Guest Blogger: Jon Rivera. Topic: Jabba Glob

Since my buddy Jon Rivera asked me to write the introduction to his graphic novel, Heartbreak, I asked him to return the favor by guest blogging on my current topic of interest- G
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It's 1:40am as I lay in bed, in the darkness I hear the faint single vibration of my cell phone signaling a text message. My eyes still blurry, I grab my phone to see what this emergency/possible booty text is all about. I check the sender, it's Gerard.

"Can you write a guest blog about jabba glob?"

This is how we roll on the next level.

In the summer of 1999, Gerard, Mikey, and I waged a holy war on sanity and our bank accounts with the release of The Phantom Menace (or simply "MENACE" as it became known to us).

Mikey built a wall of Darth Mauls, I caressed my Naboo Starfighter as if I was comforting a lover, and Gerard wouldn't eat food if it wasn't officially licensed by Lucasfilm.

But amongst the Jedi hair braids, pod racer notebooks, and lightsaber pencil sharpeners lay Jabba Glob. Sure, he was just rubber Jabba the Hutt figure that puked up space frogs. But there was something more, a tantalizing mystique.

Sadly, Neither Jabba nor his glob played much of a role in Episode 1. So why does this figure exist? What is a slug gangster doing with such a look of serenity on his face? Why did he not come with a bowl for his space frogs?

He seemed the outcast. Unpopular and irrelevant. Connected, but slightly out of sync with the other figures. Maybe we loved Jabba Glob because in our hearts we felt like Jabba Globs.

Jabba Glob, so seemingly carefree, but with him an air of melancholy. For you see, Jabba only had one glob. They did not sell refills, and to add non official Star Wars slime to Jabba Glob would have surely resulted in injury or death.

You only got one shot at this glob, so you had to make it count.

If that dosent tell you a little something about life then you are willfully ignorant at best.

During that summer, Gerard bought me a Jabba Glob for my 19th birthday. The package of slime lays sealed under my bed to this day, waiting for it's moment.

Hundreds of years from now, my widow will sit on a hill, spoon feeding my ashes into Jabbas mouth. As my remains mix with one fluid ounce of glob...she will find comfort. Knowing that I've finally gone home.

-Jonathan Rivera
New Jersey
3:32 AM

***note photo included, taken in his room.