bottom shelf, Aisle 2, at Toys R' Us. Nobody will ever find them there. Go check it out they're behind a mountain of Ken dolls. I'd go back but they're limiting us to one a day now."
Nov. 25, 1998: "I just saw the preview. The place was packed. Everyone watched it before The Waterboy' started, and left. I went back after the movie was over -- they replayed it. I read it on the Web site."
Alas, his mania is infectious. I, too, am in great anticipation of the picture; in recent months I've scrutinized the other three films with religious fervor.
My head, too, has been paying strange visits to Tatooine. You know what? It's not a bad place to visit.
posted by Corey at 12:49 PM
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