I Told My Grandmother I Have A Star Wars Blog

This is one of my earliest non-jokes, originally published September 26, 2006.  Every word is true, honest injun!

--------------------

"I haven't read your sister's blog in a couple of days," she says to me over the phone, "so I have really no idea what's going on in her life."

"Don't worry, she's doing fine," comes my reply. Not a very creative thing to say, but I just got this new cell phone, and I'm trying to figure out where to put it in the car. I quickly settle for the nearest option, and drop it on my lap. Did I mention I'm driving?

"Well, her blogs are what keep your grandfather and me up to date. She's a very good writer, your sister." That's true, but I'm still more impressed that my grandparents know what a blog is. For a couple of octogenarians, they're remarkably internet-savvy.

Then she continues. "Do you have a blog?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." I should have seen that coming, yet I have no clue how to respond. I figure that honesty is the best policy, or at least the easiest, so I decide to just come out and say it. "Well, yeah. But it's not a regular blog. It's a Star Wars blog."

"A Star Wars blog?"

"Yeah, it's about Star Wars jokes. Kind of a niche, but people seem to like it."

"Oh," says my grandmother. "Well, I don't think I'd like it."

"No, probably not," I agree. She wasn't being mean, just honest. Wookiee puns aint her thang. I get that.

"When did the Star Wars come out?" she asks.

"The first one? 1977."

"You know, when that movie came out, they made such a big deal about it that we just had to go see it. So me and your grandfather, we went to go see it with some friends of ours. We saw it at the Esquire Theater - you know the one?"

"Of course," I lie.

"I think they just closed the Esquire. I read about it in the Sun-Times. A real shame, it was such a nice place." My grandmother was a schoolteacher, so she knows not to stay off topic for long. "Anyway, we go to see the Star Wars, at the Esquire Theater, and I remember sitting there and having absolutely no idea what was going on!"

"Well," I manage, "I suppose it's not for every audience."

Then there's a pause. I know the pause well. My grandmother is a people-pleaser, and she's concerned that I might be upset by her story. I don't call her nearly enough, and she's not going to blow this conversation by implying that she disapproves of my hobby. She's trying to think of something -- anything -- which might make me feel better.

"Carrie Fisher was in Star Wars, right?" Gotta admit, she has an impressive memory.

"That's right," I say.

"Well, everybody loves Debbie Reynolds."