Our Trip To The Dork Side

"Talk backwards, I do."

...for a while now I'd been wanting to check out the Star Wars Identities exhibit at the Canadian Aviation and Space Museum.  Some friends of mine had gone and said they'd had a blast.  And I like Star Wars.  I was fucking raised on the Force.  When I'd first heard of Identities, I just thought it was a display of props and costumes from the movies.  I mean, let's face it, getting close to Leia's metal bikini is worth the $24 admission.  There's a reason they keep that thing behind glass.  Sure, all the items are behind glass, but this bikini is like the Holy Grail of geeks everywhere.

Then I found out you get to create your own Star Wars character while you're there.

Wait.  What?

Are you to tell me that I can create my own dude, give him a lightsaber and send him off to kill Jedi?  Or better yet, I can use my lightsaber to cut Jar Jar Binks in half?  Hell, I'd be happy to just choke the fuck out him, but a lightsaber is fine too.

So I packed the car up with my wife and our own little two-year old padawan and made the drive to the museum.  We must have been traveling at ludicrous speed because we did a 2.5 hour trip in just under two hours.  I guess our 2001 Intrepid can make point five past light speed.  Shit yeah.

As we pulled onto the 417 (pretty much the busiest highway in Ottawa) our beloved little padawan got speeder sick and started throwing up.  Yep, she projectile vomited midi-chlorians all over the back of the car.  In my haste, and using my Jedi reflexes, I caught some of the puke with my reusable Starbucks cups.  That cup promptly went in the garbage.  Oh well, it only costs a dollar to replace.

Some sweet stuff to see at the Star Wars Identities exhibit.

We pulled into a random church to clean up and change the kid's clothes into something less puke-ridden.  The minister was nice enough to throw my coffee cup out for me, and I was nice enough to let him know that it was full of toddler puke.  But not until it was in his hands.  Screw that, it's his now - he touched it last.  He both smiled and looked at me oddly at the same time, and then I contemplated trying to use the Jedi Mind trick on him... this cup is not full of puke, this cup is your cup... but I just didn't have the balls to pull that one off.  For the rest of the drive up, the car smelled like vomit and rancid apple juice.  Mmmm.

We pulled into the museum and learned pretty quickly that parking was paid for by some genuine company who was holding a BBQ there.  Wow, that was pretty cool.  It seems like there are good people in this world after all.  Maybe I'd have a change of heart and not turn to the dark side.  Then we learned that our tickets also got us free admission to the actual Aviation and Space Museum.  Jeez, talk about a great disturbance in the force!

Awesome sauce.

We entered the museum, got our wristband and earpiece and began our journey into the Star Wars universe.  They give you these wristbands that allow you to interact at specific areas to help create your Star Wars character.  It's pretty cool.  You pick your home planet, your occupation, how strong the force is with you, etc etc.  The earpiece was kind of stupid though, and I actually turned it off about ten minutes into the exhibit.  If I was learning some neat facts, like "this is how Darth Vader went from concept to costume" or "these sketches depict deleted scenes from Empire Strikes Back", then it would have been great but I don't need a lecture on how our physiology has morphed over the years.  Or a talking to about how our parents help shape our lives.

After ooo-ing and ahhh-ing at all the Original Trilogy artifacts, throwing in an "I am your father" reference to my daughter that she didn't understand (she's 2), and loudly telling the Jar Jar Binks display to go fuck itself, it was time to choose - would I be a hero or join the Emperor and the Dark Side of the Force?

It wasn't a hard decision.  My wristband went right to the dark side. I'm gonna kill me some Jedi.  My wife, on the other hand, had to really think it through.  And she chose the ways of the Jedi.

"...so you're not going to turn to the dark side with me, huh?"
"No... I want to be one of the good guys."
"Hold me.  You know this is bad, right?"
"Why?"
"I'm one of the Sith now.  I pretty much have to cut you in half with my lightsaber right here.  It's like my duty or something."
"You'd never do it."

My own wife of five years wouldn't join the dark side with me!  What the shit?  What the sith?

SHE'S BREAKING MY HEART!

Unable to get over this good side/bad side thing, we decided to check out the Aviation museum.  It's pretty cool if you like museums.  It's really cool if you like planes.  My wife got a little too excited about seeing some planes with Nazi swastikas on them though.  She spent about ten minutes taking pictures of one of the planes, trying different camera settings... she really wanted to get this photo just right.  I know she has some German heritage in her, but this was a side I'd never really seen before.  My worries dissipated when I remembered seeing her eat a bagel earlier in the week.

Ryleigh in goggles, the Nazi plane, Ryleigh has the power, Ryan in space, father-daughter plane time.

The Canadian Space museum is really nothing more than some big photos of people who went to space and a space toilet.  Our daughter, who also wouldn't join the dark side with me, sat on the space potty and yet the awful poo smell in the small room was coming from one of the old men who were walking around unsupervised.

So we grabbed some dinner and prayed to Yoda that there wouldn't be any more car sickness on the way home.

And there wasn't any more puking to be had.  Celebrate the looooooooooooooooooove!

- ryan