I was seven, maybe eight years old when I saw Star Wars for the first time. It was 1977, or perhaps early 1978, and the movie was still in its first run in theaters across the country. Our Dad took my younger brother and I, and I can vividly recall the smell of the theater seats, the big tub of popcorn, and my brother getting sick and simultaneously scared to death of Darth Vader.

I’ve been a fan ever since. I’ve seen all the movies countless times, quote famous lines almost daily in my regular life, and have passed down my love of Star Wars to my brothers, nieces and nephews.

I didn’t know what Disney was planning with their new Star Wars theme park, and so I was blown away as I entered the proverbial galaxy that had always seemed so distant. The full immersion into this strange world happened right before ones eyes.

Seeing the larger than life ships of my dreams, running from dreaded stormtroopers, bellying up to the infamous Mos Eisley space bar, and even hanging with Chewbacca and Darth Vader himself was all surreal.

It was true, I’d never seen a more wretched hive of scum and villainy, and I loved every second of it.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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