My nephew recently had a party for his birthday at a miniature golf park here in the Bay Area, and my brother and sister-in-law gave out goodie bags to all the nice kids who showed up to celebrate with the boy. One thing in the bag was passed on to me because my four-year-old niece is a sweetheart, and she probably just wanted to do something nice for her cranky uncle. Below is what she gave me yesterday.
Now before I say this, I just have to say thanks to my niece. You’re a much nicer human being than I am, and hopefully when you’re older, you’ll understand why your uncle took the time to write something that no one will read. Secondly, people say that you have to be careful what you write because it can bite you in the ass later in life, especially in the arena of finding jobs because employers have nothing better to do than dig up things you wrote on a blog that you expected no one besides friends would actually read . Looking at my portfolio as of 2009, I don’t think Lucas or his HR department will be knocking on my door this lifetime, so fuck it. I’m just going to write this and get on with things.
So back to the toy above. It’s a Star Wars slinky. A yellow, plastic, Star Wars slinky that doesn’t really do anything except stretch. Now, even at the age of 31 (fuck), my imagination could still put this toy to use given some action figures or Legos or whatever the kids could find lying around the house. It could be sentient alien intestines come to devour unsuspecting GI Joes. Yes, they somehow digest what they wrap themselves around. Again, imagination is key with this slinky.
But looking at this piece of crap, it really sums up with the way most people my age feel about the Star Wars franchise and what it has become. It’s just a useless product that you really can’t escape from. This yellow plastic can’t even “walk” down stairs like the original Slinky [barely] could. It can’t even manage to slink down any kind of obstacle you can build with books on your desk; believe me, I tried. It just sits there, sadly waiting for someone to care, and not even my four-year-old niece could garner much interest in it. Okay, I hear you. Yes, my 11-year-old nephew and others around his age probably still find Star Wars “cool” and “neat,” and many loyal fans still buy piece after piece of all the “collectibles” available at Walmarts and Targets. But in the end, there are just people making more Star Wars products and there are more people buying them. I doubt anyone is inspired anymore.
Writing all this, I can’t help but think of all those who work hard at the Lucas empire. I even know a couple of people under his employ, but I would never be able to say this stuff to their faces because I’m a coward and I’m not very eloquent, but I’m sure they and all their coworkers already know what I’m writing here. It’s just another job to pay the bills now. The magic is gone, and the midi-chlorians explain all. Just give the remaining fans what they want or what someone thinks they want. In this economy, we need more Lucases out there creating jobs that make stuff that people watch, wear, collect, and buy… for goodie bags.
Post a Comment