Star Wars. Love the living crap out of it. Have since my first words — “Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrn!” and “It was a boring conversation anyway.”
I’ve attempted to remain spoiler-free as the new movie nears. And for the most part, I think I have. But there is one leak that pre-occupies me. And it’s the worst kind.
During the winter my bladder goes into gerbil mode. Always has. I have to, ahem, wee wee about every hour. I can stretch it to about two hours with my own Jedi mind tricks, but alas, I feel the dark side flowing through me with enough force (Force) to make a rain-bird sprinkler giggle like Salacious Crumb after taking a hit from Carrie’s coke nail.
So, alas, what do I do? Do I partake in the large Cherry Coke Zero come Friday and risk getting up during the crescendo (the movie’s, not mine)? Do I get a medium and still risk it? Do I forgo the soda altogether? But if so, then forget the popcorn. The ying and yang thing, ya know? At that point am I really experiencing it all? I have never, ever seen a movie without a popcorn and coke. It would be it’s own steady distraction. Sigh.
And my dear wife. She loves the galaxy far, far away as much as I do. How could I abandon her in this rarefied moment? We’ve been waiting our whole marriage for something like this. Han, Luke, Leia, Chewie, together again. The kind of thing one didn’t even dare hope for as it couldn’t possibly happen. But it has.
Well, I suppose when it comes down to it, I will get the soda. I just need to concentrate and heed master Yoda’s advice — “Size matters not.”
May the Force (Awakens) Be With You All! See you at the movies.