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My Fanboy

Welcome to my dark side!

By Kelly Sibley Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 9 min read
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https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jedi_School_…_enrol,_you_will._(1387853515).jpg

Fanboys are a breed unto themselves.

And being married to one is often… interesting.

I initially thought of writing a piece to make fun of my Fanboy, but then I realised I couldn’t. Not because of any deep seeded loyalty. Please, we’ve been married for over 20 years; it’s trench war far when it comes to who can find the biggest laugh at the other ones’ expense. No, I can’t make fun of him or Star Wars because, to my horror, I have realised I’m a Fangirl!

This downward spiral began when I was eight and saw the very first Star Wars at the Drive-In. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it changed my life. I still remember waiting in the dark for the movie to come on. Firstly, we had to sit through a film called ‘John the Seagull’, which to an eight-year-old should have just been called ‘visual torture’. I still have negative feelings towards that movie and have done everything in my power to avoid ever seeing it again.

But finally, after what felt like years of boredom (thanks to ‘John the Flipp’n Seagull’), we ate our sandwiches and drank the flask milo to mark intermission; then, at long, long last, Star Wars came on with its unforgettable yellow text and exceptional music; life was never the same! Shivering with fear as Darth Vader threatened poor Princess Leia. I held my breath when Luke was pulled under the water in the rubbish disposal unit. How could anybody forget the kiss before brother and sister (Ew!) swung out into the unknown to escape the stormtroopers? Chewbacca, Han and all the amazing visual effects blew my young mind.

After that excursion to the drive-in, my sibling and I never again played the games we had done before; they were gone, forgotten. Star Wars drew a line in the sand, and now we were Luke and Leia seeking in a desperate hunt around the neighbourhood for other kids to be Han and Chewbacca.

This revolutionary film changed the neighbourhood from playing armies, cubbies and tea parties to ‘let's play Star Wars.’ We were introduced very shortly afterwards to the merchandise!

We dressed up as Star Wars characters to go to our school’s fancy dress and dance; I still have the embarrassing photos to prove it. Our wonderful Mum painted a sky background on a sheet and hung it on my brother’s wall, where his pride and joy X-wing model, was displayed. He was also the proud owner of an A3-sized Star Wars comic, which was read devotedly by most kids in the neighbourhood. That was about it. Sadly, we were only allowed to go to the toyshop after Christmas and our birthday; regrettably, we missed out on the complete merchandise revolution that Star Wars brought forth.

This was not the case with my Fanboy, who almost cried when I told him about the comic book and original X-wing model. He still hopes one day my brother may will it to him. Not that he needs anything else. For example, when my husband first moved his belongings into my home and life, he brought three huge grey tubs with him. I was a little concerned about what they contained; thankfully, it was well before ‘Shades of Grey’ came out; if it hadn’t been, I probably would have freaked out slightly and sent him packing.

These huge tubs held something precious and dear to his heart, his Star Wars figurines. I was under strict instructions on how to handle them. In fact, the instructions were so strict that I was encouraged not to handle them. Then his surviving childhood figurines were pulled out, displayed, and discussed. Well, I say we discussed them, but really, he told me all about them in minute tedious detail. I nodded and then put his Princess Leia dolly in a compromising position with his Chewbacca dolly. (Sorry, figurine, I’ve had many ‘discussions’ about the difference between dollies and figurines.) By placing the ‘figurines’ into the aforesaid compromising position, I didn’t create the laugh I intended and was again reminded of the strict ‘handling policy’. This brought forth a sad and sorry tale of his youth.

My Fanboy desperately wishes he had a time machine, not to correct the wrongs of history or even stop world wars. No! If he ever gets a time machine, he will go back in time and smack his eleven-year-old self-senseless for taking ‘original’ Star Wars figurines into the bush and setting them on fire as well as playing with them in the dirt, the ‘Up-North’ red dirt which stains everything …red. He deeply feels his eleven-year-old self needs to be reprimanded for just playing with them, taking them out of their original packaging, and he’s more than prepared to be the provider of the discipline.

How painful and scarring the follies of youth can be upon a soul. (Insert eye-roll here!)

Now we come to the point where I fell pregnant with our first child, and my husband sat me down to talk about how he was concerned about our child’s future. When I say our child’s future, I mean our yet-to-be-born baby’s possible desire to play with Fanboys Star Wars figurines. He was very sorry, but that wouldn’t be happening. Once I explained to him that I didn’t give a damn and hopefully our offspring wouldn’t turn out to be a sad loser geek like him, we carried on happily.

The baby was born; I refused to call him Anakin or Luke, and then, six years later, my husband showed me how much he had grown as a parent and human being. The big grey tubs were opened, and our children gorged themselves. But this must be added, not before my husband had researched every figurine’s value and rarity. A small quantity was locked away for our retirement.

That day, my children were infected with Fanboy’s love of Star Wars.

I have lost count of the number of times they have been chased around the house with their little light sabres waving about as my Fanboy chased them around with his lightsabre, the one which made all the correct noises. And how delighted he is that they can now, as young adults, discuss in detail with very informed opinions, Star Wars law with him. (Whilst I roll my eyes quietly in the background.)

There are times, though, when his Fanboy love goes public.

We live in a small rural town which is just big enough for a cinema. And when the new round of Star Wars films came out, we had to be first in line. What a profoundly disappointed man stood next to me when Fanboy discovered we were third in line. My husband was so concerned; he had already chosen the seats we would occupy; what if we didn’t get them? His viewing pleasure would be utterly destroyed!

Before the doors even opened, Fanboy hatched a cunning plan. Once our tickets were bought, the kids were to scoot ahead of the other people and into the cinema, making sure to claim our seats. I was also given my instructions to run, which I happily ignored and paid the price for throughout the hour-long wait before the doors opened. The ‘discussion’ about how important it is to support each other with our dreams and ambitions speech was ignored with multiple eye rolls. Fanboy was having fun.

My children did not fulfil their father’s plan because he beat them to it. We just watched as he kicked up sparks and high-tailed it into the cinema whilst we were left to carry all our and his popcorn and drinks.

As I sat waiting for the film to begin, I realised so many Fanboys and their offspring surrounded me. I made knowing eye contact with a few wives and girlfriends; we all had the same eye-roll down pat! And I will never forget how all the Fanboys applauded when one guy came in with his young son, both dressed as Jedi Knights. My husband turned to me with a gentle smile and whispered lovingly, “See, his wife lets him dress up.” (Insert eye-roll!)

The Jedi Knight got the second round of applause when someone walked past and accidentally dropped something. The guy… sorry Jedi, picked it up and followed them, handing it back. Round of applause for a true Jedi. Who knew there were so many sad looser Star Wars Geeks in my hometown? My Fanboy was in seventh heaven; he had found his people.

And yes, I name call, but I’ll admit I’m the one who bought him the original Star Wars poster for Christmas and smuggled it to the framers. When we went to pick it up, I told him it was a massive picture of the kids and me, which I’d had personally drawn and framed, ready to hand up in our bedroom. The forced smile he gave me was nothing compared to the one that ripped his face apart on Christmas morning. For weeks, I could do no wrong.

Or maybe the time during the census when I allowed him to put our religion down as Jedi. We were among 44 thousand others in Australia and 177 thousand Brits. Goodness only knows what my descendants will think, but be assured they will know their great, great, great grandfather was a Fanboy, and their great, great, great grandmother was a pushover.

I would also like to say that I personally made his wedding day by having the Star Wars theme music play as the bridal cars pulled up. This was the only concession I was willing to make after he suggested a Star Wars-themed wedding. The bitter disappointment he felt when I refused to dress up as Princess Leia lasted for several years. Especially when he saw one of our friends officiate at a Star Wars-themed wedding.

So yes, I sadly confess, I am a Fangirl. I admit Star Wars has changed my life for the better. This film franchise has created smiles and happy times for my family, memories I treasure from childhood to those my husband built for our children. These are priceless and make me a fan of George Lucas’s creativity.

Those tubs have been refilled with Star Wars treasures. I feel sorry for our kids who will one day have to sort through all their father’s vast and encompassing collection. Hopefully, there will be some treasure buried within it all.

We are yet to hang the poster because of concern about sunlight and fading, but hopefully, a position will be found on a wall where it can be worshipped without fear of degrading.

We are still devout Jedi, and our kids still love Star Wars and have such happy lifelong memories of playing with their father because of it. I know my Fanboy looks forwards to becoming a grandfather so he can infect the third generation.

Hey, maybe one day, I may even crumple and renew our vows and let him have his Star Wars-themed wedding, me as Leia and him as Chewbacca!

May the force be with you!

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About the Creator

Kelly Sibley

I have a dark sense of humour, which pervades most of what I write. I'm dyslexic, which pervades most of what I write. My horror work is performed by Mark Wilhem / Frightening Tales. Pandora's Box of Infinite Stories is growing on Substack

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