Like My Father before Me

May 25, 1983, was hands-down one of the best days of my childhood. I was seven years old, and I was in the second grade. I don't have too many memories of this year of school other than the recollection that my second-grade teacher terrified me.

On this particular day, my dad woke up my older brother and me at 5 in the morning, but I didn't mind because he got us both out of school for the day and drove us to downtown Salt Lake City to line up for tickets for the first showing of Episode VI, Return of the Jedi, in Utah.

Back in the day, this was how things were done for movie premieres.

As much as my second-grade teacher terrified me, Jabba the Hutt and many of the slimy creatures who inhabited his palace frightened me even more. Nevertheless, I was on the edge of my seat throughout the entire film, and I rejoiced as Luke, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Lando Calrissian, and their Rebel friends, with aid from the cute and loveable Ewok teddy bears, took down the evil Empire.

The experience of my dad actually excusing me from school for the day to share this moment along with my older brother and me was as important to my childhood as was the experience of seeing the movie itself and the bragging rights of doing so before any of my friends and classmates were able to.

Thirty-two years and seven months to the day later, I finally had the opportunity to return the favor for Dad. Due to circumstances beyond his or ours or anyone else's control, he's in a place right now where I had to check him out for the day, just as he had gotten me out of my second-grade classroom. The irony was not lost on me.

We spared no expense on concessions as together we enjoyed a Christmas Day viewing of Episode VII, The Force Awakens, the long-awaited sequel to that movie indelibly engraven as an important part of my growing-up years.

Star Wars: It's a father-son, ruling-the-galaxy thing.