I’ve just discovered something. Everyone hyper-cool is in their 80s or about to be.
Sean Connery is in his 80s, both of my Grandmothers (PATERNAL and MATERNAL) are now in their 80s along with Maya Angelou, Hugh Hefner, Cloris Leachman, Betty White… the list goes on.
I guess what I am trying to say is that I wish that I was born in the 1930s so that I could be 80 and cool. I could maybe look back on my career and smile at my super sweet role on Star Trek pretending to have equal rights on the Enterprise with Spock and Kirk, constantly reminding Bones to forget his southern niceties and treat me like he would any other man, thwarting off Kirk’s fruitless advances, trying to seduce Spock and definitely not being a yoeman.
Since I can’t actually be 80-years-old, I guess I will settle for acting like I am. If you’ll excuse me gentleman, I’ve got some senior citizen discounts to take advantage of and some old co-workers to wish happy birthday to.
At the beginning of winter quarter I realized I had no business paying for a Netflix account since I only ended up watching one movie a month. I canceled my subscription and sent in my last DVD (Star Trek: season two disc three).
In short, I ceased to receive any mail whatsoever.
I still checked my mail once a week. Then, only every two weeks. Although I was expecting to find a vacant compartment each time, I still felt the need to check it and slightly sad when I was proven right.
Without Netflix and people who think I’m pregnant to keep me company, visiting the mailbox has been pretty lonely.
So, if you’d like to be my pen pal let me know. I realize this is the era of hyper fast internet but I like walking to the mailbox and, let’s be real, sometimes it’s the only exercise I get.
I won’t pay for your postage, or treasure your letters in a little cat themed scrap-book, but I promise to write back promptly and with gusto. I might even include a note from Sesapus.
I just finished watching the Star Trek episode “This Side of Paradise,” (part of my pie coma recovery plan). Dr. McCoy‘s attitude and Georgia-style southern accent after the “happy spores” sprayed him bemused me greatly.
I wish I could find a clip of him speaking in his Georgian accent but I think this montage of his most beloved line will do.
The line is now a tradition that has carried on in the more recent versions of the show.
“This Side of Paradise” is also the episode where Spock acts a little more human. Check the trailer out:
This quarter my classes and social life have been a bit challenging to manage. It is in times like these that I wish Spock was my personal life mentor.
I’m sure sometimes he gets tired of Captain Kirk’s relentless use of seduction to solve every problem and wishes he had a less predictable human to be friends with.
Someone who is constantly changing their mind, outfit and opinion on Carl Sagan‘s inability to pronounce the word “human” correctly. Someone who has irrational fears and is a hypochondriac. Someone who will not perform the words to Rocket Man so seriously. Someone who will listen when he says, “check yourself before you wreck yourself.”
Someone more along the lines of me.
Spock and I could achieve so much together.
He could calculate the exact probability of a shark biting me in the Pacific Ocean. Or tell me when I’m being irrational or neglecting my health. He could even access my subconscious mind and figure out what I really want to do in life.
In turn, I would not tell anyone how much he enjoys watching this video:
Oh Spock, if only you were real. All my problems would be solved.
P.S. For all of you who sense the homo-erotic nature of Spock and Kirk. Here is this video presented to me by Mr.Jay Moar: Star Trek + Nine Inch Nails.
Watercolor postcards for A.Johnson and B.Krstic for their 20th birthdays.