Star Wars Day

Twenty years before the opening of the movie Star Wars: The Force Awakens, I had already deemed December 18 as Star Wars day.

You might be thinking, ‘But wait a second Jason, are you a prophet? A fortuneteller? Or did you have any inside knowledge from Lucasfilm itself? Why would you deem that day, of all days, Star Wars Day?’

I wish that any of the three questions above were real, as it would've made the story much more interesting. But my story is a little more humble, but one that has stuck with me for the rest of my adult years.

Back in December 1993, I had decided to move back up to my home in the quad cities Illinois, from Durham North Carolina. It was a quick decision, and probably one that I should've thought out a little bit more, but I can't change the past, can I?

But you're probably wondering, why December 18? Why that day out of all days I considered it to be Star Wars Day way before there was even an announcement of an episode seven.

You see, back in spring of 1993 the radio drama adaptation, of the original Star Wars movie came out on audio cassette. For those of you who are unfamiliar with an audio cassette, imagine it being like a VHS tape, but only for audio. And if you don't know what a VHS tape is, look it up on YouTube, or ask anyone over 40. I won't be offended if you don't bother though. It was pretty archaic.

Anyway, I knew that the drive from Durham, was going to be a long one. And I wanted to make sure that I was entertained for the ride. The first Star Wars radio drama was about seven hours long in length. Which was perfect. But there was still another seven hours or so of my ride that I would need to fill. So, on December 17, 1993, I dropped in to South Square mall, in Durham, for the last time. It was on the bottom floor of a two-story mall, right the beneath Spinnakers, a restaurant that I had worked in as a waiter. And it was there, that I picked up the newly released version of the Empire strikes back radio drama on audio cassette. 

And it was on December 18, 1993 when I hopped in my 1987 Buick Skyhawk, and hit the road.

And for anyone out there who drives long distances for a living, I don't have to tell you what it is to have something to listen to while on the road. I have started out early that morning, and immediately popped in the first cassette.

I had been a fan of Star Wars ever since 1977, while I was still three years old, but even after months of having their original Star Wars radio drama on cassette, I had yet to even listen to all of it.

And the drive from Durham, to Moline, was not a short one. But, let me tell you, it flew by. The episodes were in half hour increments. And I was glued to them.

It certainly didn't hurt that familiar Star Wars actors such as Mark Hamill, Anthony Daniels, and Billy Dee Williams, were among the actors in it, but with the amazing music of John Williams in the background, and Ben Burt's sound effects, it was like watching the movies in my mind. And what was also special about it, was that the scripts, written by sci-fi fantasy author Brian Daley, had additional scenes that were not in the movies.

The whole thing was utterly fantastic.

And keep in mind, this was 1993. Star Wars was just on the edge of coming back into fashion. Because, between the years 1984 and 1991, no one really cared about Star Wars. All the kids that grew up with it at the time thought it was beneath them. Something they enjoyed as a child. 

Even when I was in high school, people, other classmates my own age, would say, “Oh Star Wars? Yeah I love Star Wars!” Almost as if it was something from way back when. Something that had gone by the wayside.

And that was exactly what it was like. People loved it, but there is nothing new about it anymore. It was a science-fiction and fantasy that was no longer entertaining, and became more like a legend. It was recognized as a “once was”.

And that all started to change back in 1991 when the book, “Heir to the Empire” was released. The Timothy Zahn book was the first new Star Wars tale ever to be put out after Return of the Jedi was released in 1983. But even then, there was a long time to wait even before there was Episode I.

I'm not sure why the radio dramas were released when they were. The first Star Wars radio drama came out in 1980, coming out the same year that The Empire Strikes Back came out. In fact, I remember going over to a friends house back in 1982 and him saying, “Hey, do you want to listen to Star Wars?”

I remember giving him a strange look. Obviously he was a little crazy. “What do you mean, listen to it? How can we listen to it?”

Keep in mind this was the early 1980s, and VCRs weren't even mainstream yet. How could we even listen to Star Wars at all? I didn't understand. It wasn't until late 1992 when my local NPR station had an ad stating thatthey were replaying the Star Wars radio drama 

that I realized my friends father just recorded it off the radio when it originally aired. And suddenly, I was jealous of my younger self, wishing that I had believed him, and listened to it then. I would've loved it.

But had I listened to it then, I would've never had enjoyed it on my road trip. As I mentioned, I listened to each episode back to back to back. And I was saddened when the last episode of Empire strikes back played, because, at the time, they hadn't produced the return of the Jedi radio drama yet.

I felt exhilarated when it ended. Almost as if the young elementary school age Jason suddenly came back out wanting more. While Star Wars itself was on the edge of becoming popular again, it had already hit its stride with me.

And even though the ride from Durham to Moline was a long one, I look back at that ride and remember how energized the radio dramas made me. And I'll admit, there are times I wonder where my life would've taken me had I not moved from North Carolina back to Illinois. But that's a story I guess I was never meant to know.

And now, here I am 23 years later and I'm about to go see Star Wars Episode Seven with my wife and my 12-year-old son. Back in 1993, December 18 was only special to me alone, but now how lucky am I that I get the share of the day now with the people who I love the most.

TinTin Day

Four years ago, right before the new Steven Spielberg movie of Tintin came out, my son and I headed over to Best Buy to browse for something new to watch. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and we were looking for something new to binge watch.

We strolled around the DVD section but nothing really jumped out at us. But as we moseyed over to the kids section we noticed, facing out in front of us, the animated version of Tintin that came out in the early 1990's.

We both noticed it at the same time, and both of us picked up a copy to look at.

To be honest, up until that point I had never heard of Tintin. I had seen drawings that Herge, the creator of Tintin, had made, but I had never experienced any of the stories before. And even when I heard that Steven Spielberg was making a movie on it, I still didn't have a handle on what even Tintin was.

So as my son and I were looking at the DVD case, I couldn't help but think that it looked like a good deal. A whole season for ten bucks? Sign me up. Apparently in preparation for the new movie they had we released the cartoon and it was at a good price. So it was a win-win situation for us.

We got home and unwrapped the cellophane from the case, and got things ready to watch.

Starting off with, “The Crab with the Golden Claws”, we watched as a man in a trench coat peered around the corner and watched as a man emerged from the fog. The two men met in a clandestine sort of way, and were soon ambushed. And eventually you see in silhouette the men throw a dead body into the sea.

To be honest, this was not exactly what I was expecting. As an animated children's show, I wasn't expecting good storytelling. But that is what we were experiencing. And from then on out, after that prologue, we were both hooked.

With the exception of taking a break to make dinner that night, we watched the first out of two discs all the way through. We watched the high adventure, and the slapstick comedy. It didn't take long for either one of us to become a Tintin fan.

But wait! You might not know who Tintin is either. As I mentioned, Tintin was created by author illustrator Herge, back in the late 1920’s. And it follows the adventures of a young reporter named Tintin and his little white terrier dog, Snowy. In fact, after the release of Raiders of the lost Ark came out in 1981, some of the reviews from Europe had mentioned that Raiders reminded them of Tintin. And Steven Spielberg, at the time, wasn't familiar with the stories either. And had soon afterward he obtained European copies of the the books and became an instant fan as well.

But for a father and son who love good stories, high adventure, and slapstick comedy, this was absolutely perfect for us. And the next day, as I rattled my way through our small kitchen, to get our Thanksgiving dinner ready, my son put in the second disc and eagerly ate the stories up.

The following year, the night before Thanksgiving, we ended up getting the fourth season of Star Wars clone wars to watch. Which was something that we were both looking forward to. And pretty much like the year before, like we did with Tintin, we binge watched the adventures the continuing adventures of Anakin Skywalker, Ben Kenobi and Asoka.

But even though we both had a great time catching up on these episodes that we hadn't watched before, there were something special about the year before in the awesome adventures that we watched in Tin Tin. And after we binge watched the clone Wars, we put in Tintin that next morning as I got our Thanksgiving dinner ready.

And he's been a part of our Thanksgiving day, and our holiday ever since. I can't tell you why we took to it like we did. Or even why we always end up talking about it late fall of the year. But we do.

And as a divorced father of an only child, you have to get used to splitting your time up during the holidays. You have to get used to taking the time that you have and making it everything you can. And you have to get used to how quiet things get when your child isn't around. It never gets easy, for anyone who lives through the same thing. But we make it work.

And it wasn't until this year that, while we still acknowledge that is Thanksgiving time, we've lovingly adopted the day as Tintin day. Which seems to honor, at least to us, our little family, and own traditions.

And, no doubt, my son will grow up, and maybe have a family of his own one day. And from there he will develop his own traditions. But I hope, in the back of his mind--even years from now--he will always think back on this holiday and remember all the adventures that we had.

A Kruel Opportunity: Chapter 1 #lifechanger

A Kruel Opportunity

By Jason Platt

Chapter 1: #lifechanger

Dad was gone.

Well, maybe not gone gone. Not dead gone. Although, I’m sure if you asked my mom, she would tell you that she wished he was. I could hear her say, “Oh, Tommy, if only murder was justifiably legal” and then she’d chuckle, and then laugh-- waving it off --as in a ‘I was only kidding” sort of way. But I knew her better. The laugh would be added to dilute the true feelings.

Since my dad had left with some skank (Mom’s term, not mine), my mom hasn’t been--well… mom. I don’t know how to talk to her. It’s hard to talk to someone who’s constantly in ‘angry/sad mode’. And whenever I walk into a room and find her mumbling things to herself, I just step back, out of the room, slowly. Hoping she doesn’t notice me. To get out of the way before she takes any of that anger out on me. The “mom mumble”, much like the foaming mouth of a rabid dog, is nature's way of telling you back off.

People keep telling me that I shouldn’t take sides. That I need to stay out of Mom and Dad’s crossfire, and just keep out of it all. Stay neutral. Sweden. But it’s hard not to be involved. I mean, how can you not? Especially when you pass by your mom’s room and hear her crying night after night?

One day when Dad came home to pick up a couple things from the house--a box of his fishing gear, the gear he and I would use would use on weekends--I saw his girlfriend sitting in the passenger seat-- mom’s seat---checking her make-up in the mirror.

I think Dad said her name was Candi.

Candi.

God, I hope I heard him wrong.

As if my own world wasn’t already falling apart; a few days later my mom sat me down in the kitchen and told me point blank that we were moving from our home in Davenport, Iowa, to some place in Rhode Island. She gave her notice at the school, and we were moving as soon as the school year was over..

I just about flipped out.

Okay, okay. Truth be told, maybe I did flip out. I don't know if it's a technical term for what I did, but flipping out is what my therapist wrote down in his journal. Okay, so maybe I looked at it when he stepped out to talk to his receptionist for a second. It was all there, double underlined in red. “Thomas, Flipped Out”. Like somehow tossing your mattress out on the lawn, and lighting it on fire has suddenly turned into an "emotional disturbance". Dr. Tomlin, my therapist, arranged for a colleague of his, who lives in the town we’ll be moving to, to take me on as a new client. Apparently I’m also “very unbalanced”. Oh, and also, as punishment for burning my mattress, my mom said she wasn’t going to get a new bed for me until we got to our new place. #CouchTime. One less thing to pack I guess.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

Really.

My therapist said… or wrote, he wrote it; I may have looked at the book more than once, that I will be fine. I will eventually become a solid citizen. When I’m thirty.

#confidence

Now with the exception of Jenny (The only person I would consider to be a close friend of mine) no one else knew about the move. Sure the teachers knew, they worked with my mom, but I wasn’t going to have all this negative attention thrusted at me. Having people I barely knew tell me that they were going to miss me and stuff. I couldn’t put myself through that.

I was, however, able to finish out my 8th grade year at school (thanks mom). But (again, thanks mom) by the time school was over, our house was completely packed up ready to be loaded onto the Mayflower van. So there wasn’t any "time wasted". None. Zero. She wanted to get out. The ink on my yearbook was barely dry when we packed up the car. I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to Dad or Jenny. When I complained about not seeing Jenny my mom simply said:

“Why do you want to say goodbye to your little friend? Trust me, twenty years from now you won’t even remember her name.” She unlocked the car with her keychain. The doors pa-popped. “Don’t you guys text everything anyway? Don’t you Instagram and things and stuff? We gotta go, come on.”

She got in the car.

I bolted.

I ran.

I heard her screaming for me as I ran through the neighbor’s yards. Cut through the Jamison’s front yard and through the back. Mr. Jamison was mowing. And as I went by he yelled something at me. But I didn’t care. I kept moving. I went down through the ravine, caught a couple spider webs in my mouth, jumped the creek, and ran up the hill--feeling the tree branches scratch and poke my body, and muscled my way up to Jenny’s back yard.

I grabbed a hold of the chain link and pulled my body up over the fence, heading to her back porch. Her little terrier, Snowball, saw me and followed me up to the sliding back door yipping at me the whole way. I ran up to the porch and knocked. Even as I was knocking, the door was sliding open. Her dad--Mr. Cue Ball, Jenny called him-- must have seen me coming. He was holding a piece of jellied toast in his hand, his tie draped over his shoulder.

“Tommy--? This is a little early--”

“Is Jenny here?”

He was about to say something else. About to say ‘no’, that I might ‘try coming back at a decent time’, I could see it in his face. The ‘Dad Look’. Old Cue Ball. But Jenny’s mom came up behind him. Placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at her and shrugged, mumbling as he went back to read the news on his iPad.

“Tommy--What’s going on?” At least she had some sympathy. I forgot what it looked like on a grown-up’s face.

I swallowed, spitting the words out between heaves, “Is--Jenny here? I need to see her. I’m--”

“Tom?”

Looking over her mom’s shoulder I could see Jenny. She was tying her robe closed as she squeezed past her mom up to me. The look of worry on her face.

"Tom, what is it? What's going on?"

Before I could say anything, her face drooped as she answered her own question, "you're moving today." It wasn't a question. I nodded. She knew me better than--well--anyone really. From behind her, beyond the kitchen, I heard the doorbell ring in three quick bursts. Then hard knocking followed it. Jenny's mom looked at me with sorry eyes and reached up and squeezed my shoulder before heading to the door. Jenny took my hand and led me out on the porch, sitting on one of the benches.

“You’re leaving now aren’t you?”

I nodded.

"What? Now?"

I nodded.

"Now, now?? But I thought it was going to be--"

“On Friday, I know, right?” I was starting to control my breathing, but the sweat was starting to bead up. “Got up this morning, and she had most of the car already loaded--”, I took a breath, “Had me help and then--” I gestured to the ravine and then to her porch.

From inside, we could hear Jenny’s mom at the front door. Voices. My mom. I knew I only had a few seconds left, "she wasn't even gonna let me say good-bye. And I couldn’t leave without--"

Jenny, with her sad eyes, gripped the shoulders of my shirt, and pulled me into a hug. I felt her arms wrap around me tight. I could feel her cheek against my neck and her warm tears against my skin.

She had never hugged me before.

I leaned in to it, resting my hands on her shoulders.

"I couldn’t leave without telling you good--”

Before I could finish I could hear the all too familiar snapping coming from my mom's fingers. Behind the smile I could tell that she was super pissed. "Thomas. We have to go."

Jenny pulled away, but kept her eyes on mine.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Thomas. Now."

I could feel the red rising up and could feel the heat on my cheeks. I would not cry. I would not.

Jenny squeezed my hands, and whispered in my ear.

“This isn’t good-bye.”

And then she kissed my cheek.

At first I didn’t know what it was she even did. I didn’t know it was a kiss. With all the TV and movies I’ve would have expected it to be something a little bit more dramatic. The swelling score behind us or something. The moment was gone before I even realized what it was. Before I could even react, or say anything else the Snap. Snap. Snap. cut through it all.

“I gotta go.” I said.

“Yeah,”

I got in the idling car, slamming the door behind me. I looked back at the house of my best friend, Jenny standing at the doorway. She started to cry when her mom came up behind her, holding her shoulders. Like a caged animal I put my hand on the glass. Hot tears, silently rolling down my cheeks as I could see my breath on the glass.

As the car started to back up, I could feel the knot in my stomach twist. This was it. This was the end. And as my mom put the car in drive it was though my seat belt, that I hadn’t even realized I put on, felt more and more like a restraining harness. I rolled down my window, and twisted my body out of it as far as it could go. My mom’s voice yelling. I could feel her tug at the waist of my jeans, trying to pull me back in. But I wasn’t budging. I wouldn’t let her. Jenny saw me and she ran out in the street waving. I waved back as we shouted out promises of staying in touch.

When Jenny disappeared behind the summer leaves, I sunk back into my seat furious. As soon as my body was clear I could hear the electric whir of the window going up and then heard the door ka-klunk locked. My mom looking at me as if I had grown horns out of my head and asking my why I would do something so stupid.

I’ll be honest, I can’t remember what else she said. It was all a blur. White noise. I just let the verbal beating continue. It didn’t matter. Let her get it out of her system. She couldn’t hurt me anymore than she already had. Because all I could see was my friend Jenny standing at her door crying as we pulled away. And, almost like a voice-over in a movie, all I could hear was my mom's voice saying, ‘Trust me, twenty years from now you won’t even remember her name.’

I was sitting in the passenger seat, a shell of who I was six months ago, and watching the only home I’ve ever known go by for the last time going 70 miles an hour. It was going to be a long ride to the east coast.

Remember when I said I wasn’t taking sides?

#iwishiweredead