In a galaxy far, far way…

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

Alright, let’s be real. Those of us who are obsessed with Star Wars collecting are really chasing the nostalgia of another time. Sure, some of us have the added bonus of enjoying the mythic themes of the story arches; or the bigger than life characters who’ve come feel like friends. But at its core, collecting from the far, far away universe is really about the nostalgia.

And I am totally OK with admitting that my obsession and chase is feeding the triggers of nostalgia like a drug. There’s a reason some refer to this obsessive collecting as “plastic crack.” The emotional rewards are addictive.

All that said, I blather on regularly to friends about this obsession and I think they’ve gotten bored with it. Thus, I had the following conversation in my head:

“Self,” said I.

“Yes,” replied me.

“I think the people who are your friends have grown bored by your incessant babbling about the dark hair Luke farmboy versus the traditional blond hair version,” said I.

Me was a aghast. “Foolishness!”

I pointed out the friends were not obsessing over the hair variant dialog and have moved over to the corner of the bar to look at a dead cockroach, “Really, me? Why are they conversing about a crushed cockroach in the corner?”

Me was silent.

“I believe it may be time to find a new audience for these missives and geekeries,” said I.

Me was pouting.

“You know, me, the intertoobz is full of Star Peoplez likers.”

Me glared at I, furious I allowed our friend John’s taunting of our obsession to taint our thoughtful conversation.

I was pensive, and paused. It was a thoughtful pause.

“It is important that we find our tribe,” I said finally. “That means the wilds of the electrons.”

Me turned his back to me.

Thus was the first discussion I had with myself about this Star Wars thing. But it wasn’t until yesterday, while taking a breathing treatment, and joking around with a cellphone camera and a 1981 Empire Strikes Back Yoda hand puppet, that it all crystalized.

I snapped a photo of myself with a breathing treatment mask on my face, hissing out the drugs I need to control the problems in my lungs, with Yoda on my shoulder. I texted it to my boss, with the quote: “Breathing, you must. To living, essential it is.” [OK the text of the text message has been embellished for story telling purposes, but you get the point.]

Yoda on my Shoulder was born. And now, Me and I will get to share our journeys with you. Snapped images from garage sales and barn auctions; video of auctions and audio of me cursing during some pursuit — these are just some of the things I will share. I will also share with you some of my finds (but never my honey holes). I might share images of variants for a wee bit of conversation. I will more than likely share photos of my dog, Lancelot Gobbo with various Star Wars items.

I should note, as well, that while I fully admit to be obsessed with all the things Star Wars, that I do occasionally grab up other action figures and brands. Why? Because I like the figure, or the reference creates a warm nostalgia for me. Whatever the reason, I will probably banter a bit about thinks like Thundercats or He-Man. I am no expert in any of these toy arenas mind you — so take my advice, observations whatnotism with a grain of salt — but I like what I like and I hope I can articulate why enough to maybe introduce you to a new line.