Peace on Earth, and else­where

Sun Sentinel Broward Edition - Showtime - South Broward - - THE GO GUIDE - Ben Cran­dell

It’s funny how a time of year so filled with joy, unity and an­tic­i­pa­tion can de­volve into time-worn de­bates about the tra­di­tions of our ob­ser­vance: who we cel­e­brate, when we cel­e­brate, how long we cel­e­brate, who­has the best toys? So un­nec­es­sary.

Full dis­clo­sure: I am a tra­di­tion­al­ist, and I ad­here to the tenets of what is con­sid­ered by many to be an out­dated or­tho­doxy. But in re­cent weeks I have con­tin­ued to share with my chil­dren the story of the first night, when the ex­is­tence of the sav­ior was first her­alded across the land. It was 1977, his name was Luke Sky­walker, and it was awesome.

Typ­i­cal of a new gen­er­a­tion, my kids ques­tion my devo­tion to such an ar­chaic story, one de­void of any­one called Darth Maul or Count Dooku, much less Kylo

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and on Twit­ter at @Ben Cran­dell Renn. There was no IMAX, I tell them, no HD. We stood in line for hours wait­ing to buy tick­ets be­cause, hon­est to god, there was no In­ter­net.

The big toy was Luke’s X-Wing Fighter (with R2-D2 fig­ure in­cluded!) that you flew, not with a but­ton on a PS4, but with your hand.

I wouldn’t call my kids non­be­liev­ers, but their skep­ti­cism is clear, as is mine over the con­tem­po­rary up­dat­ing of the story in “Star Wars: The Force Awak­ens.” And yet, we will over­come our dif­fer­ences this week­end and cel­e­brate, to­gether. Be­cause there is al­ways hope.

“Your pow­ers are weak, old man,” my son said to me the other day. Did he know he was quot­ing Darth Vader in “A New Hope”? There is al­ways hope.

Some orig­i­nal iconog­ra­phy of “Star Wars” sea­son no doubt will be on dis­play at “San­taCon 2015: The Farce Awak­ens” in down­town Fort Laud­erdale on Satur­day.

Or­ga­niz­ers of San­taCon Fort Laud­erdale, the an­nual good cheer-spread­ing bar crawl and ben­e­fit for Kids in Dis­tress that starts at 6 p.m. at Man­gos (904 E. Las Olas Blvd.), are


This is what Matzoball (it’s where Jewish sin­gles min­gle) looks like on Christ­mas Eve. Would it kill you to put on a lit­tle frank­in­cense?

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