I remember a t-shirt I saw once, years ago in the fall of 1980… the fall after The Empire Strikes Back came out, the fall Ronald Reagan was vying against Jimmy Carter for the White House. The shirt was worn by a kid at my middle school, and it read, simply, “George Lucas for President.”

It seemed like a good idea at the time. That was how much we loved the bearded man from Modesto, California, the creative genius (or so we used to think) who’d given Generation X such a bountiful gift, an entire universe in which to let our imaginations roam, and who upended virtually everything about the way movies were made, distributed, marketed, and merchandised. To us, he was like Walt Disney must’ve been for our parents, a benevolent wizard who fulfilled fantasies we hadn’t even known we’d had and changed the world while doing it. We felt like we knew him, and we revered him. He was our hero.

But that was a long time ago… before the Great Disillusionment and the Fanboy Wars. These days, Lucas is routinely dismissed by many, and especially by the most passionate fans of his creation, as a hack… a greedy, no-talent megalomaniac who somehow got tremendously lucky, and whose only interest all along has been in selling the action figures we were all too eager to buy… and that we continue to buy, even as we curse the name of this master mesmerist who’s cast such a powerful spell over us that we can’t stop ourselves from reaching for our wallets.

None of that is true, or fair, in my estimation. As far as I’m concerned, the man still deserves our respect for creating the Star Wars universe (not to mention Indiana Jones), even if we (collectively) don’t especially approve of where he chose to take it.

Look, I’m no apologist. I feel a lot of frustration toward George Lucas, most notably with his obstinate insistence on suppressing the pre-1997 editions of the original trilogy. I’m frankly disappointed by many of the creative decisions he’s made, and many of the things he’s said, over the last 17 years. But at the same time, I cannot condemn him for the sin of being human. For getting older and revealing his limitations. For not taking his creation as seriously as we fans always have. For not loving Star Wars in exactly the same way we do. For feeling bitter at the fans who begged him for more, but then turned on him so viciously when they didn’t get what they expected. I disagree with him on many points, yes, but I also have a lot of sympathy for him. He really is just a guy from Modesto, a guy who created this crazy thing that grew beyond anything he ever could’ve dreamed.

So in the spirit of compassion for a one-time hero who turned out to have feet of clay, but who nevertheless must be given credit where it’s due, I’d like to raise a glass tonight to The Great Flanneled One, the Maker himself, George Lucas, on the occasion of his 70th birthday.

If it were possible for me to speak with him for a moment, I wouldn’t give him shit about Greedo firing first, or about Jar Jar Binks. I wouldn’t even hit him up about getting the real original trilogy on BluRay. Instead, I’d just say, “Thank you, George. Thanks for contributing to my happy childhood, and for providing me with so much pleasure and so much to think and talk about over the years.” Because in the end, no matter where the Star Wars franchise goes in the future, no matter where it is right at this moment, that’s his great achievement, and his legacy. And that’s worth celebrating.