Phooey! Crag-nabbit!

You seen this new “Star Wars” internet projection? Barb showed it to me yesterday morning. She said the grandkids like it, so I guess she’s trying to figure out prospective Christmas gifts for the sprouts.

I’ll tell you this much, though: we aren’t buying our munchkins any of this non-sensible jibber jabber. No “Star Wars” toys in our household.

Why? Because it’s dumb. You aren’t going to win a war with an inanimate object. Newton taught us that 500 years ago.

That’s the problem with the new generation: it’s always reaching for something new. “Tried-and-true” means nothing to you all anymore. We lay down a sidewalk and you drag your butts through the woods.

Let me clue you in on what a star is: it’s a sun. Go open your blinds and look at that bright thing. That’s a star. You’re going to fight a war with that?

Here’s a guess: you’re going to try to put it out with water? Listen here, you’re not getting anywhere near that thing with a bottle of Dasani. You’ll burn up on the spot. You’ll lose this war, mark my words.

What did stars even do to us? They’ve been there for hundreds of years. They give us food.

Barb! Get over here. Yes, I’m doing my breathing. Get the Prozac. Thanks, hon.

I just don’t want my offspring living in this wishy-washy, etheral Hogwarts plane where life works sideways. You know what I want for my grandkids? College degrees. I want them to go to plumbing school. There’s a real war: keeping your pipes clean.

So listen up, George Lucas. You’re not getting under our tree, and you’re fighting an uphill battle. I wish the best for you, but we know how this’ll end.