Many of my high school weekends were spent at my friend Melissa's house, in her hot-tub located in the gameroom. The hot tub was shaped like the state of Texas and much of my time was spent slinking around the panhandle and then into what would be west Texas to get out when the water got too hot for comfort. Melissa, a huge Star Trek fan, insisted that pictures of Spock hang all around the tub. None of these bad boys were framed, however, and after a while, they all started to curl up from water damage. Even so, it was a little too much Spock for me, and I couldn't figure out that from all the dork-ass characters that populated the show (she'd forced me to watch one, much like I had to read one romance novel per her rule -- You can't criticize something you know nothing about!), she'd fixated on what had to be the absolute dorkiest. Being the close-minded Philip Roth-obsessed snot I was, I asked her, Why Star Trek? More importantly, why must I look at his Leonard Nimoy's teeny-tiny TV Guide picture next to the big posters of Tom Selleck and David Hasselhoff? She started in on the perfect world of Star Trek, no fighting, all peace, all the time, and how troubled Spock was because of his half-Vulcan background. He could express some emotions, but in a very limited way. That much made sense. At least, I thought, it would prepare her for dating in a more realistic way than the bodice-ripping Moonlight and Magic crap that littered her shelves, with men looking like Fabio holding women who looked troubled and beautiful.
Nonetheless, seeing Mr. Nimoy's vile little visage so often made me develop an irrational dislike for him. That was before I ever even saw his poetry book, You and Me, (his poetry is worse than even most celebrity offerings like Jimmy Carter or Ali Sheedy) or his angry pronouncement text, I Am Not Spock. Once those came into light, it was all over. But I thought a lot about what it must be like to be cast in a role that you couldn't shake, so much so that you had to write a book about it. I don't hear much about the show like I used once did. But I still see Spock, doing his little Vulcan gesture on a commercial against athritis pain. The money from the Aleve people must have gone a long way in taking the sting out of hands! He doesn't look much older than he did back in those long gone hot tub days, his face getting more and more wrinkled each day in the steamy garage/rec room, not quite fitting in with all the other stuff on the wall, which may have been the point all along.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"The demons are innumerable, arrive at the most inappropriate times and create panic and terror... but I have learned that if I can master the negative forces and harness them to my chariot, then they can work to my advantage." Ingmar Bergman
Drinking music suggestion: Live at Newport John Lee Hooker
Benedictions and Maledictions
Since we're at the start of October, any Halloween suggestions for the month are welcome!