What do LEGO masters Paul Romein and Greg Radzimowski do with 38 hours of their time? This:

The greatest, gutsiest Father’s Day gift set I have ever seen:

Stop and think: what does it say when you give your father a Darth Vader/Luke Skywalker set for Father’s Day?

• "Dad, you are the genocidal embodiment of evil, but I will eventually redeem you"?
• "Dad, you tortured my sister and cut my hand off"?
• "Dad, I’d rather throw myself down to certain destruction than acknowledge you as my father"?
• "Dad, cut back on the smoking"?

[...] Freud would have had a field day. I share Bruce's sentiment, or would, were I at Wallyworld: I, of course, bought one on the spot. So, honey, if you happen to make it to Wal-Mart this week before I do... (Via And Still I Persist.)

Have you ever built your own Darth Vader hot air balloon? [Via Boing Boing via Twitter Vader.]

Nearly three months since it was ordered, I received my Valentine's Day gift today. (Thanks again, sweetheart!) The original Star Wars trilogy on DVD; not just the Special Edition versions, mind you, but the original theatrical versions as well, something Star Wars purists have been clamoring for for well over a decade. In honor of my revisiting the film which made such an impact on me as a child, I decided to note the first words spoken by major characters in Star Wars: A New Hope, in the order in which they appear. Enjoy! First words of the movie, spoken by C3PO: "Did you hear that? They shut down the main reactor. We'll be destroyed for sure! This is madness!" R2-D2: (Responding to C3PO) Whistling chirps. Darth Vader: "Where are those transmissions you interecepted? What have you done with those plans?" Princess Leia: "Darth Vader. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear you attacked a diplomatic..." Luke Skywalker: "Doesn't look like we have much of a choice but I'll remind him!" Obi-Wan Kenobi: "Hello there." Grand Mof Tarkin: "The Imperial Senate will no longer be of any concern to us. I've just received word the Emperor has dissolved the council, permanently. The last remnants of the old Republic have been swept away." Chewbacca: (soft grunts, responding to Kenobi) "Mmm. Mmm." Han Solo: "Han Solo. I'm captain of the Millenium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

Monday evening a promise was kept and shopping commenced for a lightsaber for the little phisch. We charted a course toward the Toys R Us system, arriving there just a few parsecs after dinner time. (It might've been faster if Solo had loaned us the Falcon, but whatever, he's too busy dodging Imperial cruisers or something.) The purchase was made of a blue lightsaber, because we figured this would juxtapose nicely with my own double-bladed, red lightsaber. (And, more importantly, it was the only color in stock.) Alas, by the time we arrived back home at Echo Base, it was bed time for the little phisch, so any dueling with Daddy would have to wait another day. The new lightsaber spent the night on the night stand next to the boy's bed. Last night, the promised duel was held. The missus insisted it take place outside, so on to the back deck we went. Daddy only used one of his saber's blades, to, you know, keep things "fair". Both of us had an awesome time. The little phisch held nothing back. Every swing of his blade was meant for limb severing, for disemboweling, for decapitation (if he could have reached my neck, that is). My knuckles held the proof of his relentless onslaught. I also learned a bit of how Count Dooku and Palpatine must've felt going up against Yoda: it's actually tough countering the attacks of someone half your size. That, and since I was seeking to have fun with my little guy without causing injury, played a part in my own defense and counterattack. (For the record, yes, I injured the boy, but it was a tap on the shoulder that didn't even leave a mark, and he was quickly over it.) The little phisch is also quite the drama king. He has a great fake death scene, acting it out more than once when I stabbed him in the tummy. We should get video of that.

Last night, the missus had a work-related dinner to attend, so it was a guy night in the phisch bowl. The little phisch consumed mixed veggies and fish sticks (the irony of this statement is not lost on me), whereas I consumed mixed veggies with leftover red beans & rice. And we watched Star Wars. The first attempt at the viewing with my son of the movie which made such a tremendous impression upon me when I was six was met with some...boredom. He knew who some of the characters were, after all. I don't think you can know me at all, or swim in this tank we call home, without encountering, in some random, non-deliberate fashion, characters from the Star Wars universe. But we never really made it through that first viewing of the movie. Not together, anyway. While he decided he was bored and went off to play with Thomas on the train table, or roll Lightning McQueen around the floor, I finished watching the movie. Because, c'mon, it's Star Wars. I'm not sure what changed between then and now. Perhaps it was my receiving the entire Star Wars Mr. Potato Head collection for my birthday this past December. Darth Tater, Storm Tater, and R2 Tater have all occupied a place of semi-honor in the formal dining room, and the little phisch has been allowed to play with them. We've read this Luke Skywalker children's book I picked up two years ago at the Friends of the Flower Mound Library fund raiser. But we haven't really talked about the movie all that much. So I was pleased when I was greeted with a enthusiastic response after suggesting Star Wars last night. After dinner, we enjoyed watching about an hour of it. He asked a lot of questions. A lot. I'm not sure I can begin to describe the totality of "a lot of questions" to those of you who do not have three year-old boys. Bed time was approaching, and we agreed to stop the movie after an upcoming scene. The missus arrived home just about that time, the movie was stopped, and the bedtime rituals commenced. The payoff came this morning. I stumbled downstairs, where the missus and little phisch were already eating breakfast, and on the TV I'm greeted by...Star Wars. Han and Luke are firing down the detention bay while Leia's already diving in to the garbage chute, and Chewie's complaining about the smell. I'm informed, "Daddy, those are stormtroopers!" I smiled, gave him a pat on the head, and turned so the missus wouldn't see the tears welling up. It's done. He's converted. Oh, I forgot to mention he wants his own lightsaber now. He told me last night. Where are the tissues?