Category Archives: Stuff

Leonard Nimoy (aka Spock)

I have been surprisingly weepy since learning of Leonard Nimoy’s death. 

The first notice I got was a text from my son: ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

Then I looked at Twitter. And have been looking at the Internet & clicking on links off and on since them.

So. Many. Feels. And I’m surprised by this.

Although, digging in to it, I guess it’s really not that surprising. 

I was born in December 1966, so there has never been a day in my life that Star Trek and Spock (and Kirk, Scotty, Bones, Uhuru, Sulu, Chekov, Nurse Chapel, etc.) have not existed. Of course, by the time I was old enough to watch it, it was already in syndication. I honestly don’t know when I first saw it, but I have memories of specific episodes that feel very old, as in I was a child when I watched them. Plus, there were some boys in elementary school – first, second, or third grade — who liked to chase girls (me) and use the Vulcan nerve pinch on us (me). I’m thinking of you, Clinton. เฒ _เฒ 

We didn’t have a TV from the time I was 8 until I was 16, so I missed a lot. Anything I saw was piecemeal at friends, at grandparents. But still Star Trek was there. And I have since seen every episode of every series (except animated) and all of the movies — and all more than once. One of my brothers even had a Tribble toy at one point. I have enjoyed each and every piece of the Star Trek universe as each new addition plays clear homage to what has come before. And I’m sure I will enjoy what comes next, hoping and dreaming that someday our reality will catch up with the vision…

But back to Spock. Who was alien. But not. Intelligent but somewhat awkward when it came to interpersonal relationships. Who clearly felt things deeply but worked hard to keep those feelings under control and hidden. Who valued reason and logic and responsibility and honesty and loyalty and was fascinated by the universe around him — the people, places, and things.

Other than the facts that I was a young female and he was a grown male, I could relate to, sympathize and empathize with Spock. That was me I saw on TV. I knew what it was like to feel that I wasn’t really part of the group, to not understand why people were saying and doing certain things. Why they needed to pick on me. But, like Spock, I could react with cool detachment and move on.

I’m not so different today, just more aware and accepting of my differentness — and of others.

I was never going to be the daring and dashing Captain Kirk. But I could be Spock — equally heroic in his own reserved way.

And now, while Spock will live on, the amazing man who made him so real for so many of us is gone. It leaves a hole, an emptiness.

I wish I could say I was familiar with all Leonard Nimoy’s work, but until the past few days I didn’t know just how much he’d done — TV, movies, stage, acting, directing, singing, writing, poetry, photography… I knew about Fringe and thrilled to see him as William Bell. And his distinctive voice on The Big Bang Theory. I have lots to go look for and watch…

And beyond all the above, he was clearly a wonderful and caring human being.

As Spock or as himself, Leonard Nimoy  is and always shall be an inspiration for me.

Live Long and Prosper, and Boldly Go.


This Summer Evening

I’m out on the back deck because right now it’s cooler outside than in because of a storm rolling in. One of the cats is here too, curled up on a nearby chair.
In my yard I hear birds, our fountain, insects.


I can hear neighbors in their yards.
A short distance away I can hear cars* on the nearby road — one of the major roadways in town.
Farther off, train horns sound. Far away enough that I don’t know exactly where the trains are, but still close enough to hear them clearly.
And still far off, but getting closer, louder, more frequent, there is thunder. Long rolling rumbling bursts of it. Occasionally there is also a brisk uptick to the air movement, and for a brief moment a cool wind rushes past.
Will there be rain, too? Looking at the weather map, it appears likely. But it wouldn’t be the first time if it just skirts around us. Storms are…. Not sure of a good word for it… Rather random around here. We’ll get drenched while two miles away stays bone dry. Or vice versa.
So I’ll wait a while longer, lingering out here where it’s cooler, with my phone & a book & the cat, hoping for a good refreshing rain.


*apparently I write about cats too much as evidenced by autocorrect wanting this to be ‘cats’ not ‘cars’ ~lol~

It’s been almost a month…

And I’m ready to start writing again. A little, anyway. Clearly I needed the break after April, as it’s only in the past week that I’ve felt the ‘itch’. I’m even ready to get back to doing morning pages — something I haven’t done in such a long time I can’t even find the notebook I was last writing in ~bad bad Robin~.

So now I’m off to the store for new notebooks & stickers & whatever else I find to feed the flame ๐Ÿ™‚

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