A satisfying meal.

Rating: 9/10 (18 December 2015)

There is always a spice or two missing, a criticism because we are old and wise and worthy of opinion because we were "there" in 1977... but the *real* review is this:
We have our meat.
We have our fat.
We have our bits to debate.
We have new characters to criticize harshly and love them anyway.
We have our new bad guys to hate the fact that we love them.
We have our new good guys over which to deliberate the reasons why we love them.
We have our new droid that still won us over in spite of our criticism why we should not accept him into our realm. (Damn Cutie®! Stop being cute!)
We have our era to mourn and to remind us it is time to pass on the Fandom Authority to the six-year-olds now filling the seats in their stormtrooper pajamas and fuzzy Chewbacca slippers.
Remember, my dearest Rebels, this is about those raspberry-blue tongues you saw in the theater groping blindly for soda straws while bulging eyes stare affixed at the big screen in awe of what was going to happen next.
Remember that moment? That riveted awe? That was *you* back in 1977.
*WE* have our favorite ships. We have favorite lightsabers. We have our favorite— *back*.
We have our favorite back.
We are fed.
And fed so completely that I feel like I just ate a Thanksgiving Dinner even if the kids didn't get quite the turkey right. I lay my head upon this couch and reach out my damaged hand. "Here, child, take my toy lightsaber and carry on the tradition."
I shall now nap in peace.