Han Solo Prepares For The Mos Eisley Mayoral Election

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At times I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t trust myself. Cocksure on some days, and then others? Memory’s fading. Leia thinks Greedo shot first. She’d like to think that. But at point blank range? How does a bounty hunter miss at point blank range? This wasn’t some kid shooting wamp rats out in the desert. This was fricking Greedo. He wasn’t Boba Fett, although in the end, it turns out Boba Fett wasn’t Boba Fett. Still, you’d think the guy who caught up to me wouldn’t have missed. Oh, it all happened so long ago. Ancient history, except it’s not. It’s politics.

Sometimes Leia says I shot first. When she wants to make me feel bad about myself. Like when the Falcon was blocking the driveway because I was waiting for parts and she had to park on the street and then it was “you shot Greedo first.” Or like when she gets mad because I ask her to wear the Jabba slave girl outfit. But is that so wrong? I must be the only guy who missed that — still blind from the carbonite and all. You’d think she could throw me a bone.

Maybe I wasn’t meant to be married. Maybe the Force created me to walk this earth alone, by myself, singular, not part of a duet…what’s the word I’m looking for? No, that’s stupid. There are two rules in politics: you have to be married, and you have to believe in the Force.

There were like a thousand witnesses in that bar, some with several sets of eyes, but everyone remembers something different. The drummer says I shot first. The bald bug-eyed oboe dudes insist it was Greedo. All the bartender remembers is that I flipped him a coin for the mess. Why would I clean it up if he shot me first?

And why does it even matter? I mean, he was going to cause my death one way or the other, right? What difference does it make whether he was a cold-blooded killer or just an amoral bounty hunter dropping me off to be tortured by Jabba? Only an imbecile with too much time on his hands would worry about who drew first. I mean, either way it was self-defense. But I can hear my PR people now: “Of course, it matters. The people of Mos Eisley don’t want a drug smuggler with an itchy trigger finger as their mayor. Greedo shot first.”

How did a guy like me even end up with PR people? I’d like to shoot them first. But a necessary evil I’m told if I want to be mayor of Mos Eisley. Do I want to be mayor of Mos Eisley? Am I qualified? Ah, what am I saying? That’s the Sergeant Solo talking…I’m a Captain! Who should be mayor if not me? I’ve done so much here since I first visited after my record-breaking Kessel Run. Nobody else would have turned this backwater planet into a premier shopping and gambling destination. Nobody else would have had the gumption to build the Death Star Resort with five thousand rooms and staff dressed as Stormtroopers. They called it tacky, but it paid for itself instantly. And I always stood by Chewie even when it was confirmed that Wookies spread Lyme disease.

So why am I listening to my critics now? Who are these Tatooines for Truth, spreading rumors? The lies they tell. That I was never frozen in Carbonite, that I’ve never even been to Endor. And now this – that I shot Greedo in cold blood, and chose a law career later in life defending bounty hunters pro bono so I could make up for it.

I tried to get my hands on the bar’s surveillance tapes, but I’m not sure which is the right one. I swear, there’s like three. One where I shoot first. Another where he totally guns for me first — badly. And then there’s one where I actually turn out of the way, but it looks weird, like the orgy scene in Eyes Wide Shut.

Sometimes I wish Luke were still here. That he had gone on with his life. Had new experiences. Now I only see him on a talk show every couple of years talking about the old days. You knew things were bad when he went from black robes to a white sequined jumpsuit. I get so sad, I can’t even watch. But at least he endorsed me. Lando threw his support to the blue piano-playing elephant at the last minute, saying I was weak on the malt liquor tax issue.

I could always say, “Greed killed Greedo.” I mean, that’s technically true isn’t it? But that would never hold up through all these press conferences and town hall meetings. My consultants tell me there’s shades of truth as if there’s anything subtle about a direct blaster shot to the gut. But, I know I’ll have to listen. Greedo shot first. Greedo shot first. Yeah, that version sounds better. Polls better anyway.

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My Day On NBC Sports

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If Sunday Night Football broadcast my day at work:

AL MICHAELS: Good morning bureaucracy fans and welcome to another exciting day at work with Dave. What do you look for in today’s match-up, John?

JOHN MADDEN: Well, Al, if past performance is any indicator, I’m guessing Dave will be late today. We’re always ready for a 9 A.M. kick-off but Dave is what we call a “late starter.”

AM: Whoa, wait a minute. It’s only 9:05 and here’s Dave. Have you ever seen such an early arrival before?

JM: Yes, but not often. I have to assume that he’s got a meeting.

AM: You’re right; it’s a meeting. He didn’t even glance at the computer screen. Instead he’s picked up a folder and he’s heading down the hall to the conference room.

JM: Hold onto your seats, bureaucracy fans. As a veteran player, Dave is a master of the morning meeting.

AM: His supervisor is standing up and it looks like — yes — she’s asking Dave for a progress report on his project! How can he possibly handle this unexpected offensive movement?

JM: Savvy veteran that he is, I don’t think this is going to throw him. Let’s listen in.

AM: Am I hearing right? Did he just give a whole status report off the top of his head complete with stats and future projections?

JM: That’s right, Al. From what I know, it’s all fabricated but it sounds great. But will it be good enough to fool his boss?

AM: Whoa! She bought it! Touchdown! And now here’s the conversion. It’s up…and it’s good. She’s agreed to wait until next week for the final report.

JM: Wow! He’s definitely playing without a net today, Al.

AM: He sure is, John. And look at the move on the way back to his cubicle.

JM: Can you believe it? He told Fred there were free donuts in the lunchroom and then dropped the status report file in Fred’s inbox.

AM: A perfectly executed screen play from one of the all-time great buck passers.

JM: And he still has the presence of mind to backtrack to the lunchroom, take the last of the coffee and not make a new pot.

(Lunch break)

AM: For viewers who were watching Fred’s lunchtime nap in cubicle 402, welcome back to the coverage of Dave’s day at work. It’s 2:30 and Dave is back in his cubicle. He looks a little wobbly. Is he injured John?

JM: I don’t think so, Al. We’ve got a report from Dave’s restaurant and apparently Dave had two glasses of wine with lunch today. It’s gonna be a tough afternoon for him, no doubt about it. This is where the veterans show what they’re really made of. I’ve seen Dave in worse shape than this in the morning and still make it through regulation without being touched.

AM: I don’t know, John. He’s looking a bit shaky. The head is wobbly and the eyelids are fluttering. He could be out for the count.

JM: Oh! Look at that move! He placed a dozen upturned thumbtacks on this desk. I haven’t seen a move like that since Dick in Accounting drank half a container of White-Out to stay awake.

AM: John, I’ve just got a report that Dave’s boss is headed towards his cubicle. This will show what he’s really made of.

JM: If I know Dave, he’s got a couple of tricks up his sleeve.

AM: He better, John. That porn site on his computer screen could really throw him for a big loss.

JM: What a pro! If I’m not mistaken…yes, look at that. Just before his boss enters Dave’s cubicle, he taps the mouse wheel twice and switches the porn site to an Excel spreadsheet. I wouldn’t have believed it unless I saw it.

AM: Let’s look at this again on the replay. Wow, what a play! And see there how he quickly picks up the phone, motions to his boss that it’s an important call and waves her away? Amazing. Clearly he was under the weather and not playing at 100% but was still able to pull it out. What a gutsy performance.

JM: I think even Dave realizes that he accomplished something special today which may explain why he’s leaving early at 3:30.

AM: Except no one knows he’s leaving early. Since he left his coat in his car and his computer is still on, he’s out the door before anyone realizes that he’s gone.

JM: What a performance from a veteran worker.

AM: Ordinarily we’d be back on air tomorrow morning at 9 A.M. with more of Dave. But tomorrow is a Friday so chances are our next broadcast won’t be until Monday. Or maybe Tuesday, right John?

JM: That’s right, Al. A wily pro like Dave will always keep you guessing.

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45-Year-Old Nancy Drew Reflects

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(The front door opens.)

Nancy: (flicking off Oprah) How was your day, honey?

Allen: (kicking off shoes) Long. My boss was terrible. I’m completely exhausted. How was your day?

Nancy: You know what, it was really good. This morning I got started on the dusting and ironing. After the kids left for school, though, I was rummaging through the attic and I found some of my old case files. My case files, Allen! Remember when I used to sleuth as a girl?!

Allen: Hey, here’s a case you can start on: The Mystery of the Late Dinner. Here’s a clue: it’s late because you haven’t started cooking it yet.

Nancy: Allen, I’m seriously thinking of getting back into the detective business. I used to be really good at it. Plus, the children are almost grown, and I feel like it could be really good for me.

Allen: This is just the hysterectomy talking.

Nancy: I’ve even thought of a title for my first case. I’ll call it Nancy Drew and The Mysterious Ennui.

Allen: Your name is Nancy Sampson now.

Nancy: Allen, you have no idea how moving it was. I was so young, so beautiful. This morning I just sat alone in the attic for hours, weeping quietly to myself.

Allen: Oh, that’s right, dear, go ahead and cry over your silly, girlish detective games.

Nancy: I solved over 200 cases…several involving dangerous felons! There was The Hidden Staircase, The Secret of the Old Clock, and my lesser known case, The Secret of the New Clock.

Allen: And now you can’t even manage to feed your husband? Well, guess what? I’m a detective too. At work today I just solved Women Who Reenter the Workplace and the Case of the Invisible Ceiling. Turns out it was glass. So that’s why it was invisible. It was a glass ceiling.

Nancy: Don’t you want me to have hobbies, Allen?

Allen: Of course. I just, you know, thought the bimonthly Jazzercise was enough.

Nancy: Look, I’ve even found the outfit I used to wear! After a few cycles in the washing machine, it’ll be as good as new!

Allen: Speaking of washing machines, where’s my dinner?

Nancy: I just hope it still fits. I haven’t quite solved The Mystery of the Non-Disappearing Baby Weight Paired with the Compulsive Closet Eating…

Allen: You’re telling me.

Nancy: Sleuthing would probably be good exercise, though.

Allen: Come on, you don’t need any more exercise. You and Type II Diabetes are meant to be together!

Nancy: All right, all right, you win. I guess those floors aren’t going to Swiffer themselves. I’ll just put my case files back in the attic.

Allen: What, aren’t you going to work on The Case of the Hungry Allen? Here’s a clue! He’s hungry because he just got back from work.

Nancy: (sighs) Of course, dear.

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My Skateboarding Moves Have Evolved Over The Years

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The Boneless (old)

Ride with back foot on the tail, and front foot in the middle of the board. Slide front foot off the board and put foot on the ground. Jump up into the air with hand holding the toe rail and back foot still on the tail, raising front foot back on the board. Land, typically.

The Boneless (new)

Ride with back foot on the tail, and front foot in the middle of the board. Kick the tail up violently and plummet off the curb in a violent paroxysm. Vomit. Do a Google search: “pancreas burning sensation can they explode?” Throw skateboard into drainage ditch and proceed to IKEA because we just have to have that new trestle table.

The Ollie (old)

Bend knees and press down hard with back foot while lifting front foot. When the tail of the board hits the ground, jump off the front foot and lean forward, guiding the board forward and upward. Land, presumably.

The Ollie (new)

Buy new skateboard and commence shredding. Bend knees and succumb to shin splints, causing a damaging fall, a split lip, and a trip to the emergency room. Curse wife for taking car keys after coming home last night smelling like stripper perfume. Explain that “outings” at Rick’s Cabaret are often necessary steps toward procuring new clients.

Backside 50-50 Grind on Half-Pipe (old)

Ride up the transition and do a high backside kickturn before the wheels touch the lip. Raise upper body and turn. When the back axle touches the lip, stand upright and lift body over the ramp. Turn the board back toward the ramp. Land, occasionally.

Backside 50-50 Grind on Half-Pipe (new)

Ruminate on the once keen dexterity of youth. “Hey, I’ll buy you guys beer if you let me rip your half-pipe.” Sweet. Climb up side of ramp. Look over the edge and panic. Goaded by teens drunk on warm Mad Dog 20/20, I, also drunk on warm Mad Dog 20/20 attempt to drop-in and smash teeth on the side of the ramp. After convalescence, watch self on YouTube get peed on by drunk teens while knocked out from the fall. Embarrass son, who still sees fit to forward YouTube video on to friends and 3rd grade colleagues. Run over skateboard with Volvo. Call about the toilet.

Judo Air (old)

A difficult half-pipe maneuver. After grabbing the nose during a normal backside air, take foot off the board and kick it forward pulling the board backward while the back foot is still on the board. Land, once — when nobody was looking.

Judo Air (new)

What do you think this is, the X Games? I just came do a little “skate and destroy” while the wife is over at the Gap. “Hey, do you kids have any weed? No, you’re poseurs, you little Good Charlotte groupie punks. Give me that board.” Approach half-pipe. Flee at a full-sprint and hope the car starts. With new skateboard, advance to the E-Z-Pawn over by the Panda Express and get some spending cash in exchange for the board. I recommend the orange chicken. “What time is it? Oh, man. The wife is going to kill me.”

McTwist (old)

This crowd-pleaser is another aerial that is essentially a back flip, but while still rotating on one axis, perform a backside 540 while grabbing the toe side of the board with the front hand. Once attempted this maneuver off the diving board at the neighborhood pool using a kickboard and my swimsuit fell down mid-air, revealing my privates. I still have nightmares about this. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you? No, just forget it, okay?”

McTwist (new)

At neighbor’s BBQ, tell wife — in a high-volume voice — that “the fire is gone” and that she has “turned frigid.” And there’s my friend Curt, who’s like, “That’s what you think, dude!” I could just kill him sometimes. Throw hot charcoal from the Old Smokey in Curt’s face (that’s one of those things where I overreact, but it’s because I’ve had probably like a million glasses of Chardonnay). Catch on fire along with Curt and force terrified guests to toss two grown men into the pool. Wake up nude and wet on new IKEA trestle table. I guess there is no real mention of a skateboard or even a kickboard here, but it really all goes back to the soul of skating, man. Don’t be such a poseur.

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