I don’t know about you, but farms make me think of Luke Skywalker.

My mother grew up on a dairy farm, and I spent my childhood hanging out on that farm – where my grandparents still lived – but the actual farming had pretty much stopped by that point. I have distant memories of cows, but my grandfather had already moved on to carpet installation and bartending at a nearby supper club to pay the bills. But there was still a huge barn and huge fields, and since my grandfather rebuilt them for fun, plenty of old tractors to play on.

But we never played “farm.” I don’t care who you are, in the mid-80s, no matter what the location or terrain, kids played Star Wars. As I’ve stated in the past, it was a Federal Law.

The old Farmall tractor was the Millennium Falcon, of course. The barn was the Death Star, duh. The sandbox was that big hole monster from Return of the Jedi. I was Han Solo because I was the coolest of my cousins.

OK, I was C-3PO.

Actually, thinking back, unless part of that farm could somehow be re-imagined as a spaceship or a planet I’d seen in a Star Wars movie, I pretty much didn’t go near it. That’s a shame because the farm had a lot of cool stuff on it, including some amazing stretches of old woods.

Fast-forward to now, and I find myself getting a chance to play farm for real. And by “play,” I mean “work on a.” See, my wife finally purchased us a membership to a local Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) farm. She’s wanted to join a CSA for years, but every growing season something always got in the way. We’d always miss the registration deadline or be eight months pregnant or something. Well, this year was different.

My wife has led the charge on this, but I’m starting to get pretty excited. We’re now one small part of a CSA located south of Eau Claire. If you’re not familiar with the whole CSA concept, here are the basics, courtesy of LocalHarvest.org:

•     “A farmer offers a certain number of “shares” to the public. Typically the share consists of a box of vegetables, but other farm products may be included. Interested consumers purchase a share (aka a “membership” or a “subscription”) and in return receive a box (bag, basket) of seasonal produce each week throughout the farming season.”

    There are lots of variations on this model. Our CSA lets you work on the farm to supplement some of the cost, and that’s what I’m most excited about. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to enjoy the fresh, locally grown, organic food. I’m going to enjoy the crap out of it. But I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty. I just hope that, as I’m pulling weeds, I don’t bust out with some sweet light saber fighting or awesome laser blaster sound effects. I mean, it’s what I know.

The concept of Community Supported Agriculture totally resonates with me in a “holy crap that makes total sense” kind of way. For me, you’re just cutting out the middle man and taking much greater control of the food you buy. On a basic consumer level, I feel good about spending my money on something of high quality. I also feel empowered (empowered!) by knowing exactly where this food I’m eating comes from and how it got to my belly.

And, of course, there’s all the good stuff that comes from buying anything local, what with the supporting of the local economy and the not wasting of the diesel fuel, etc. Oh, and if I can help protect family farms from dying out, that’s a huge frickin’ plus, as well.

But back to the whole “getting your hands” dirty thing. It’s good for you. It’s good to work hard at something like growing food. I don’t have any grand illusions about the work we’ll be doing on the CSA – it won’t be hardcore farming. But I’ll be a hell of a lot closer to the earth than I am now. And as my wife likes to point out, the experience will be like magic to our little kids. Our daughter already calls it “our farm,” and the things she’ll be seeing – people working in the dirt, sheep and chickens running around, seeds evolving into the food she’ll be eating – all that will probably teach her things I can’t even fathom right now.

Some day I’ll show my kids how to make laser blaster sounds while diving behind an old corn combine. But until then, I’m just glad they’ll get to spend time on a real, working farm.

This time around, I’m pretty sure I get to be Han Solo.