It started one seemingly ordinary afternoon at my grandmother’s house. As usual we (my sister, father, grandmother, uncle and I) were all gathered around the television, flipping through the channels while holding casual conversation about how my sister and were doing in school, what was new, the usual. Then we found something that seemed to interest everyone watching, myself especially included. It was Star Wars: A New Hope. It was a new world to me. I was mesmerized by the flashing laser guns and light sabers, and immediately became hopelessly absorbed in the action and the battle between good and evil as the Rebels fought for the good of the galaxy.
From then on, I watched all of the rest of the series which my Aunt donated to me, and then I kept up avidly as the prequels were released, seeing them usually with my father who shares in my love for these movies. I was just as amused by the rest of the series as I was that day.
However, as I began to grow up more, I started to realize that not everyone was as crazy about these movies as I was. Apparently people who were really into this series are considered geeky. It didn’t stop me from enjoying them, and if anyone asked me my opinion of the movies I was honest, but it became something that I wasn’t exactly proud to share. Lets just say if we were all going around in a circle talking about something we liked, I would prefer not to say “Hi, I’m Kevin and I love Star Wars.”