A long time ago . . . I was Star-struck
In as much as I have ever grown up, I have grown up with Star Wars. Episode IV – A New Hope came out when I was 10 years old. It was the first time I’d ever cut school, to jump on the bus from Te Awamutu to Hamilton, to sit with a whooping and cheering mob, mostly also in uniform, from schools across the mighty Waikato.
Factions were forgotten as we were inducted into a new and united tribe.
The upwards scroll of blocky yellow text that would later actually earn that flogged appellation ‘‘iconic’’ didn’t mean much to us then. But the thunderous, seat shaking arrival of the Imperial Star Destroyer a moment later surely did.
We were gone. Gone into a cinema-induced reverie and rite of worship that still holds some residual power four decades down the road.
My name is Graeme Tuckett. And I love Star Wars.
The Empire Strikes Back debuted when I was about 13. I saw it, bizarrely, double-featured with The Life of Brian, at a tiny suburban cinema with my dad.
It was the last time I ever watched a movie in a theatre with either of my parents.
By the time Return of the Jedi was released in 1983, I’d left home and was living between student hostels, flea-pit flats, and friends’ couches across Hamilton East.
Somehow, that trilogy of movies had got me from dewy-faced brat to sullen and surly teenager.
Star Wars was the only constant.
So when the editor asked if I was up for a quick blast to preview a new Star Wars ride at Walt Disney World, I didn’t hesitate for a second.
Somewhere in my gut that I’d nearly forgotten was there, this trip moved me and kind of took me home (read about it on pages 4-5).
Thanks for the opportunity.