Why Avatar is Making Americans Stupid

For the record, I like Avatar. I thoroughly enjoyed James Cameron’s latest opus throughout its two and a half hours of visual onslaught. Avatar is a beautiful, bright, shiny and relatively mindless film, similar to many other things Americans love. It has turned out to be one of those “event” movies which draw people to theaters who do not normally go, similar to Cameron’s previous effort Titanic and another modern classic, Home Alone. Not admitting to paying for Home Alone? You lie! As a society, we tend to jump on the proverbial bandwagon when a story gets so absolutely huge it is nearly impossible to avoid conversing about it. We do this with the Super Bowl, American Idol, Snuggies and especially politics. It’s interesting as long as it’s interesting to everyone else. When everyone else has officially thrown the subject into “lameness” (see Home Alone, Barack Obama), the follower does the same. In the case of Avatar, however, succumbing to the hype might be more dangerous than Dick Cheney stuck on Pandora.

The main appeal of Avatar lies in the groundbreaking cinematography and 3-D camerawork, the likes of which has never been seen in the history of cinema. The last year or so has seen several films test the 3-D waters in anticipation of Cameron’s movie. A remake of My Bloody Valentine, the Neil Gaiman scripted Coraline, Monsters Vs Aliens and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs showed the appeal - and lack thereof – 3D technology presents. Coraline and “Meatballs” did well in theaters showing the traditional, 2-D versions as well as the enhanced product. “Valentine” was strictly and exercise in scaring in 3-D and it achieved its modest expectations. Monsters Vs Aliens was predicted to be one of the biggest blockbusters of 2009, yet failed to yield big numbers. “Monsters” was the first film of the modern 3-D era to have been filmed with the sole intent of selling the 3-D version. The film featured many scenes designed with the idea that audiences love STUFF FLYING IN THEIR FACE VERY FAST. It did not occur to the producers audiences, even children, might value plot in an era of Pixar masterpieces. Instead, MORE STUFF FLYING EVEN FASTER IN A MORE MONOTONOUS WAY THAN THE FIRST TIME. Repeat. Repeat. END OF FILM. Interestingly, DreamWorks Studio did not hype the DVD release of “Monsters” as much as one would expect from a big budget animated film. Perhaps the upcoming 3-D Shrek movie in 2010 foretells more than the company would care to let on.

The 3-D technology in Avatar is far superior than any used in the aforementioned films. Unlike DreamWorks, Cameron knew the film had to stand on its own from a directorial and traditional 2-D viewpoint. There is little argument left as to if he succeeded. Avatar will gross more than a billion dollars, enough cash to liberate oppressed civilizations in the real world. Cameron also spent the last ten years or so developing an executing the project. He had total control over the film and chose to stake his career on Avatar’s success or failure. Avatar’s triumph, commercially and critically, has thrown the entertainment media into a 3-D frenzy. But has Avatar’s success doomed not only the film industry but also the economic recovery of America?

The admission price to the 3-D Avatar at my local movie house was thirteen bucks, a five-dollar increase from the normal eight-dollar charge. My Adam Koeppe simple math shows a 39 percent extra dip into the pocketbook to see the film in glorious 3-D. I don’t know about you boys and girls, but that’s a hefty price jack where I come from. For a family of four that’s twenty extra bucks. At least the popcorn didn’t come with 3-D salt and butter. Although worth it, the Avatar experience is a spendy one for many Americans. The fallout from Avatar’s success has shown a public hungry for more. ESPN has recently announced they will produce a 3-D sports channel which will show the 2010 World Cup. The media salivates.
SOCCER! 3-D!
3-D! SOCCER! WORLD CUP!
YEAH!!!

As the public celebrates the upcoming development of 3-D television, nobody has bothered to ask the question: What will 3-D soccer look like? Will it enhance the experience so much that the channel is worth subscribing to (believe me, true believers, they’re gonna charge) and also purchasing one of the handful of ginormous TV’s capable of broadcasting said soccer games? Currently, the general opinion of the public is yes. Because everything is going to look as cool as Avatar. This general euphoria is convincing many TV manufacturers to furiously work of a way to present 3-D images without having to don those stylish shades. Without a doubt, they will succeed. The potential of selling millions of TV’s to a public that has recently forked over a few paychecks for HD widescreens is far too tempting to resist. Efforts are underway to remake classic films such as Star Wars to fit the format. As if buying the Star Wars films on VHS, remastered on VHS, extended on VHS, on DVD unextended, DVD extended, and Blu-Ray unextended and extended. That’s not even accounting for how many times people saw them in the movie theater. When my Adam Koeppe simple math adds this up, that’s more than 300 bucks spent on the same bloody films! Yet many are hungry for more. Is the 3-D Star Wars going to have Luke’s hand fly in my face when Darth Vader whacks it off? Will it give me the feeling of AT-AT’s stomping on to my sofa? Will the Cantina scene give me the feeling of an intergalactic dance party right in my own house? Answer I will, young consumers. No.

A 3-D reimagining (or whatever you want to call it) of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings or the Matrix will just give you a visual experience similar to that of the old Viewmaster discs: a super-position of one image in front of the other. That’s it. The films were made with a 2-D wall. I’m sure the geniuses in charge will try to make the jump into hyperspace more trippy but is that worth the purchase of an entire new entertainment system? A few thousand bucks to see a few enhanced segments? The current consensus is yes. We want to see STAR WARS AVATAR! LORD OF THE RINGS AVATAR! MATRIX AVATAR! SAW AVATAR! HANGOVER AVATAR! HAROLD AND KUMAR AVATAR! Americans have always been in love with possibility more than reality and having as opposed to having not. There is little evidence suggesting the 3-D craze will be any different.

My magic crystal dodgeball stares into the future and sees a few unfortunate blows to the financial groin. Many Americans will go into super-nasty credit card debt to become a super-cool 3-D household. This type of TV upgrade is not cheap and there are very few who can honestly afford it, considering they are still paying off their 60-inch plasmas. Yet millions will buy, unfortunately proving our society has learned absolutely nothing about financial restraint in the face of economic hardship. Laid off from a secure job? WHO CARES? 3-D! Retirement eradicated by Wall Street? WHO CARES? 3-D!! Your children’s college education? 3-D! 3-D!! Over the top, blowhard attitudes are exactly what thrust our country into our economic mess. Real estate for profit? 3-D! Debt? What debt? 3-D!!!

Most important, companies will use this lunacy to bombard our despised banks with requests for loans on unproven products. Despite wanted or unwanted regulation, lenders will be pushed into billions of dollars of lending to finance the production of these electronics. Imagine, if you will: a cell-phone company wants fifty million dollars to develop the first 3-D smart phone. That’s crazy, the loan officer replies. Who wants to watch a 3-D image smaller than a baseball card? Contrary to popular sanity, that loan will happen. Who’s going to say no to 3-D!! I’d stake my entire 3-D baseball card collection on it. Believe it or not, I have quite a few.

There will be at least one movie studio that will also believe this fallacy. The grand poobahs will decree they will make the biggest, largest, most-bestest 3-D movie ever! They will hire a crack team of fifty writers to write it. They will hire a great director like Brett Ratner, McG or Michael Bay to make it so. They’ll be more people involved in this production than the Olympics. It will be re-written by James Patterson, James Frey and the band James. It will be about some big thing that has yet to be big enough so it has to be bigger – in 3-D! It will be bigger than life! Big! Big! Big! And it will fail. Horribly. Horribly, horribly. Heaven’s Gate failed and who could have doubted Michael Cimino’s talent after The Deer Hunter? The concept of Cinemascope failed with Cleopatra, directed by Joseph Mankiewicz who helmed films such as All About Eve. When the 3-D movie of doom strikes, it will be harsh. Cleopatra came close to destroying 20th Century Fox. The failure of Heaven’s Gate bankrupted United Artists. The 3-D hype will destroy at least one company, possibly more.

Remember 8-tracks? Beta-max? Mini-discs? Laser-discs? TurboGraphix-16? Dreamcast? You don’t? You Lie! We’ve all invested our money in something that didn’t pan out be it technology or even a relationship. For all our enthusiasm, there still has to be something – or someone to blame for the fallout. There are few people who have the testicular fortitude to admit they were wrong. I still thing the Sega Dreamcast kicks major butt over PS2, Game Cube and Xbox. Someone usually has to take the fall because it sure wasn’t our fault.

When 3-D busts, the movie studios will do what they do best: blame someone else. They’ll drag Sean Astin, the fat hobbit himself, back on the Academy Awards telling why piracy is still the scourge of the film industry – even after successes like Avatar. Americans who spent buttloads of money on 3-D televisions and DVD players that are the equivalent of Atari 5200s will do what they do best: blame someone else. Maybe we will blame the President, whoever he or she may be. Maybe we’ll blame the companies who sold us this 3-D super-awesome stuff because it wasn’t that super-fantastically-awesome. We might blame our kids who wanted it all so bad for Christmas we had to mortgage the house to provide it. We might even blame Satan for our debt. It’s a better alternative than reality. From the days of the crusades to the days of colonization to the days of the Gold Rush, it’s never our fault when the tide turns.

When we fail, it is in our nature to push the “reset” button. Just one more chance and we can do it a little better. We seriously need to stop this. Life has no reset and there are no guarantees of extra chances. Sometimes the movie sucks, the concert blows or the love affair wasn’t meant to be. Failures, as hard as they come, need to be admitted and learned from. If we don’t, we’re just another footnote in an never-ending addendum of excuses. If we embrace 3-D, we learn nothing from economics. We are just pushing “rewind,” expecting the movie to end better. Eventually, the film stops and there is a blank screen. What happens next? The remote – and your life – is in your hands.

AIDS, Crack and Michael Jackson

“It takes a long time to put on my face, but I like how different it feels. I can be in a whole ‘nother place with it. Sometime I wear it home, and people – kids – I look out the back window of a car and let them see me. Whoa, they get frightened! They don’t know who or what it is! It’s a trip, it’s really a trip. It’s a secret; that’s it. I like that it’s a secret.” Michael Jackson discussing “The Wiz” to Timothy White in 1977.

God, that picture looks freaky. Michael Jackson’s mugshot, taken in November of 2003, taken due to felony child molestation charges (of which he was universally acquitted), shows the singer without any of the lighting, airbrushing, or accoutrements he had become accustomed to when he was photographed. The photograph shows a man who looks less like an icon and more like an extra in the “Thriller” video, if it was shot by George Romero or Danny Boyle. For one of the few times in his adult life, Jackson was in a situation he had little or no control over. His eyes are bug-eyed, lips unsure of their proper placement, it seems he had little knowledge or concept of why he was being arraigned and even less on how he should conduct himself. It may have only started to dawn upon the superstar that he was indeed guilty of one particular incident: being Michael Jackson.

The late Timothy White was able to land one of the last interviews with Michael Jackson before his ascent to mega-stardom with his 1979 album “Off the Wall.” White was given massive access to Jackson, including a luncheon in which Jackson displayed such bizarre behavior as eating his Caesar Salad with his fingers, oblivious to the “oily dressing accumulating on the tablecloth.” Jackson would also admit to not knowing Gerald Ford had been president. It became apparent to White that Jackson had little touch with the real world, except when it came to music and dance, of which he was a prodigy in the vein of Mozart. When asked if he was scared of being in a movie, Jackson responded “No, not at all. Honest to God, I’m not. I’m challenged. I love it. I’m not scared at all.”

Despite his childlike demeanor, Jackson had already developed the self-confidence that would propel him through three classic records, music videos, and tours, during which he developed some of the most amazing dance moves of his (or any) era. He also expressed interest in working with Quincy Jones, the man who would eventually produce “Off the Wall,” “Thriller,” and “Bad.” However, when distracted with other topics, Jackson revealed a bizarre affinity for rats, his inability to understand “Star Wars” and an obsessive interest in his Scarecrow character from “The Wiz.” Jackson told White: “Sometimes, when I come home with my makeup, I keep dancing in front of the mirrors here as the Scarecrow…When I get into it, I forget everything else but the Scarecrow’s world. It’s a feeling of peace. It’s just like…magic.”

Soon after this interview, White believed Michael Jackson’s management severely curtailed media access to the star, as his eccentricities could easily overshadow his music, as the 2003 documentary, “Living with Michael Jackson” would ultimately confirm. When focused on music and dance, Jackson had no peer. His videos for the 1979 “Off the Wall,” made before the advent of MTV, show the singer in a plain black and white tuxedo and beginning the formation of the dance moves which would excite millions. However, he had started the process of reinventing himself physically, a habit that became so addicting it would become an object of continual ridicule. Jackson’s death at age fifty represents the apotheosis of media hypocrisy. The same media which would continually cover everything “Wacko Jacko” now worships him. It seems this musical Julius Caesar will not be buried, but praised in his wake.

The success of both “Off the Wall” and “Thriller” netted Michael Jackson more money than anyone with a child-like mind could really comprehend. He also began an infatuation with being a hero of some sort. His personas in the “Beat It” and “Bad” videos showed him a cross between badass and peacemaker, a kind of dancing Superman. He further expanded his concept in the “Captain EO” film and the “Moonwalker” video game, the former being ironically executive produced by George Lucas. Although he would adapt many other guises, it seems Jackson was more comfortable in the idol-hero guise than any other. He took this to an extreme measure at the end of his 1991 “Black or White” video, when he violently destroys the majority of the street set. It is possible he was reacting to many of the anti-heroes of the time, trying to be as badass as many of the hair bands that were in constant MTV rotation during the era (insert ironic comment here).

Jackson spent much of the 1980’s working with charities, a fact that is still relatively unnoticed by the now-adoring media. Initially, his projects such as “We Are the World,” written for the USA for Africa album, we taken as universally generous gestures. As the 1980’s waned, his purchase and construction of the Neverland Ranch gained more scrutiny, as the majority of young children he asked to visit and stay there consisted of mostly young boys. Jackson seemed completely oblivious to this criticism except in song. Songs such as “Leave Me Alone,” “Stop Pressuring Me” and “Scream” addressed his antipathy towards the press. Yet Jackson refused to modify or control the behaviors which netted him such massive scrutiny. There is little doubt of Jackson’s affinity toward childhood and the wide-eyed hope and wonder which comes with it. It is hard to compare this attitude with that of the savvy musician and businessman who outbid his onetime friend Paul McCartney for the Beatles catalog. Was he really clueless or was he addicted to being two Michael Jacksons?

There is the performing Michael, the self-anointed “King of Pop” who causes sold out crowds of adults to scream wildly during his concerts. There is “Peter Pan” Michael, the real-life Willy Wonka who gave thousands of children a golden ticket to his private castle. The superhero who longed to protect and help guide child stars like Emmanuel Lewis and Macaulay Culkin possessed little knowledge on how to protect himself was becoming an addict to an ever-evolving identity he could never settle on. Part of growing up is discovering who you are; the person you present yourself to be in the public eye. Children tend to decide upon this in adolescence. They spin “The Breakfast Club” wheel and become some version of the athlete, the princess, the brain, the basket case or the criminal. For some tragic reason, Michael Jackson could never make this decision for himself. In the end, he would become all of them.

Jackson’s lack of real-world comprehension outside of music and dance would ultimately become terminal. His 1993 civil settlement for alleged child molestation caused the star to enter into a marriage with Lisa Marie Presley; a union now considered an ill-conceived business arrangement. Presley’s presence at Neverland gave the impression of normalcy, as did his “You Are Not Alone” video which showed both of them scantily clad and supposedly in love. Business marriages of this type were common in old Hollywood, designed to stop any investigation of what were then considered “alternative lifestyles.” The marriage was supposed to be mutually beneficial. Jackson could still be the Peter Pan of Neverland while Presley could milk his massive genius for the music success which eluded her. Unfortunately, the decade was the 1990’s and not the 1930’s or 50’s. The marriage ended in a few years, leaving Jackson another void in his life.

Jackson entered into another ill-fated marriage with Debbie Rowe, who would bear the first two of his three children. The second union dissolved as quickly as the first, putting him back into the media spotlight with mounting “Wacko Jacko” coverage. Jackson attempted to escape the publicity in the only was the businessman knew how: a series of concerts at Madison Square Garden in 2001 celebrating his thirty years as a solo artist. The concerts, as always, were phenomenal. His performance of his classic hit “Billie Jean” showed he hadn’t lost a step, despite entering his early forties. During this time, Jackson would experience the first commercial disappointment of his career. The album “Invincible” sold poorly. The videos showed an artist searching for identity which was compounded that he had little grasp on reality itself. He never stopped inviting children to Neverland or on tour, despite incessant coverage of his actions. Like a child, he never thought of the potential ramifications or if he did, was comfortable in his own mind that he was doing nothing wrong.

It is likely Michael Jackson did know the police watched him everyday. He also knew he was doing nothing legally wrong. He placed the same trust in children as they did of him; an innocent longing to be in a place he was denied by his overbearing, abusive father. It would be hard for a person such as Jackson to deny and distrust the affection of kids. It is likely in 1993 he committed minimally the crime of indecent exposure. After he became a media magnet for weirdness, it is harder to believe the 2003 accuser had more than financial gripes against him. It was easy to believe he did it: he was Michael Jackson – King of Weird. Yet his behavior at the trial, baby dangling and calling his third child “Blanket” on TV did little to help the man. In the end, addiction overcame any sense of reality he had left.

As Michael Jackson entered into a self-imposed exile for much of the last decade, it seems he finally found the childhood affection that he had been denied. He did little performing but the headlines by his posthumous media friends never subsisted. Having his own children may have given the “King of Pop” a sense of peace and fulfillment, but the call of the limelight still beckoned. Whether it was to appease debtors or his millions of fans, Jackson decided to embark on one more great tour. What exactly caused his death weeks before his London engagement began may never be solved. What is known is that a complex, troubled man with a schizophrenic identity had little to lose and much to gain. He was a person who longed to be a hero, a “smooth criminal,” a genius, the best dancer in the universe and ultimately became a basket case due to the media coverage he helped create. Michael Jackson didn’t start the fire, but he did little (if anything) to fight it.

Copyright 2009 Adam Koeppe

Timothy White's Michael Jackson interview published in "Rock Lives"

All I Want For Christmas Is...(Part Three)

“We are spirits in the material world” – The Police
“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz” – Janis Joplin
“All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” – Spike Jones
“Gimme Gimme Gimme” – ABBA

Everybody wants something – it’s just human nature. Even Gandhi wanted a robe. With the economy at the mercy of the Incredible Hulk in an extra-poopy mood and Mr. Burns taking over the body of a real, live old guy (Bernard Madoff), it’s hard to ask for that one special present when so many may go without. However, most of us will be getting something and I don’t think it’s too out of line for those of us who are going to get gifts to have the gumption to request something we really want. Not any of that “world peace”, “universal harmony” or “stop polluting mother earth” jargon – I’m talking about stuff. Tangible, yummy, feel good about yourself stuff. As we get older, we tend to ask for less and get that indispensable gift which looks perfect next to the Chia-Pet at next summer’s garage sale. It isn’t the gift-giver’s fault that they gave you a George Foreman Grill, a Ginsu Knife set or a DVD of the worst movie of the year (“The Love Guru” – it’s what I always wanted!). The fault lies solely with our humility. If we do not ask, we are doomed to receive what our family and friends think we want. Geez, have we forgotten what it’s like to be a kid at Christmas?

It’s time to channel that “inner Linus” again and remember what Christmas was all about. Who doesn’t remember the arrival of the J.C. Penny Christmas Catalog and the Sears Wishbook in the mailbox? These sacred documents contained everything you could possibly desire, accompanied by full color pictures showcasing material enlightenment. I would peruse these catalogs endlessly, folding pages and marking toys that would make my Christmas day. Obviously, many expectations were unrealistic. Nobody really expects to get a Lionel train, a track-racing set, TOPPS baseball cards and a Nintendo. But it was a wonderful feeling to dream of the possibility. Santa would usually make some of our dreams come true – with a little help from Mom and Dad.

Somewhere in the process of growing up, many of us lost this fantasy, preferring to receive monetary gifts to spend as we please. For two decades, I subscribed to this philosophy. I liked money (who doesn’t) and enjoyed getting the opportunity to buy things myself. However, as time went by, I realized I had lost something. I no longer had the feeling that my family knew me well enough to give me anything besides the cash I’d been requesting since I was 12. I forgot how great the feeling was of someone knowing you well enough that they could get you a cool gift without incessant prodding. Instead, I began an annual holiday purchase known as “the Christmas gift to myself.” After all, at least I knew what I wanted. Last year, my gift was “the Von Erich Family Board Game”, which combined the excitement of pro-wrestling with a cribbage board. Sound fun? Hey, at least it looks good on display. Don’t get all “distorting the vision of Linus” on me, I know many of you do this too. I decided to suspend my “Christmas gift to myself” this year with hope someone will actually find it in their hearts to tell dear old Santa what good little Adam wants for Christmas. That said, I’ve made my list and checked it twice. I know I’m a little bit naughty, but I hope I’ve been a little bit nice. Family, the choice is yours.

Muppet memorabilia made before Jim Henson’s death. I’m a huge fan of the “Muppet Show.” One of my fondest childhood memories was being taken to an exhibit of the Muppets by my aunt. I must have been five or so at the time but I still remember being in awe of the world Jim Henson created. I’d like anything from glasses to actual muppets. I have a copy of the “Muppet Show” board game. Other than that, my collection is pretty empty. I had a colorform set once, but it’s long since gone. There was plenty of Muppet product in the 1970’s and any relic of this magic time would be a joy. Beware, the EBay listings are longer than this year’s housing foreclosures.

Literary plates/etchings. When I was going to college in St. Cloud, a bookstore in town had an 80-year old book of Dante’s Inferno with illustrated plates. I didn’t have the money to buy it then (20 bucks!) and regret it still. I also would like a nice, old copy of William Blake’s “Songs of Innocence and Experience” with full depictions of Blake’s plates that accompanied the poems. The older, the better.

A stuffed “Bill the Cat”. Made about twenty years ago with a disclaimer that Bill would fall apart if touched. I’ve always been a big “Bloom County” fan and a stuffed “Bill” would complete my collection. If I get it, I’ll put Bill on top of the Christmas tree instead of the star. Seriously, I promise.

A U.S. Senate Seat. I know this is reaching, but a guy’s gotta dream. An action figure of “The Stay-Puft Marshmellow Man” would be a good substitute.

The Millennium Falcon. This is the one item I would have bought for myself, but I refuse to purchase it. I’ve wanted a Millennium Falcon for 28 years now but Santa passes me by. Everyone has that one present they never received. Be it an Easy Bake Oven, a Malibu Barbie or an Exorcist Elmo, there is one gift for everyone that has yet to be received. Without doubt or exception, this is mine. My parents tried very hard to get me a Falcon when I was young. In 1980, it was all I asked for, but it was the hottest toy in the world. In a time before Amazon and EBay, parents had to find a toy at a store in order to buy it for their children. My parents assumed they didn’t need to order from a catalog, which was usually used for specialty items like the aforementioned baseball cards and train sets. As Christmas came closer, they couldn’t find a Millennium Falcon at any local store. The fastest ship in the galaxy was a hot item and the most desirable toy in the “Star Wars” universe. Money wasn’t an issue, but locating the Falcon was. My parents left one night in pursuit of it, only to come home from several suburban toy stores tired and discouraged. Being good parents, they broke the news to me that Han Solo’s ship was nowhere to be found. But they had every intention of making their little boy happy on Christmas. Under the tree, there was a gigantic, rectangular box. When it came time, I unwrapped it with anticipation. It had to be something from “Star Wars.” They were they only toys I wanted. What could it be? An AT-AT? An X-Wing Fighter? A Wompa? I tore apart the wrapping paper like a carnivore, my heart beating and mind flashing maybe – just maybe – there was a Millennium Falcon. As the paper was torn apart, I saw a gigantic “Star Wars” logo. As the wrapping was removed, I held in my hands the coveted “Rebel Transport” ship.

What? What is this? It’s big but it looks like a giant torpedo. The obviously expensive toy in my hands made me cold. This wasn’t what I wanted and I was pretty sure I didn’t ask for it. The “Rebel Transport?” The ship the rebel alliance used to flee Darth Vader on the planet Hoth, it didn’t exactly inspire imaginative play. Let’s create one of the saddest scenes in “Empire!” You, too can flee the evil empire with your rag-tag group of action figures that don’t figure into the plot. Luke and R2? They took off to Dagobah to find Yoda. Han, Leia, Chewie and C3PO? They were on the Millennium Falcon. Not much left to play with. Just an over-expensive case for action figures. I knew my parents had the best of loving intentions with their gift and I played with it the best I could. One day later, my sole enjoyment from the Rebel Transport was miraculously being able to put the front and back panels back together. Fly, white turd, fly! If only it was that enjoyable.

Decades later, Hasbro has released several commemorative “Star Wars” toys. Last year, I bought my son, Shane a TIE-Fighter with detachable wings. Similar to the classic 80’s toy down to the inability to open the cockpit without breaking it, Shane and I had hours of fun staging battles. Surprisingly, it’s still intact and ready for another fight. In 2008, Hasbro released their most ambitious “retro” toy: you guessed it – a Millennium Falcon! Not just a replica of the classic toy nor a copy of the Falcon released just three years ago, this Millennium Falcon has everything! It talks, it lights up and even includes Han and Chewie! What more could a boy ask for?

A comparison: the Millennium Falcon in action:

The Rebel Transport on its final voyage:

I realize the Millennium Falcon is expensive, selling for as much as $160 at Toys R’ Us and as low as $100 on Amazon. Unlike the 1980’s, however, this time it is readily available. A casualty of our shaky economy, many stores such as Wal-Mart and Target ordered many of these toys in anticipation of another blockbuster-shopping season. Sadly, many Falcons remain in stores, indicative of the lack of the “Generation X” market willing to spend on itself. It’s possible the toy will reach as low as $80 before year’s end, reminiscent of the endless SUV’s discounted at car dealerships. Maybe someone will find it in their heart to rescue the Falcon from its department store prison and deliver it safely to the rebel base at the Adam Koeppe household. I promise that it will be removed from its protective box and played with by loving, enthusiastic children young and old. Help me, Santa. You’re my only hope.

Santa?

Santa, can you hear me?