Saturday, October 15, 2011

Darth Vader, Writer-at-Large

October is my favorite month. The crisp air, the rustle of dry leaves under foot and, of course, Halloween. There was never any time as a child I enjoyed more than Halloween. It was a chance to get away from who I was.
I was a withdrawn, pudgy kid. I could be obnoxious on the outside, but inside I wished I could be someone else. Instead of being able to pull my face off and reveal a new person, I realized I could just put on a new one.
Darth Vader was one of my favorites. The dark helmet and the black clothes were the perfect combination to hide who I was. It also allowed me to inflict fear upon the galaxy! Swinging an imaginary light saber, I would go through the streets to strangers' houses asking for candy. Never mind that! Vader didn't ask for candy. He DEMANDED it! The tributes the denizens paid to Darth Vader were put in his bag and taken back to the Death Star.
 Of course as I removed my mask I remembered I was home. No galaxy crushing here, just me and a bag of candy. I would always stop halfway through and clutch my overstuffed stomach as I groaned myself to sleep.  Too many years have passed since my days of hiding behind a mask. Actually, I'm not really sure about that. I do get to put on the visage of a writer. The keyboard is my Death Star and the words are the tribute paid. It's not so bad, although I don't get to eat as much candy.
I do wear the helmet once in awhile, at least in my head. That helmeted Vader you see knocking on your door this Halloween isn't me. I swear it.
Now give me some candy.

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