Amongst all the financial horror and upheaval, the weirdest bright spot sprouted when I watched the original Star Wars trilogy again. The reason to watch them was that my girlfriend, Sara, had never seen them. Of course, being the sci-fi geek that I am I couldn’t let that stand.
Getting her to watch the trilogy was something of an accomplishment actually, as she, as far as medical professionals can tell, is allergic to spaceships. We got through the first one with Sara thinking it was okay – she especially liked ‘C3D2’ – and with that hurdle cleared we embarked on The Empire Strikes back, which I was confident in her liking as it is still the best Star Wars film. About 15 minutes in something novel yet almost unbelievable occurred to me; it concerned Sara’s popular culture knowledge, or rather her quite impressive obliviousness to knowledge of popular culture (for instance, she didn’t know that being ‘turned to the dark side’ was a Star Wars reference). I asked her in a gentle and non-leading way what she knew about Darth Vader. Sensing a trap she looked at me like she was a little scared (justifiably as I pop quiz her about many things sci-fi so I can decry her unfair bias against it) and said, in all seriousness, something about him never having been on Star Trek (she had failed a similar question a few days before). It then fully dawned on me that she didn’t know Darth Vader was Luke’s father.
Wow. Consider how hard it is to live on this planet for almost 30 years and not know that.
So I got to watch her look in disbelief at the screen when the immortal words were spake. I got to listen to her gasp, just a little, and say under her breath, ‘No… surely not… not really?’
A rare experience I would imagine. And as geeky as it was for me, I actually quite liked it. It amazes and astounds me that I managed to find and fall in love with one of the few people on the planet that didn’t know Darth’s little secret. It’s like some weird reward from the sci-fi gods for all my faithful service.