The following is an updated version of a column that first appeared in the May 12, 2005 edition of the Citizen, shortly before the last Star Wars movie debuted in theatres:
The Star Wars watch hasn't had a battery in it for more than 30 years. Don't even know if it works anymore.
When it did work, it was so cool for a 10-year-old boy in 1978. Elvis was dead and Luke Skywalker was the new king. The watch was a birthday gift - a first-generation digital watch that could only show the time, the seconds on a separate screen and the date on a third screen.
It displayed the characters in Darth Vader light-sabre red, meaning you couldn't see the numbers under sunlight but it was great in the dark.
The watch was a welcome companion to the Star Wars bed sheets, the Star Wars action figures, the 12-inch Luke Skywalker action figure with grappling hook and the X-Wing fighter with a button on top to get the laser-fire sound as you destroyed the Death Star to save the universe yet again. The Empire Strikes Back blanket and the Yoda lamp would come later.
The same 10-year-old boy lives on, trapped inside an aging model of thinning hair and thickening midsection. I still have the watch and the Star Wars fever. Not long ago, my mother gave me a gift as precious as Ben Kenobi giving Luke the lightsaber wielded by his father in the clone wars. She returned my original Star Wars bed sheets.
I'll be easy to spot at The Force Awakens because I'll be wearing my Jedi Training Academy hoodie (Honor! Tradition! Learn the ways of the Force!).
I'll also be towing along my 19-year-old daughter and my 13-year-old stepson.
The most wonderful benefit of Star Wars is how it crosses generations. As a responsible father, it was my duty to introduce Claire to Star Wars when she was seven and to take her with me to Revenge of the Sith when it opened in theatres in 2005. For most of her childhood, Christmas meant it was time for the annual viewing of the original Star Wars trilogy (the next three were optional and often avoided), as well as the Lord of the Rings trilogy (extended editions, of course).
All that time together, as father and daughter and with the Star Wars films, have created a common vocabulary: "No, I am your father," "I find your lack of faith disturbing," "I've got a bad feeling about this," "That's no moon, that's a space station!" "Do or do not - there is no try" and "Jedi think you are? Hmm!"
It's different with Drayden. He was eight when we first met and already too cool for Star Wars. I was willing to overlook this serious lapse in parenting by his beautiful mother, focusing on wearing down his resistance, attracting him to the power of the Force.
Finally, last year, I was successful, aided by the growing buzz around The Force Awakens. He enjoyed them but it was the new Star Wars Battlefront video game that cemented his adoration.
Regardless of the quality of the films or how the world has changed so much since the original trilogy, watching Star Wars brings the 10-year-old boy back to life. I am young again, one with my children. The sights, the sounds, the wooden dialogue and the corny romance are fresh and new. My eyes widen during the light-sabre duels, seen for both the first and the fiftieth time. My heart pounds and my breathing quickens as the 20th Century Fox logo and music fade and the fateful words "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." appear on screen.
Before the sweeping title theme and the scrolling text appear, I hope to check the time on my Star Wars watch. Hopefully, the Force permitting, the red digits will wink back at me.
The circle will be complete.
