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disco jawa

a long time ago in the faraway
galaxy of my youth, my life
revolved around one nexus - Star Wars.
I was crazy for it to the point
I talked about nothing else, and
half-suspected my own two droids
would soon arrive to provide the
key to a new life of adventure.

relatives sensing how the reality of
my existence must have sucked ass
indulged my fantasy world with gifts
of Kenner figures, vehicles and playsets.
I made it understood among family
birthdays were for toys, Christmas - clothes.
a proclamation I subtly reversed
during the downtime between holidays.

I looked at all gifts not bearing
the Lucasfilm logo with utter disdain.
Star Trek I had in the highest contempt
once even threatening an aunt with my
Han Solo blaster for having the audacity to
present me with a Captain Kirk Meego doll.

twenty years and two disappointing prequels
later, paging through a collectible price
guide is exquisite torture for me.
what once was a massive collection
whittled away by time, disinterest and
an artillery of black cat firecrackers
to a lone, loosely-jointed Snaggletooth.

the disco jawa snafu especially galls me.
the vinyl-caped variant lists for $3500.
of course, leaving a toy in its package
was unthinkable at the time, but even a
loose figure would now fetch $1200 had
I not, in a fit of jealous spite brought
on by my friends' hordes of suave, cloth-
cloaked jawas, ripped off the cheesy cape
from the jawa and replaced it with a
crudely sewn swatch of brown corduroy.

but hindsight is the curse of collectors
without collections, and I'd have pawned
it for crack rock by now, anyway.

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