I love you, Padme

     This will take a minute. My son was the right age when the second three Star Wars movies came out. We joked about which woman we liked. He liked Princess Amidala; I liked Padme, never mind that they were the same person. 

     Somewhere along the way he acquired some action figures and among them was the Padme character.   I immediately confiscated it. Over the years she disappeared and reappeared and somehow ended up with me here at the East Pole, standing Titanic-like on the bow of a model tugboat I used to demonstrate tanker rescue maneuvers.     They are on a shelf above my desk here.

     Fast forward to tonight. When I first moved in to the cabin at the East Pole, I bought a bottle of scotch. Here I am thirty years later and I finally opened it. Listening to music and watching the sunset and moonrise change Denali, I chanced to turn and look out the window over the desk and there, silhouetted by the twilight sky stood  Padme, defiant and proud on the bow of that little wooden tugboat. A striking figure at once symbolizing strength and an overwhelming allure. 
     It took a moment to come back to reality, and I make no apologies.

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