The Scoop on Solo

Yesterday I wrote of my intentions to see Solo: A Star Wars Story and of my trepidations. Han Solo, as played roguishly by Harrison Ford in the original trilogy and in the more recent, The Force Awakens, has been the inspiration for many of my romantic sci-fi daydreams over these past forty years.

Han Solo has been my imaginary hall pass. In other words, if Han, as played by Harrison Ford, ever shows up at my door in the Millennium Falcon Studly Doright gives his permission for me to spend some quality private time with the scoundrel. No questions asked. Mighty open minded of my Studly, wouldn’t you agree?

The film, Solo, is set in a time before the original trilogy, taking us back to before Han made his fabled Kessel run in twelve or so parsecs. Obviously Harrison Ford couldn’t play the part of scoundrel Han, having grown too old to play the younger version. I was genuinely concerned about the casting choice of Alden Ehrenreich. In the trailers he appeared too short, too boxy, too callow, too “not Harrison Ford.”

But, I am happy to report that not only is Mr. Ehrenreich a perfect Hal Solo (too young for me to lust over, but that’s okay), but Donald Glover is a fittingly rakish Lando Calrission, and Joonas Suotamo is a marvelous Chewbacca. The entire cast, including Woody Harrelson as the thief/smuggler, Becket, and Amelia Clark (also known as Game of Thrones’s Khaleesi) as young Han’s love interest, Kira, is spot on.

The pacing of the film is reminiscent of Star Wars, A New Hope. It’s fast and fun and chock full of wise cracks and charm and surprises. I was transported back to that world I fell in love with as a young adult.

Now, back to Han Solo. There’s one brief moment in which our young scoundrel is shown in profile, almost a silhouette, and he’s the spitting image of Han as portrayed by Harrison Ford. It almost took my breath away. Han lives on.

Go see the film. Let me know what you think. I’m curious to know if anyone else saw that scene as I did.

Peace, people.

Solo, Solo

I’m off this morning to see the newest Star Wars movie, Solo. Studly Doright can’t go with me due to a silly thing called work, so I’ll be seeing Solo solo.

Studly will want to see it once the new has worn off, so I’m sure I’ll see it more than once.

I’m torn, though. Harrison Ford IS Han Solo, so how can this young whippersnapper, Alden Ehrenreich, even dream of stepping into his boots? I’ve got mixed feelings about this.

I’m willing to give him a chance, though, to become the scruffy looking nerfherder I gave my heart to a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. May the Force be with him. And with all of us.

Peace, people.

Unintentional Dating 

Unintentional Dating 

My lonely life revolves around shopping, blogging, and Facebook, but at least I have a life of sorts. On Facebook I’m particularly vulnerable to clicking on tests–“How Smart are You?” “What Does Your Color Preference Indicate about You?” “Are  You a Sociopath? Find out in 10 Easy Steps.”

 

For the record, there’s a unicorn inside me, which explains the gastric distress.
 
Like most facebookers, I take the results of these tests with a grain of salt, meaning if I like the results it was a righteous test; if I don’t, it was a lame questionnaire with no legitimacy. I still maintain that I am not a sociopath. Stupid test.

Most of the time these little activities are straightforward and harmless: Click on the site, answer a few multiple choice questions, receive your results. But one day this week I took a quiz and was automatically transferred to the online dating site, FirstMet.

I didn’t answer a single question and left the page immediately. However, the site was linked to my Facebook profile so now I’ve been receiving dozens of emails from potential suitors. They include

Gary, a 55 year old male in Tallahassee who’d like to rock my world. His hobbies include listening to Rush Limbaugh and going to tractor pulls.

Mark, 58, is retired and enjoys television and Chinese take out.

Walt, 62, likes the Hunger Games and country music. Walt has a comb over (I saw his photo). 

I thought I could ignore these emails and they’d go away, but they keep coming. Either I’m much more desirable than I ever thought, or these men are slightly desperate. Let’s go with option #2.

Studly Doright really doesn’t want me to date. And honestly, unless Harrison Ford, Huey Lewis, or Adam Levine show up in an email I’m not all that interested. 

Finally a Facebook friend showed me how to stop receiving the emails from FirstMet, so maybe my suitors will fade away. Of course now I won’t have any way to know when Harrison tries to contact me. That’s the downside.

Ok, I’m going to go retake that sociopath assessment. Must be more careful this time around. Bwahaha.
Peace, people!

Skewed Priorities

I’ve mentioned before that I have a tendency toward hypochondria. Any splotch becomes a melanoma, every cough a case of pneumonia, a brief lapse in memory is perceived as senility. My mind is my worst enemy. 

So this afternoon when I had two weird twinges in my chest I immediately turned to Studly Doright and announced that I was having a heart attack. I’ve already survived one fake heart attack, so I know all the symptoms. 

Neither one of us got too upset, until I realized that if I had a heart attack for real it might put me in danger of missing opening weekend for Star Wars The Force Awakens! I refuse to even consider that occurrence, so any heart attacks, real or imagined, have to wait until after the Star Wars franchise has run its course. I might live forever. 

May the Force be with you. And me. 

Peace, people.

  

Me, the Critic

I’m a frequent moviegoer. Perhaps with the right education I might’ve become a movie critic. Instead, I just see as many different movies as I can and place them into one of three columns:

  1. Movies that stink
  2. Movies that don’t stink
  3. Movies I love and will pay to see again and again.

Column #2 boasts the largest number of films. I’m fairly forgiving, and if I can find anything amusing or endearing about a movie it earns a “Movies that don’t stink” berth. 

Honestly, not too many movies get a spot in column #1. Occasionally I’ll come across something that has no redeeming qualities such as Eyes Wide Shut which tolled the death knell for Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman’s marriage and might’ve been ok if it had been even slightly arousing. 

  
I saw it after having imbibed one too many alcoholic beverages, and ended up giggling throughout the film. It was only much later that I realized it wasn’t a comedy. Oops! Definitely a column #1 kind of film.

Similarly, column #3 is fairly small. Episodes IV, V, and VI of the Star Wars saga are founding members (episode I narrowly missed being placed in column #2) along with the three original Indiana Jones movies. 

 

A man who deserves his own category.
 
On Wednesday I saw the latest installment in the James Bond franchise, Spectre. Good heavens, Daniel Craig is the bomb. Even if the movie stunk, which it doesn’t, I’d put it in column #2. Talk about redeeming qualities! Whew! And, if I can’t stop thinking about those qualities, Spectre might just get moved into column #3.

  
Peace, people!

Prince Credentials

  
In real life,
princes are the ones
who hold your hand
when you’re sick,
and help potty train
the kids.
Real princes don’t
feed you fairy
tales or promise
butterflies and
rosebuds.

Chances are your
prince is already there,
right in front of you,
princess.

  

Clone Wars

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Clone Wars.”

Best not to clone me,
Two me’s would be too many;
Three, ridiculous.

Clone instead two men:
Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise,
Then share their cloned selves.

I get Mister Ford
You get Tom Cruise for yourself.
Or we could switch out.

I really don’t care,
After all cloning ensures
There will be plenty.

And what shall I do
With my hunky cloned Harry?
That’s too personal.

By the way, Tom Cruise
Gained mention because his name
Has two syllables.

Instead of more, like
Huey Lewis, George Clooney
And Paul McCartney.

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