STAR WARS CONFESSION 1: OF LUCAS AND SPIELBERG
Posted on December 13, 2015
I envy J. J. Abrams. He has the life I fantasized about as a kid. He gets to play with George Lucas's toys. He gets to weave new tales about a galaxy far, far away.
As a child, STAR WARS loomed large. I was never the same after it. I took to building funky spaceships using hot glue and random model airplane parts. I wanted to one day build spaceships and design aliens that would soar through the cosmic vistas that Mr. Lucas gifted to the world. Ice planets, desert planets, the man could make any hostile place feel like a number one destination spot for any twelve-year-old alive and kicking in the seventies and eighties.
And the creator of LOST gets to work his magic with the Millennium Falcon and Chewbacca and Han Solo and all those wickedly cool T.I.E. fighters.
Now I hear he's snatched up another one of my childhood desires. This week, amid the media pr blitz that is the tsunami-sized build up to the new STAR WARS film, I found out that Steven Spielberg counts him as one of his beloved chums.
Does the man want to pillage all of my youthful icons from me?
Now he's hobnobbing with the man who brought us Indy?
I always pictured myself meeting Steven Spielberg. It was one of the benchmarks I established for myself early on. I wanted to write and garner praise from two famous people: Piers Anthony and Steven Spielberg. I can proudly say that one of those creators has indeed read my works and sent me lovely write-ups about my efforts. And receiving that recognition from the brainchild of Xanth is a wonderful high point in my life. But my encounter with Steven Spielberg still eludes me.
Something I dreamed about when I was a wee teen was that my creations, the characters I wrote and drew, would catch the attention of Mr. Spielberg. In my little head, I didn't envision Steven and I becoming friends until later in life. I knew my ideas as a high schooler were not of merit, but that I would one day create something that would attract the esteemed director's eye.
I had a recurring dream that started when I was in high school and has cropped up here and there in my sleep to this day. In the dream, one of my books has gotten hugely popular and I'm having dinner at Mr. Spielberg's house. My wife is with me and Steven's wife is there as well. Now let me tell you, the thrill of sitting down to dine is made even better that Kate Capshaw is there, too. Upon watching her in peril alongside Indiana Jones, my younger self was smitten with her and she's tickled my fancy ever since. The thought of eating dinner with her further adds to the giddy feel of the dream. I never recall details about the meal or much of the conversation. I do know Steven talks a great deal about my work and the dinner concludes with him stating how he wants to direct the film version of a particular project of mine. I also recall that the dinner table is glass and that I can see my legs and feet throughout the meal. That's about it.
Anyway, that old dream still dusts itself off in my subconscious every once and a while and I am immediately sucked into a dinner party that stirs warm feelings inside me.
I wonder if J.J. Abrams has been invited over for dinner with the Spielbergs, and, if he has, does he steal glances at the captivating Mrs. Spielberg when he's not looking down and through the dinner table?
Next: I Confess to Watching Star Wars in the theater and not paying for it. That criminal act brought to you by my father.