Stumped About Star Wars

I was first introduced to the Star Wars trilogy by my brother-in-law. He saw the geek within me and wanted to nurture this per-pubescent into watching only quality science fiction. I then became obsessed with Star Wars, and was extremely geeked when Episode I came out. It sucked. Keeping my head up I powered through Episode II, hoping there was some redemption in it. There was not. I finally got to the third one with the knowledge that this episode showed the creation of Darth Vader, so clearly there was no way that Lucas could screw this one up right? Wrong. I am very stumped about this fact. How can one person do three fantastic movies and then three crappy movies? Was it all him or did the writers fail as well?
This constant confusion over Star Wars keeps me up at night ( as well as the questions What am I doing with my life? and what is the meaning of life?)
What is even more distressing is that he keeps going back the originals and changing things in those movies. Hey! George Lucas, if it is not broke, don't fix it!
If you would care to defend your actions, I patiently wait for your reply.

The odiferous geriatric house.

Elderly people are quite the eccentric bunch to study. They contain the wisdom of the past, yet young people never seem to take them seriously, as if the elderly were never once young. They were. And as I sit here contemplating my various relationships with geriatrics (and believe me I know a lot) I came upon a startlingly weird conclusion: their houses have a very specific smell. Now I know that EVERY house has a specific smell, but this smell is different. It's like years of dust, cooking smells, perfume, shampoo, cleaning products, and sometimes cigarettes all combine to create a very specific smell that I now identify as the old-people-house smell. Not that this is a bad thing, necessarily but I am always left wondering, what is that smell? Or perhaps there is a stigma that the  housing of the elderly smells? Perhaps then I shall conduct an experiment. Walk into random houses blindfolded and attempt to guess the age of the persons living there. I doubt the general public would very much dislike a random blind-folded girl barging in on their house, smelling the air and then shouting out a bunch of numbers, so perhaps I will wear a sign around my neck explaining my experiment. Until then, I shall continue to enjoy the company of my geriatric friends.