Thursday, December 16, 2010

12 Days of Favorites: Return of the Jedi

The story of Love & Squalor begins many years before the fateful meeting of Wilde.Dash and M, long before the almost nightly movie marathons on uncomfortable and rank smelling dorm furniture and Sound of Music sing-a-longs. From the mid 80’s on, unaware of each others’ presence, M and Wilde.Dash were bonding with family, not over board games or a large family meal (ok, there was a lot of that too), but over the likes of Woody Allen and Walter Pidgeon. The holidays in said families were filled with the usual Christmas fair, but also with strange family film favorites and traditions. So hang your stockings with care and when your sister starts complaining about your billionth viewing of It’s a Wonderful Life and how boooooring it is, spend your 12 Days of Christmas with the movies that have followed Love & Squalor from infancy to bloggerhood.


Two of my earliest memories are of movies, one being my fear of the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz while being potty trained (that’s a story for another time), and the other, of Return of the Jedi. I had fallen down the stairs at my parent’s first house. I don’t really remember that part, but remember the crying and my Dad scooping me up and tucking me in on the lime green couch that had once belonged to my grandparents, the edges of it worn from so many legs rubbing against it. He put on a VHS copy of Return of the Jedi after showing me the title he’d written on the side. I remember his handwriting. I remember Luke Skywalker meeting Jabba the Hut and fighting off the monster and watching Princess Leia firing that futuristic machine gun in her metal bikini.  That particular copy, copied from some unknown source is still preserved in my parents’ basement, safe from Lucas’ reedited ending that removed my favorite music from the end, a song that still makes me feel instantly joyful, because I am both a sap and a nerd. I'll admit it right now. Jedi is important to who I am, even now that I've outgrown those horrendously cheesy Ewoks. It created my love for Carrie Fisher (first as the princess, and now as herself) and started my love for the atmosphere of the desert, and it made me forget my bruises from the stairs.

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