Despite all the criticism of the Star Wars film taking
place here on Debate Unlimited, I must confess that movie has a special
place in my heart, as goofy as it is. Here's why:
I was 16 years old when Star Wars came out. My brother and I and
a friend I can't seem to remember took the train to Flushing, Queens
to watch the movie at the RKO
Keith's theater. Most theaters in NYC at that time were big,
the Keith's was impressive in that 3000 popcorn-munching people
could cram themselves into those seats and gape at spaceships whizzing
around on an enormous screen, piloted by creatures that existed
only in the imagination. Theaters weren't “multiplexed” back
then, they hadn't been chopped up into discrete bits yet in order
to maximize profit. No, back then they showed one film, all day,
for weeks on end. We hid in the theater between shows, and watched
the movie two or three times a day. In all, I saw Star Wars 16
times during the summer of 1977. It captured our imaginations because
it was a progression of everything space travel had been promising
at the time.
Two years earlier, we had docked up with a Soviet Soyuz spacecraft,
greeting the Russian cosmonauts in near earth orbit so we could
shake hands with them and pretend we didn't hate them and their
shitty, oppressive government. Before that we made Skylab, a Manned
Orbital Laboratory (MOL) that was built in order to test the effects
of microgravity (which was code for “spying on the Russians
with orbiting telescopes”). And just 8 years prior to Star
Wars' debut, we had sent men to the moon. After Star Wars, it seemed
like any day now we'd figure out the secret to traveling through
hyperspace. My first job when I was 20 years old was working at
Grumman Aerospace, makers of the LEM or lunar module. There was
a lot of pride there, a lot of interesting people working on interesting
problems, and just about every one of the people I knew there loved
Star Wars. Space travel was in our blood. It was our destiny. After
all, we had lived through more than a decade of it.
When I was about 8 years old, my dad gave me and my brother model
rockets that flew using a liquid propellant (RP-100, also known
as Freon refrigerant). They were Vashon
Valykries, polished aluminum bodies with balsa wood nosecones
and stabilizing fins that we carefully sanded and painted (my brother's
was camoflaged so the goddamned Russians wouldn't see it coming.
I painted mine a deep crimson - fuck the Russians). These rockets
looked so realistic when launched, it was amazing - gases vented
out the sides of the rocket as it waited on the launching pad,
and when you hit the button and it took off, you could see ice
chunks falling off of it, just like the real thing, and it soared
well over a thousand feet into the air, leaving a straight white
vapor trail behind it until it was just a little dot in the sky.
These days, that Valkyrie sits on a shelf in my den collecting
dust. The FAA and Homeland Security have banned its use - apparently
a metal projectile capable of carrying a payload into the atmosphere
at a high rate of speed makes them nervous. And it seems that the
earth's ozone layer simply cannot tolerate freon being vented to
atmosphere any more. Who knew?
And now, When I sit in the den and stare at that rocket, I remember
being 9 years old and gawking at the TV with my mouth wide open
as brave men hurtled through space and landed on the moon, standing
there holding the flag and claiming that lifeless, desolate lump
for Earth. I remember the drills we had in school, getting under
our desks and covering our heads because the fucking godless commies
were going to launch an ICBM that would vaporize us any minute
now. Rockets could be used for everything good - or for evil.
 But mostly when I look at that little rocket, I remember running
through grassy fields with my brother, the sun warm and wonderful
on our faces as we chased after our gleaming aluminum spacecraft,
parachutes deploying spectacularly after yet another successful
mission to Mars. We were young and strong and it was inevitable
that we were going to conquer the solar system, nothing was going
to stop us. It was our destiny - we would be the Tom Sawyers of
space, masters of the galaxy.
Was Star Wars goofy and unrealistic? I dunno. I guess you had
to be there.
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