The Night I Discovered That I Might Be Cooler Than Han Solo

9 Jul

             hs          
(for Nick Morris and Nancy S.)

The Night I Discovered That I Might Be Cooler Than Han Solo

We all know the scene. The story splashed over the internet that Harrison Ford, a few days after pulling on the old Han Solo vest, halfway through his famous catch phrase, had managed to break his goddamn leg while filming a new scene on the Millennium Falcon. “I’ve got a bad feeling about…..shit!” a friend close to the source of the space ship door which brought down the damage is reported to have overheard the elderly space smuggler groan. 

Breaking your leg while walking through a door on your own ship, a ship that’s been attached to your unique legacy almost like the wearing of one white glove helped distinguish Michael Jackson from the 80’s pop crowd, as in the way Madonna found fame by being the slut who sang about virgins, I mean, breaking your leg like that is the opposite of far far away coolness. What the Jabba just happened here? Han Solo used to be better than that.

It’d be like, if they made another Trek movie with what’s left of the original cast and Shatner showed up on the Enterprise bridge with his toupee glued to his belly and his girdle flopped over the top of his head. It’s the other way around, mate! You don’t want to do that. That’s the sort of shit that can fuck with one’s legacy. Breaking your leg on your own spaceship is the same goddamn thing.

What the fuck happened to Han Solo?! Han Solo should be able to walk around his own ship without breaking his leg, I mean that’s almost the goddamn definition of being Han Solo. You can almost hear 1970’s George Lucas at the audition table “Can you walk around ships and stuff without breaking anything? Are you racist against Wookies? Can you look bored under pressure? Yeah? You’re hired.”

We all get older. I get that. It’s ok for mortal men to break their legs against the closest thing they’ve got to their own spaceship. That shit happens. But it’s not ok to do this if you’re Han Solo. It’s like eating Viagra, there’s no shame in an aging man needing a little help with his willy. Time can be a real turn off and eating anti-limp pills is what regular guys tend to do. What you don’t want to see is Han Solo standing in line at the pharmacy with a bunch of other hung over dudes from the cantina waiting to refill his own E.D. prescription. Because Han Solo isn’t ‘regular guys’. He’s fucking Han Solo.

Han Solo’s dick shouldn’t need a life jacket to stay afloat. Han Solo’s dick should be self-stiffening. When I was a kid, I was pretty sure that Han Solo walked around the movies with a hard on crammed into his pants at all times. Not even the unlimited power of a Sith Lord could defeat a rebel erection like that.

I mean: shit. Maybe Salinger did it right. Do your thing as well as anyone’s ever done such a thing and then spend the rest of the days shunning the general public from behind the door of a really nice house. If Solo’d done this, we wouldn’t find ourselves forced into dealing with our own goddamn mortalities and the realities of this broken leg shit.

1980’s Han Solo as the smart ass who gets the girl is a pop culture god. 2014 Han Solo breaking his leg on his own ship makes you look at things differently. It’s something like this that causes one to re-evaluate every cool thing Han Solo’s ever done. Sure he got the girl at the end of the trilogy, but how cool is it really when the dude you’re competing with for the affection of said girl is her own brother? Or consider Han’s big moment with Leah at the carbonite pit. 

“I love you.” “I know.” Stop! That ‘I know’ shit was epic back when Han Solo was really Han Solo. But now I’m not so sure. She opens up and says she loves him and what’s he do? He uses her love to crack jokes, like a dick. Maybe love shouldn’t be used in such ways. (note: at this point cue stereo to play track 2 of the Invasion Of Your Privacy album by Ratt)

Never use love as a trampoline upon which to bounce smirky one-liners to the detriment of gravity and its romantic affections for the ground .

Never use love on grape fruit juice stains. It’ll just cause the juice stains to dig in deeper and once that happens you’ll never get that shit out.

Love should never be used for lots of things. It will not cure diarrhea, hypothermia, or your fucked up back. It can’t make corporations people. It can’t make Sarah Palin well informed. Nor can it make female related health care issues go away.

Never use love to cure insomnia. That’s like using spaghetti to cure pizza.

Never use love to fuck strangers. For fuck’s sake, are we not civilized? Introduce yourself to the fine lady first. That way you’re not strangers. Like Han Solo’s maybe no longer Han Solo.

Hell.

Well at least we’ve still got Obi Wan Kenobi. Now there’s a dude who aged gracefully. Bad ass to the end (or to be more specific: bad ass, long Salinger-esk self-isolation period, bad ass to the end). I’m gonna try to be more like him maybe.

Do you hear that Helen?! In this big lightsaber duel with your absence, your love for me’s death will not kill me. It will only make me more powerful than you could ever imagine!

And like Obi Wan, Helen, I can sense things, like now, a disturbance in the force, as if another man is currently fucking you in your Alderan.

But(t): Alderan was a peaceful planet!

Not anymore, Helen. You fucking Death Star. You goddamn space opera.

Why the hell would you let another guy land there? I mean, the place is destroyed now.

Did you even stop to think about what a thing like this might do to Jimmy Smits?

 

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