Hans Solo would have been proud

My youngest son turned 37 years of age yesterday.

Just before noon my wife reminded me that “on this day, 37 years ago,” I’d held him for the first time.

Amazing. Time does fly.

The passage of time also changes our attitudes toward many things. I guessed that my son would now appreciate receiving a few things from is childhood and see them as more meaningful than gifts.

So, I removed his Grade 9 General French Award from a basement wall and wrapped it in blue tissue. (He opened it later and was quite surprised to see it again. “I forgot all about this!” Dad scored).


["Hey, if he's 37, how old am I?!": photo GH]

And I toiled over his battery-powered Hans Solo space blaster gun, trying to get it to work after 30 years of being out of service.

New batteries produced no positive affects after first try. So I took it apart, cleaned all the electrical contacts, then reassembled it.

Still no go.

So, pursuing one last idea, I stuck a tiny screwdriver through a wee space and turned a plastic thingamajig that protruded from a wee motor.

No go.

After a few more tries, however, it began to spin on its own, and by rubbing against an adjacent plastic strip it started to produce the whining ‘laser-gun’ noise that had rubbed a few nerves raw in the 1970s.

After realizing I’d succeeded I started to laugh and hoped it would produce the same affect on my son.

Later that evening it did. And my grandson loved it too - and he soon began to drive us all mad!!

I thought, Dad scores a triple whammy!

Though my ears were ringing - after a 30-year reprieve - I felt like I’d done my son a good deed.

And I’m pretty sure Hans Solo would be very proud too.

***

May the force be with you.

And with your children.

And grandchildren.

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