Good Core Memory? “Meesa No Think So.”
That time a Star Wars character stabbed me in the a**. And it hurt.
I started this blog post with a completely different intention. The planned content? Revealing totally wrong conceptions about performer life, but it's not the right call today. My bones are itching to give you something more personal. More fun. Laughable. So here we are. I’ve got a story for ya.
We’re going right to a core memory. What you’re about to read is a traumatic tale from my childhood that was locked in the vault for some time. I’ve learned to laugh about it. Hysterically. And I have the scar on my butt to prove it.
Picture this: a short, smiling, energetic ball of curly hair who had yet to discover life past single digits. She danced into her house through the front door, said hello to her adopted Aunt, and plopped herself right on her favorite big comfy chair.
To her surprise, there was someone waiting for her on that chair. He was sharp. He was quirky. His character was one of those annoying ones you could most definitely go your entire life without knowing.
Obviously, that girl was me. The male however, wasn’t even real. Although, he was famous for his appearance in the film world of George Lucas. As it turned out, he also looked great on a pencil.
When I plopped into that chair, I mean jumped. I JUMPED with the force (pun intended) to give me the heightened satisfaction of landing on a brown-cushioned cloud.
Instead, I got pain. Right on my left butt cheek. Jar Jar Binks stabbed me in the ass with a big annoying smile on his face. He was laughing at me. Enjoying it. The force was strong.
Okay, okay. I know it’s my fault I jumped into the chair. But that little f***ker was wedged into the cushion so deep - pencil point out, I might add - he wasn’t even visible.
Imagine my embarrassment when my Aunt (and the other 6 people in my house) gathered around me and the chair, intently watching my father tweeze this pencil point out of my butt. I heard the tweezers laughing at me too.
Yes, friend. I sat on it and broke the pencil point off with my ass. I screamed and cried and my day as a smiling ball of curly hair had quickly disappeared. But hey, I lived and now I smile at this memory. I’m laughing while my fingers click clack on the keyboard.
Looking back on it, I actually feel bad for Jar Jar now. To be freshly sharpened then suddenly have the best part of you cut off - man, that must be mortifying. Wow, I have newfound empathy for people who have a Bris... Thank goodness I didn’t lose any part of my butt cheek, then that would be a whole new correlation. I’d be writing forever about losing a hand like Luke Skywalker.
That’s it. That’s the story of how Jar Jar Binks stabbed me in the butt. Thanks for reading and laughing along with me. For more blog posts like this one, subscribe here.