The first Star Wars film was released the year after I was born, so I never got to see it in theaters originally. My introduction to Star Wars came in the form of a VCR and a—possibly bootlegged—VHS tape. I say “possibly bootlegged,” because from what I understand today, Lucasfilm didn’t release the Original Trilogy for sale until long after I’d begun my association with the Galaxy Far, Far Away. The minute I watched the first film, it was like a supernova exploding in my consciousness. The movie was beyond thrilling with its space battles, menacing villains, and likable collection of heroes. Its themes of good versus evil resonated with a boy who was developing a strong sense of justice. I became instantly consumed with everything Star Wars. Any artifact, toy, clothing, or bed sheets I could get my hands on with the Star Wars logo was a treasure to me. The toys especially were a gateway into my imagination as I continued the adventures of Luke, Han, Leia and their friends. My favorite toy in the arsenal was the Millennium Falcon. By the end of my childhood, it looked just as rundown and beat up as it had in the films.