Tuesday, October 14, 2014

There are some great things about having an older brother. Lots of great things. He can pick you up from school before you are old enough to drive. He has cute friends that are always around. He passes down some awesome dinosaur hand-me-down pajamas.

My brother is pretty great. All of those things above were true. He also was the worship leader for our youth group for  few years, tried to be patient enough to teach me guitar as I mentioned before, played guitar for some songs I wrote before I could play too, gave me a much wider appreciation for music that I'd otherwise have, and gave me a black eye....oh, I mean...how did that get on this list?

One thing that wasn't so awesome, although I'm almost positive it's worse in my memory bank than in reality, was his reign over after school movie choices. While I would have chosen Disney or Feature Family Films like The Buttercream Gang (anyone? anyone?), my brother was living on a solid diet of The Princess Bride and Star Wars.

Now, don't get me wrong, both the story of Wesley and Buttercup and the saga of Luke and Leia are magnificent, important works of cinematic achievement. And, after several years of detox, I actually have a deep love and appreciation for The Princess Bride. I even own a copy and choose to watch it at least once a year. Star Wars however, though valuable in its own right and worthy of the honor of the historic fame it has garnered, is not on my list of regularly chosen films. I can't remember the last time I watched one of the originals...and I haven't seen episode 3 ever. 1 and 2 were painful enough. And yet, one note of that epic music brings the whole saga flooding back. The yellow text scrolling through space setting the stage for a galaxy far, far away, the awkward, ambiguous brother-sister relationship, that gigantic snotball Jabba The Hut. All of it...rushing over me like a tidal wave. It's hard to deny one's early education.

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