I've never been proud to be an American for the same reasons I've never been proud to have been born with a nose - I had no decision in the matter. As I cannot help but breathe, for I have a nose, there are certain things I cannot seem to help because I am American.
We are, of course, talking about the pursuit of material possessions as a substitution for the pursuit of happiness. Monday night was Midnight Madness at the Castleton Toys R Us. There were shiny, new Star Wars to be had. Oh, I have them alright.
I arrived at the Castleton area Toys R Us at approximately 7 p.m. Nobody was waiting in line, yet. I leapt into the store. There was a fanfare of trumpets and confetti fell from the ceiling as I pronounced to the world, "I declare myself the first in line for Star Wars toys!" Millions applauded my accomplishment. Women bowed before my feet.
Then a kind stock girl pointed to two men who were waiting outside in their car. They had been there since 5:30pm, but didn't see the point of waiting in the cold if no one else was there yet. The millions who applauded left and went to wait in line at Wal-Mart.
Still, being third in line wasn't too bad. I decided to be a nerf herder and make the poor saps (thirty-something collectors) stand out in the cold with me. One of them was a Ball State alumni, and so the small talk began.
By 8:30 p.m. four more had shown up. The seven of us formed the core group known as "the front of the line." Everyone else felt a tinge of jealously towards us because we really were that much more hardcore. Our lightsabres were longer than theirs and they knew it.
Geeks can be very trite; controversy tends to arise when they gather in large numbers. Last night was no exception. Members of the Indy Knights Fan club who showed up in costume were allowed to go inside early and reserve their toys. While I was waiting in the cold for five hours to get my goods, some goon in a Stormtrooper costume was sitting pretty inside with a loaded grocery cart. Bantha poo-doo I say.
When the doors opened at midnight, the seven of us in the front of the line employed our game plan: block traffic with the shopping carts just long enough to get the highly prized items. (I told you, geeks can be trite.) It worked for a moment, but then the rush came. The "Attack of the Clones" soundtrack blared while hordes of adults (not children) grabbed toys from the shelves like Jabba the Hutt at a Chinese Buffet.
I regained consciousness somewhere towards the back of the store. I'm not sure how, but I managed to get everything I wanted. I even grabbed an extra deluxe Jango Fett that I gave to one of the guys I met in line.
Time flew by during the drive back to Muncie. I smiled and laughed to myself; it was the best I've felt in months. Now Kit Fisto sits proudly at my desk taunting Natalie Portman, who is conveniently chained to a pole. Have Star Wars toys made me truly happy? Well, no. But they came pretty darned close. God bless America.
Write to Ben at bbmcshane@bsu.edu
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