still waiting.....

It's so weird what anticipation does.

Grandma is still holding on to life
not aware of much
except when someone does something She doesn't like
a moan or kick of her leg when they try to make her more comfortable,
and apparently didn't succeed
and when She surfaces to hear
someone talking to her
or singing
suddenly said, "I love you, too" to one of the grandkids last night.
Mostly, She is already gone.

So we wait for the phone call from so far away.

And this is where I have gone a little bit insane.

My Husband says, "Let's go for drive- get out for a bit."
and that sounds nice....
but what if she dies while we're out?
do I really want to be on the 101 when I hear the news?
what if we stop for lunch?
what if I'm in Hamburger Hamlet when I get the call?
"I'd rather just stay here."
thank God he understands me

We create these moments for ourselves.
I don't want to be in the shower
or
making the bed
eating Chinese food
scooping dog poop in the yard
yelling at the kids
watching Spongebob
putting gas in the car
at Home Depot

I don't know what the right scene is
I just know that there are some moments
that you can control a little

I can be sure that while we're waiting
the TV stays off
and I only let the kids play outside
or read
We put on instrumental music
and I keep lighting candles
and making nightly cozy fires
though it's 70+ spring weather now

maybe I'll plant some nasturtiums today
that might be alright

Why?
I guess it's because I don't want
to always know that I was standing in the grocery line
when I got the call.
That I was writing a check to the Gas company
Or talking to some teenager selling magazines
I don't want Hilary Duff to provide the soundtrack
to these last moments of Gram's life
or the first moments of her death.

I want to be right here
by my phone.
And when someone
who will it be?
calls to tell me
that it's finally happened
that She is finally gone
I want to remember this moment
as beautiful?
maybe
at least
not ugly
or
mundane
or
insignificant

Because this will be a defining moment in my life.
And I know nothing will ever be the same for me.
I will change
my life
will change
forever

And tomorrow I'll go back to scrambling eggs at leisure
but for now
I rush to finish
to make sure that I am done before the phone rings.
And I wait.

That doesn't even make sense.
But that's what anticipation does.

A Few More Hours

billy is the soundtrack of my life.... along with joni, elton, and andy williams.
to each his own.


I've Loved These Days
Turnstiles Released: Turnstiles

Now we take our time, so nonchalant
And spend our nights so bon vivant
We dress our days in silken robes
The money comes
The money goes
We know it's all a passing phase

We light our lamps for atmosphere
And hang our hopes on chandeliers
We're going wrong, we're gaining weight
We're sleeping long and far too late
And so it's time to change our ways
But I've loved these days

Now as we indulge in things refined
We hide our hearts from harder times
A string of pearls, a foreign car
Oh we can only go so far
On caviar and cabernet

We drown our doubts in dry champagne
And soothe our souls with fine cocaine
I don't know why I even care
We'll get so high and get nowhere
We'll have to change our jaded ways
But I've loved these days

So before we end and then begin
We'll drink a toast to how it's been
A few more hours to be complete
A few more nights on satin sheets
A few more times that I can say
I've loved these days

Grandma

My grandmother is dying.

Years of love and sadness, unbearable grief, hysterical laughter, incredible highs, desolate lows, and always being there for her family have finally taken their toll on her poor heart.

She's 85- and someday, probably in tiny bits and pieces- I will write of her amazing life. But for now all you need to know is that she is the mother of 12, the grandmother of 26 or so, and the great-grandmother of 13. She is the first person who I rode the brand-new Space Mountain with... 3 times in a row (she was in her 60's). She is funny and smart, and collects Hummels, pewter and garden gnomes. She loves Holidays, baking, and her Rosary. She nurtured us with a ferocity that was constant and unconditional, but she never hesitated to pull out the wooden spoon when we needed it. She is Rose Kennedy and Katharine Hepburn and a little bit Dinah Shore. She is a woman of her generation, who gracefully and wisely has made her way into this century through the lives of her progeny.
I love her madly.

This morning, this day, I said goodbye to her. She in Missouri, me in California.
Too far away.

She can no longer talk- her oxygen mask only allows her enough air to survive
so my Aunt Dee Dee held the phone to her ear.
And in that moment, I realized that I had so much to say, and could say nothing that meant what I felt.
I, who have never been at a loss for words, was paralyzed.

How do you tell someone that everything you do, everything you are is because of her influence?

I wanted to say
that I learned to be a parent
because she read to us, colored with us and let us be a little bit naughty sometimes? Because she never acted like she was too tired to cook one more dinner, even though she must have wanted to cry sometimes when she reached the end of her busy day? Because she never made any of us ever feel like she was ashamed or disappointed when we were foolish or hurtful? Because it was unconditional, no strings attached, acceptance of and for all?

That I learned to be a good wife
because she taught me how to laugh at the insignificant messes, and appreciate the comfort of a good snore? Because she taught me how to make pancakes and enchiladas and how to keep my house clean? Because she taught me that you can have a disagreement without being mean? Because she knew so well how quickly your partner can be taken away- and no day should be wasted?

That I learned to be responsible
because she trusted me to care for her own aging mother- my Nana- while she was on a well-deserved vacation for a few weeks? Because she hosted a neighborhood/family roundtable for political discussions before every Election Day? Because when I was sick, in pain, bored, wanted to quit a hated job, or otherwise miserable, she told me to "offer it up"?

That I learned to love life
because she made me bring up her 412 Christmas boxes from the basement- and let me pick out my favorite decorations to put up for her? Because she knew the value of an afternoon spent on the front porch watching the fog roll in from the beach? Because no matter how horrific it must have been to see her toddler daughter killed by a speeding car, or her husband killed by a bullet in 1969, she never gave up hope that tomorrow would be better?

There is so much.

Cutting sandwiches into butterflies. Playing music during breakfast. Jewel-T laundry detergent. Croquet in the backyard. Feeding her dogs leftover pot roast. Edgemar milk. Perry Como.
Gingerbread chocolate chip cookies. Taboo powder. Vicks' Vaporub. Giving up candy for Lent.

So what did I say?

I said

I
Love
You.

and
Thank you
for every single thing
everything
everything
you
gave
me.

ever.

Thank
You.

A Rat in the Vatican

Some things he has said in the past three years:
as reported by The Tidings, The Los Angeles Times, TIME, and various publications.


- Divorced people will never be allowed to receive sacraments or remarry in the church, and are in the same moral category as Mafia and child molesters.
Does this actually mean that divorced people are CRIMINALS? ok.....
So, make a mistake and you can never be forgiven. Never. Isn't that Christ's way?
By the way,pay no attention to those Confessionals over there- they aren't for YOU.

- Homosexuality is not only an abomination, but homosexuals are evil in the eyes of God.
God makes mistakes? God hates His creations? God actually created a whole group of people to be condemned? Wow, that's a God I love and trust, how about you?

- The rituals of the Liturgy have become too focused on the "community" since VaticanII, and must be reformed- in fact, we must reform the reformation.
We need to get rid of Guitar Masses, children's' Masses, and liturgical dancing--- it goes against Christ's obvious desire for us to be silent , sorrowful, and separated by an altar .

- Because this "community" spirit has been allowed to corrupt the Liturgy of the Mass, the focus has turned from the Priests' role as the representative of Christ, and instead brings too much of individual's experience to the Mass.
This would imply that that the Mass should be all about the Priest, not the congregation... or that the Priests shouldn't have to share the pulpit with anyone. Talk about divas.

- Women will never be priests because Christ said that only MEN can represent Him to His people.
Yeah, Mary is so NOT a representative of Christ.

- Gay Priests do not exist, since sexuality is not part of the Vows of Priesthood.
Where do I begin with this one?

- Priests can never be married (see above).
And yet married Catholics are required to receive pre-marital counseling with their Parish priest in 1-6 sessions prior to being married in the Church . I sure am glad I can get some good old fashioned relationship advice from a man who is not allowed to date, marry, or have sex. Wonder what he can teach me about being a parent!

- While it is regrettable that some children may have been harmed by Religious, there is no proof that this could have been prevented, since these actions were unknown to superiors at the time the alleged actions took place.
Unfortunately, we are unable to process your request for justice at this time....

-This would also preclude any current admission of guilt or apologies to the victims.
....as we are currently in complete denial.

This man is supposed to bring us into a New Century.....
maybe the 17th?

to be continued.
you'd better believe it.

A Simple Question

It came up unexpectedly.
A five-year-old's innocent question, "Hey, does Diane have two mommies?"
with the "Hey" in there, like it was a sudden thought.

Diane is his cousin, and quite possibly the only girl besides his sisters that he will allow to hug him. She has been a part of his life since she was 4 months old, and is now nearly three. He doesn't remember not knowing her.
We have never really discussed her living arrangements, any more than we analyze anyone else's. In fact, Diane has a more interesting background than most, having made the journey to our living room via Vietnam and a lot of red tape. And we have talked about that, looked at maps and considered adoption for our family many times.
The Son knows how special that makes Diane. He knows that her parents wanted her so much that they went all the way around the world to find her. He knows that she may look Asian, but she talks American, just like he does, because she never spoke Vietnamese. He thinks that's pretty cool.
Diane's parents are my inlaws, once or twice removed. I'm not exactly sure how it all works legally, but they are "blood", and we adore them. When they brought baby Diane home, we cried for them, in joy and excitement - and if that sounds dramatic, it's not. We couldn't have been happier. And in the years that have ensued, Diane has become part of our clan of kids- visiting once a week or so, and making a place for herself in our hearts.

So it was a shock when the Son asked Diane's Mommy (not to be confused with her "Mama"-- he knows the difference) if Diane had two mommies. This apparently had never come up in conversation- or in his mind. But now that he is closing in on six and in school, perhaps this is a new issue.

Diane's Mommy- who, no doubt, has heard and will hear this question many, many times over the next decade or five- looked him in the eye and cheerfully answered, "Yes, she does!"

And we all waited for the other shoe to drop. You know, the part where he asks "why" or says something about needing to have a Daddy to make a baby, or lets me know that some brainwashing has already taken place in his Catholic school classroom. I wait to see where this will take us- already planning to have a talk with his teacher, or at least a sit down with my little Son....

Instead, our Son chirped, "Oh, o.k!', and hopped away.

And that was that.


It reminded me of my Oldest's 6 year old question years ago, "Mom, what does 'GAY' mean?"
At the time, we were in a restaurant with about 15 other people, and I was not at all prepared to answer that one. I told her that she should remind me to tell her when we got home, because it was a big answer, and I needed to think about it. She was fine with that, but did proceed to ask me repeatedly over the next few days. I wasn't totally avoiding the answer, it's just that she would ask in the middle of the grocery line, or as I walked her into her classroom, and, truthfully, I was glad that every time she asked me, "Mom, now will you tell me what 'GAY'means?", it was really not the right time.

Finally, she trapped me.
We were in the car: just the Oldest, the infant Middlest, Daddy and Me. Daddy and I had discussed this, and were ready.
It went something like this:

" You know most boys grow up and fall in love with girls, and most girls grow up and fall in love with boys, but SOME boys grow up and love other boys, and SOME girls grow up and love other girls. It's just the way God makes some people and we call them 'gay' people. It doesn't make them weird or bad or anything, even though some not very smart people think that God makes mistakes when He makes gay people. We know lots of gay people like Uncle Bobby and Uncle Terry, and you know that they are wonderful, special people...."

I went on like this for a few minutes, trying to instill in my Oldest the belief that homosexuality is not bad, is not scary, is not something to tease others about , is ok with Dad and Mom, is not something that gay people decide to be, just like she didn't get to decide to be right-handed or have ADD. I thought I was doing it all the right way, basking in motherly perfection, actually... and ended it with, "Why were you thinking about what 'gay' means?"

And my Oldest, in all her angelic confusion said, "Well, you know, 'don we now our GAY APPAREL fa la la la la la la la la' ? I just didn't understand that."

and still didn't, thanks to good ol' Mom.




So I've decided that I will wait until the Son asks me for a more thorough explanation of Diane's family. Instead, this morning I asked him what he thought about Diane having two mommies. And his answer was simple:
"Well, I think she might need a Dad to help her do some stuff."
like what?
"Oh, you know, like move furniture."

And then it all made sense.
Diane and her Mommies are moving to a new house in a few weeks, and my Son, my sensitive, generous and practical boy, was concerned that maybe they'd be at a loss without a Daddy to help them lift the heavy stuff.
A quick mention of strong women and lots of friends to help, and he was on his way, worry-free.


fa la la la la la la la la.

Eye of the Beholder

just a thought:

Beauty pageant contestants couldn't possibly be the best each state or country has to offer.

It's like part of the criteria is that most of them have totally crooked faces, eyes too close together, helmet head hair or impossibly big teeth.
And they look like that 8th grade art project-- you know the one: if you took a picture of one of them, cut it in half right down the noseline, glued each half to a separate piece of paper and then drew the other half, you'd have two completely different people's faces.

And what's with the seductive slink and sexy wink/half smile/chin bob that has replaced the wholesome and hysterical, "From the Lonestar State, I'm Brenda Lou Smith- Miss TEXAS!"?
And Brenda Lou would be wearing a 12 foot tall 10 gallon hat, and sequined chaps?
Now it's become a Victoria's Secret runway show-except with ugly gowns.

I know that this isn't true for all of the contestants.
In fact, my very own breathtakingly beautiful sister-in-law was Miss Oklahoma a number of years ago .
And she deserved to be- that year she was- and still IS - the best Oklahoma had to offer.
And occasionally you get a Vanessa Williams or a maybe even a Lee Meriwether (don't laugh, she's STILL fabulous, admit it). But mostly, the ones who win are the ones you laughed at during the opening of the show. The ones that made you screech, "What was she thinking?" and "Oh my god- what is with her nose?".

And you know what? No matter how liberated we're supposed to be, we don't watch these contests to see who has the best resume or who is the most poised. No, we watch to see how awful the dresses are, how pathetic the talent, and how wrong the judges are. And to cheer on the one who is really the most beautiful, but rarely gets past the first cut.
The secret truth is that it's not about intelligence or achievement;
a beauty pageant is ALL about BEAUTY.

Or, maybe it's not.

No REASON

The U.S. Postal Service announced that it will be raising rates.
Reason? Too many people use email and phones, or other sources, for correspondence, and the Post Office is not making enough money.

Disney has increased its ticket prices to the amusement parks well over $10 in the past 4 years.
Reason? Not enough people are going to the Parks, so the Walt Disney Co. is not making enough money.

The Los Angeles Transportation system is putting a brand spanking new busline through my neighborhood.
Reason? Not enough people ride the public transportation in L.A., and the city is not making enough money.

Gas prices are going up at a time when there is a surplus of oil.
Car prices are raised at a time when there is a call for emergency solutions to the influx of unsold and excess automobiles over the past 10 years (to store, to sell to foreign market, to recycle?). Bottom line, too many cars being produced.
Pharmaceutical companies are raising the prices of some of their more popular meds because so many people are going to Canada and Mexico for cheaper drugs.
Reason? Not making enough money.

Hold on.
Am I the only one who thinks this is all backwards?

If not enough people ride the bus, how much financial sense does it make to buy more buses?
If patients are going to other countries to buy the same drugs you sell, shouldn't you try to make it worth their while to stay here?
If you want people to use your product, buy your oil, ride Space Mountain, the very LAST thing you want to do is CHARGE MORE MONEY for the privilege.

So, the REAL REASON these companies are not making enough money is that not enough people are willing to pay their higher prices to compensate for the fact that they aren't making enough money.....

It's just not
reasonable

Just Rewards

What is with the whole "rewarding" the screw-ups?

Why are the clueless getting the cruises?

Why are the vacant getting the vacations?

For those of you who are lost here, let me fill you in:

It used to be that one of the "talk shows" (ok, remember Sally Jessy?) would have a special gift for someone who had been through a lot. I know part of that was the fact that they didn't pay their guests, and, quite frankly, when your ratings are reliant on people spilling their guts- and private lives- on your national television show, you probably need to compensate somehow. So, ok, a new living room set for the guy whose home burned down when he was saving his neighbor's house- or a new car for the woman who takes food to the homebound elderly.... that all makes perfect karmic sense to me.

But it's different now.

Somehow, it's been decided that everyone who shares their story on TV deserves to be rewarded. We've taken the "preserve self-esteem at all costs" way beyond what is rational. Now, the more you've wrecked your own, or someone else's life, the more you deserve to be compensated for your pain... that YOU caused, but let's not think about that . At least, that's how it looks.

I noticed it first on "Dr. Phil". I like Dr. Phil. I think he is really on the mark most of the time, and his no-nonsense approach to problems makes a lot of sense to me. But I can't figure out how he reconciles his "accountability", "get real" and "results oriented" programs to the fact that he almost always rewards his most messed up guests with a "Time away from your problems CRUISE". Or, "We're going to pay your COLLEGE TUITION for 4 years because you've wasted 8 years on drugs but you're clean now". Or, "Your kids are messed up, you let them date at 12 and get pregnant at 13, now you want a divorce, but here's an all-expenses paid VACATION to the VIRGIN ISLANDS to help you reconnect". What kind of "result" is that?

Now I see "Nanny 911" and "Super Nanny" do the same thing. Have you seen those shows? We've got parents here who are CLUELESS. Totally ignorant about the basics of parenting. Some are downright stupid. All are potentially dangerous.

The kids are out of control- how many 5 year olds flip off their mom when they are angry? How often do you see an 8 year old strangle her little brother until he turns blue and wets his pants? Or a 3 year old walk down the middle of the street for 15 minutes before the parents even realize he's out...again?

The parents are in denial, and completely lacking in an responsible disciplining and in some cases are just plain LAZY... and now they've asked for help from a stranger to learn parenting skills (and, in some cases, I think, to keep Protective Services from their door).

So they go through this whole rigamarole about "time outs" and "positive reinforcement" and "you are the parent, not the friend" stuff...and somehow at that end of 55 minutes, the family is saved. And then they get a card that congratulates them for their "hard work", and sends the whole family on a VACATION.

I WANT TO BE A BAD PARENT!

What about the REST of us who have been putting our kids in gentle time outs since they were 2 years old ? Who cried in the hallway outside of the nursery door at an age-appropriate time and now have kids that sleep in their own beds? Who don't let our kids hit, kick or bite? Who don't argue with our spouses in front of the kids? Who have happy, clean, calm households

BECAUSE WE WORK AT IT?

I have a good marriage, my kids are smart and happy, we are not in debt. We don't drink, do drugs, or hide a molester in the family. We go to Church, don't let the kids watch R-rated movies, and wash little mouths out with soap if necessary... well, at least the kids think we would (whatever works).

We don't let our children run around in restaurants or crowded rooms. We make them hold hands in the parking lot. We have them play outside for at least an hour a day. Sometimes we don't turn the TV on all day- and no one notices. Arguments are talked out, no one hits in our house. Ever. We talk to our kids about smoking, drugs, pregnancy and violence. There are chores to do . There are consequences to not doing them.

We taught our kids to read. To say, "Thank you", and "Please", and "Excuse me". We use the word "No", and don't feel guilty about it. My kids are gigglers, tickle monsters, cuddlebugs, and smarties...we adore them, and are proud of them- and they KNOW it.

So- WHERE IS MY VACATION???

Oh, right, I must be doing it all wrong.

I can't help but wonder what the lessons are that we are teaching our TV viewing kids:

Screw up for a while, and then ask for help on television so you can be rewarded?

Be irresponsible,and do it in a BIG way, so someone will feel sorry for you and clean up your mess?

I WANT TO LIVE IN SQUALOR so that 2 BRITISH LADIES TO CLEAN UP MY HOUSE and then leave me $1000s in cleaning products and new candles and towels!

I WANT TO BANKRUPT MY FAMILY by compulsive gambling, and have a world-renowned CELEBRITY PAY MY MORTGAGE so I don't lose my house.

I WANT TO DRINK until my kids decide to have an INTERVENTION, so that I CAN GO TO ANTIGUA for REHAB, paid for by a FAMOUS TALK SHOW HOST.

I WANT TO HAVE A MIDLIFE CRISIS so that I can have an affair, confess in front of millions of people, ask my husband for forgiveness, reconcile and be sent ON A SECOND HONEYMOON!

No, I guess I don't...but I don't think anyone else should, either.

Il Papa

it's not about

religion
doctrine
dogma
politics
edicts
mitered hats
ring kissing


it's all about

loyalty
integrity
intelligence
determination
humor
warmth
piety
love
compassion
stability
commitment
honor
dignity

grace

you
don't have to
like
the
Leader
to
respect
the
MAN

The Force

My Son is obsessed with Star Wars.

At 2 years old, he saw the 4th movie (which, as you know, is really the 1st one) at his cousin's house. We didn't think he as even watching- certainly never thought he'd "get it"- heck, I still don't understand half of the real Star Wars story lines.
But shortly after that day, my Son became a Jedi.

And when I say he "became", I mean that, in the truest sense of the word, being a Jedi was his true calling. His first light saber was a half- sized blue I found on eBay - came with a talking Yoda. He slept with it. He wore longjohns as "Luke", and a robe over that as "Anakin". Every day.
Then we discovered the Rebel Alliance aisle at ToysRus ...and the rest is a very cluttered history.
Over the past 3 years, he has acquired 8 light sabers (his grandmother and aunts think it is their job to keep his equipment current), and we've created a galaxy- complete with glow-paint stars and a giant styrofoam Death Star in his bedroom. Every birthday party has a Star Wars theme (you know how most kids go on to "something else"? Not our Son). Every Halloween costume for 3 years has been a Skywalker of some kind. And his tortoise is named Yoda.

He has seen every movie and cartoon so many times that he knows every breath the characters take. We have coloring books, clothing, action figures, Game Boy games, breakfast cereal.... his Galactic Heroes collection numbers about 60. And that's with the strict rule that no violent, bloody or intense items will come into this house. He's still just 5-1/2.

So we get this flyer- black and white with a giant Darth Vader head on it....
TOYS R US STAR WARS RELEASE!
Midnight Party
for the release of the new STAR WARS: REVENGE OF THE SITH toys!

Included in these new toys are "DARTH TATER", a Mr. Potato Head dressed as you-know-who, a sprinkler shaped as you-know-who, a water gun shaped like a Wookie, a ton of new sound-making lightsabers, and a myriad of toddler toys that are similar to the Hasbro "Rescue Heroes", for kids 3-8. And so , so , so much more.

And that's my problem.

See, I get that George Lucas is selling this movie through merchandise. In fact, it is common Hollywood knowledge that he made his real money on the first movie by asking for the merchandising rights. 2oth Century Fox, having never seen the likes of Star Wars (or any of the hyper-merchandised films that followed), expected he might make some lunchboxes and Colorforms, and that would be that.
It didn't work out that way.

We ALL had the "May the Force Be With You" t-shirts, the action figures, games. As the subsequent movies were released, we continued to buy into them- literally. And were mostly happy to do so. These characters became like family; we didn't just watch them for 2 hours in a darkened theatre, we wore them, we slept on them, even ate them. Even other movies paid homage to the mega-merchandising of the Force: remember the scene in "E.T." when Elliott tries to teach E.T. the names of all his Star Wars action figures? ("That one's Lando Calrissian...").

So when my Son became a Jedi, it was simply accepted as part of a normal American boy's growth- the way my uncles were the Beatles or Davy Crockett, or my Dad was Tom Mix. I was just glad that his calling wasn't Yu-Gi-Oh.
Star Wars is familiar---no, it IS "family".

Until now.

Because despite the R2D2 Cheez-Its, the "Soft Sleep Buddy Darth", and the size 3T Anakin pajamas, THIS new movie is rated PG-13.
And my son will not see it.

Oh, he knows all the characters already. They all do, those Padawan kids. It's in the coloring books, the commercials, the toys themselves. The Son already wants a "General Grievous" toy... and a "red" Darth.. whatever that is.
That's how it works- Disney does the same thing. They ingrain the kids with the information, they pique their interest by merchandising.... and we parents will generally follow suit.

But not this time.

George Lucas gave an interview on "60 Minutes" in which he said that he would "not take a 5 or 6 year old to see this film". That this one would be "very dark", and that the PG-13 rating speaks for itself.

We have been betrayed.

We bought his dynasty for the past 27 years since the first movie came out. We welcomed these characters into our daily lives.
We gave birth to Jedis.

And now, Mr. Lucas has cheated us out of the final Chapter. More immediately, he has made all GOOD parents the BAD GUYS.
We are the ones who will have to tell our little guys that they will have to wait until they are old to see a film that is infiltrating every aspect of their lives.
"Yes, that whole aisle of toys, those shirts, those tennis shoes, that cereal, that bodysoap, the sheets, towels, cards, games, lawn ornaments, chips, popsicles, soda cans, hats, pjs, books, lunchboxes, pool toys, .... IGNORE THEM."

I can't help but think that Mr. Lucas created this last film as a reward for all the 25 year old men-boys who live in their mother's basements and collect comic books. Or for the prime "Hollywood" demographic of 13-18 year olds who just want to see things blown up--- or naked.
But then why the need to advertise- to merchandise- for an audience of children who aren't even supposed to see this movie???

Ah, GREED (or should that be "Greedo"?).

But the truth is, those highly-prized audience members don't make the real money. And they don't spend the real money. They don't have the disposable income and the joy of pleasing the children by buying to excess.
WE do. We, the PARENTS, are the ones who will buy the more of myth for our kids. And there are lots of us.

My son learned some things while becoming a Jedi, and he is very adamant about these facts: Jedis do not seek power, Jedis are loyal, and Jedis are fair--- and you can tell the good guys from the bad guys by the color of their lightsaber.

I wonder what color George Lucas' lightsaber is.