I've Got a Bad Feeling about This   Since I don't have a dog in
this fight—not my childhood, kiddo, and we all know Disney will
eat everything one day—it surprised me to notice I wasn't
totally indifferent. An as yet not-quite-formulated regret was
creeping in, despite my basic allergy to Lucas and the Millenium
Falcon he rode in on. While I've never bought into the "Star
Wars killed the movies" rap that some of my crustier colleagues
like to peddle, the whole franchise's appeal has never exactly
caught me up in its fever.  I didn't even see the original until
months after it had conquered the world, when it showed up
paired with Roger Vadim's Barbarella at a second-run movie
palace in New York's East Village. Already a convert to the
Force, the high-school pal who dragged me there insisted that we
had to sit through Star Wars first, knowing that otherwise I'd
bail on him as soon as Barbarella (which I did want to see) was
over. Since then, he's raised two kids to adulthood on a steady
diet of Star Wars mania