It’s been 38 years since the original Star Wars movie was released in theaters, so I’m fully aware that many of you probably weren’t even born yet. As for me, I was 20 years old and enrolled at the State University of New York at Stony Brook on the north shore of Long Island.

It was the summer after my senior year and I still needed one more semester to graduate so I hung around school and partied straight through to September. Some friends heard about this amazing sci-fi movie so we dropped acid and went to see it. Hey, don’t judge me. There’s a time and a place for everything, and it’s called college.

The experience was indescribable, but I’ll give it a try. When Imperial troops took control of Princess Leia’s rebel ship and Darth Vader held the rebel leader up by his neck, snapped it, and tossed him to the wall like a rag doll, I sort of freaked out and nearly had a panic attack.

And when Luke Skywalker discovered his parents had been murdered and he just stood there in the dessert, watching the sun set (maybe there were two suns, I can’t remember) with that tragic look in his eyes while that incredible music rose to a crescendo, I nearly burst into tears.

The cantina scene, on the other hand, was just plain weird. Definitely a low point. But once we met the galaxy’s first swashbuckling cowboy, Han Solo, and his faithful dog … I mean Wookie, Chewy, all was forgiven. I’d always dreamed that my dog could talk. How cool was that, huh?

Near the end, when Luke blew up the Death Star, it felt like I was the young hero who saved the galaxy. And when Princess Leia hung medals on everyone’s necks, I totally fell head-over-heels in love with Carrie Fisher. Then it ended and the whole theater erupted in cheers and applause. What a trip.

I’ve seen that movie and all the other Star Wars films countless times since but it was never like that again, that’s for sure.

Look, I know that sounds like some sort of tribute to hallucinogenic drugs, but it’s not. It’s just a story of how I lost my Star Wars virginity. No more, no less. Growing up in the 60s and 70s was definitely an eye-opening experience, and I am better for it, but only because I somehow managed to survive it. Barely.

If any kids happen to read this, I’m going to channel Mr. Mackey, the South Park school counselor, and say, “You shouldn’t do drugs. Drugs are bad, m’kay?” There you go.

So spill it: Where were you when you lost your Star Wars virginity? Inquiring minds want to know.