![My Pratchett Perspective on Terry's Alzheimer's]()
by Richard Timothy | Feb 23, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Pratchett Perspective, Public Service Announcement
It’s hard to believe that it’s already been three weeks since that crusty eyed morning where I decided to check my messages right after waking up and found a message from one of my readers (thanks Erin) with Terry Pratchett in the subject line and a link entitled Terry Pratchett: my case for a euthanasia tribunal.
As I read the piece I started thinking about it, the big “it”… the “what is it all about” kind of “it”. I mean I know that the situation is sad for both groups of people, the first group being the adoring fans, and the second group, still adoring fans mind you, but family and friends that know him as not just the author, but the person as well. Having personally witnessed what Alzheimer’s does to a family member, there is certain amount of laughter associated with the heartache. My mother said that when it got really bad you had to laugh to keep from crying.
I laughed because it was funny that my grandpa had forgotten what words he considered were bad and kept trying to teach them to my grandma. There is something magically endearing about a little old man trying to teach his wife (she had had a stroke) how to say “oh hell.” He would even encourage her. “Come on Nora, say damn it. Daaammn it.”
When I got to the end of the Pratchett piece I had to ask myself, if it was possible to find a smirk in all of that. Was this even the type of thing that deserved my style of commentary? After thinking about it for a good… however long it take to eat a bowl of cereal, I opted to go with my gut feeling. And, in the words of the always eloquent Foul Ole Ron, let me just say, “bugrit.”
I think as fans, when we first learned of Pratchett’s condition, we took in the full scope of what that all meant. The loss of Terry would be enviable. It was almost as if we started morning the loss of a great man who is still here with us. On a plus note, I still have a number of books to get through still before I even finish the all of the Discworld books for the first time. So, at least I have that going for me. Not to mention, I’m sure he’s still writing more Discworld stories for our eager minds to consume so that we can regurgitate laughter and joy all over anyone who might be in the same room with us as we read it work.
On thought is that it… well, it does help one prepare a bit. I mean sure personal expiration is the only guarantee we have in life, but there’s a kind of appreciation I have in knowing that it’s on its way, as opposed to the opposite end of the spectrum as with Adams unexpected end. No “so long”, no “fish”… it was just a headline that no one was really sure was real or not from the first few times of reading it. Terry’s announcement, I think, has helped prepare us, well, helped me prepare for “it.” His “it”, not my “it”. My “it” at this point is the type of “it” that would result in me exclaiming a loud “she” before the “it”.
I’m not sure why, but Rincewind has always reminded me of Pratchett, the man, not the author. I’m not sure why either. I don’t know the man at all. I mean I know what he looks likes, but I’d probably not recognize him if I bumped into him on the street. Not unless someone else was there to point it out for me. When it comes to Terry Pratchett, I know the man is an author. Oh, and because of an interview I read in the past year, I know that he loves playing Oblivion. He’s English… I’m clear on my facts in that regard, but I’m not sure about much more. Things like, when his birthday is. Who he thinks would win in a fight between an Alien or a Predator, or what he did before he did what he does now.
I’m not a very good fan am I? Maybe it’s just that I’m not a traditional stalker type fan. Ahh the stalker fan… so I had this friend whose name sounded like the name of a type of dog, but for her sake was spelled differently. She was a huge Dean Koontz fan. I mean huge. So one day, she just so happened to find herself at a Koontz book signing, which was a result of some her getting two days off from work, finding a sitter for her child for that time, getting a plane ticket to California, booking a hotel room close to the book store he was going to be at, and getting to the book store by 3AM so that she would be one of the first in line to meet him.
Out of all the things she could have said to him… the conversation broke down something like this, “I am one of your biggest fans.”
“Really?”
“I celebrate your birthday.”
“My birthday. What do you mean?”
“Yes. Every year. I bake you a cake and everything.”
Dean then writes down some notes and says, “That gives me an idea. Would you be ok with me using some of that in the book I’m currently working on?”
It was the phone call I got after this had happened where she told me about the above conversation, and then screamed in a bouncy, overly excited tone, “I’m going to be in a Dean Koontz book!” I tried telling her that this was not really a compliment. She failed to see how it could be anything other than one.
No, I’m much more of a lighthearted, “Thanks Terry” kind of fan. Sure it would be groovy to meet him, but if I don’t, it’s ok. As for my Terry aka Rincewind perspective, it’s just how I see it. He’s always seemed to me to be a bit of a reluctant hero. That is until the capital “A word” became a chapter in his life. And like those moments when Rincewind becomes fed up enough that running stops becoming the first choice of action. A choice was made to face it head on, which seems exactly what he’s doing now.
He a vocal Alzheimer’s awareness poster child and his donations, as well as his open dialogue towards assisted death, is that Rincewindian stand. Granted, it might not end all that well for him, but as he goes through his journey it is going to help an entire world of people whether he expected it to or not. It’s the type of thing a knight might do, though it’s probably best not to tell him that.
I could romanticize about the literary nobility and juxtapose it with reminiscent alter ego characters that may or may not exist. In the long run I don’t think it’s going to be all that useful. Perhaps it’s just a bunch of fluff in the imagination of a life I don’t know. What I can say is this, if there is one thing I’ve learned from Pratchett’s work, it’s the fascination of life, his fascination with life. Even Death is fascinated by the human experience called life.
As he said in the closing of his Richard Dimbleby lecture, “If I knew that I could die, I would live.” I think the world has a bit of Pratchett left in it. I like to think that part of life is about giving. We have volumes of gifted wit and wisdom from that man. I’ve gotten a few emails from readers who talked about how Terry’s books had gotten them through the harder times of their life. Giving them some comfort, hope, and even more so, giving them laughter when they didn’t think they had any left in them.
In some future day, when the headlines yell that Death has finally come for the old knight, I expect that before shaking hands he’ll wait for Terry to finish his brandy as they both listen to Thomas Tallis play on Terry’s iPod. Then after the official game for his soul is played. Then, regardless who wins, they’ll head to the desert, because it’s his choice.
I really don’t see an end though. As Pratchett has continually suggested, that’s the thing about belief. It keeps giving life to those you believe in, long after the headlines tell you they’re gone.
Any thoughts you’d like to share?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Death, Terry Pratchett, Foul Ole Ron, and happy phone call.
![My Pratchett Perspective on Terry's Alzheimer's]()
by Richard Timothy | Feb 17, 2010 | Confessed Confidentially, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
With the Seth luncheon well underway the introductions started. This is one of those things that have always confused me. There was a voice-over introduction for the lady that got on stage to introduce the lady that put the even together. Who, after getting on the stage, took the mike and introduced Seth. It’s like watching the Oscars… or as I look at it, the evening of endless introductions for introducers who introduce montages for introducing movies, or movie related topics.
It was during this all of these introductions that my random trigger, um, triggered. It was the idea of the business theme song. The point was about what your business’s theme song would be. I know what Angela’s Illuminated Woman theme song is because I hear it playing all the time. Twelve times in a row through the walls in my office last night alone. It’s… bloody hell, just a minute. I’ll get there. It’s a “we can do it” kind of theme song… If You’re Out There by John Legend. Whew. Got it. You’d think I’d have the song memorized by now.
Right, so my theme song would be… See, it’s all variables that keep me changing my mind. The thing about theme songs is that they sort of evolve into your life soundtrack. I can tell you Angela and my first theme song was Mazzy Star’s Fade into You. It has never gone away either, every time we here it, we start getting all sappy and nostalgic. We have definitely added a few more songs since then.
One song that always reminds me of Angela and I is Glósóli by Sigur Ros (on of my favorite bands of all time). And I don’t even know what the song is about. It’s in a foreign language and I’ve never bothered to look up a translation. I personally like not knowing. It makes the song that much more about us. In fact I highly recommend this practice to everyone. When you don’t understand the lyrics, you create your own lyrics in their place.
There was a stretch back in the 80’s when Axel F was my theme song. This lasted about a week. Thanks to Beverly Hills Cop. Hey, it was one of the few perfect break dance songs back then. Still, when it comes to personal theme songs I don’t think instrumentals create the same potency as lyrical songs. Sure they have some musical imagery, but I think its the lyrical painting that gives you the defining step between a good song and one of the most brilliant songs you’ve ever heard.
I know that during my first run through college my theme song was The Great Song of Indifference by Bob Geldof, because I really didn’t mind… at all. Before that I discovered the music of Bob Marley. It was my senior year of high school and for over a year I was a smitten with Jamaica and all things reggae. My musical interests were once again foundationally shaken when I was first introduced to Ani DiFranco. This fascination let to her being the only artist I’ve seen live over five times.
Then there are the “I was in love” theme songs. And after it’s all said and done you realize that you added to the epic success of a song that is so unrelentingly tedious that it has forever solidified its place in the eternal inclusion of every collection of elevator music that will ever be made here after. Not to mention you feel you need to personally apologize to the people standing around you for having purchased the song when it starts playing on the radio, or in a department store, or, inevitably, in an elevator.
There are two things that happen at this point. The people you apologized to either break down and admit that they too have contributed to the horror that is the song. Everyone then hugs and forgives one another. It can be a very freeing and healing experience. Or, people laugh at you and then beat you with sticks. If you quickly explain it was for the pursuit of coitus, they usually stop hitting you and you can forgo any trips to the emergency room. Of course, I am referring to that damn Titanic song. It’s not going away people. It’s going to be one of those things that our generation will be apologizing for, for generations to come. Let me be the first to say, WE ARE SORRY! We were young and in love! We didn’t know any better! Ahh, I feel better. Thanks.
Then there are the guilty pleasure theme songs. You know, the songs that you play in the closet, or when no one is home. The album is usually hidden on your computer 10 or more folders deep in an attempt to detour anyone from finding it. In my case, it’s usually The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, or More Human than Human by White Zombie. I’m not particularly proud of this, but I’m not going to stop listening to them either. It’s my guilty pleasure and I’m keeping it.
As for my theme song, as a writer… I kept thinking about this throughout Seth’s presentation. I’m still trying to figure it out. I thought about something from Queen? I do have my Greatest Hits: Queen CD in my car. Then again I’ve had a copy of that album in every vehicle I’ve ever owned. But no, I’m not sure any of those songs work. Besides, after years of abuse by Hollywood it runs the risk of being a touch cliché, the only exception being, FLASH… A-AH! That song never gets old.
I’m sure I could try assigning a theme song to each post I’ve done so far. If I was more musically motivated I might consider attempting the task. I might even ask my friend Dave Lockman to help with the project. (No Dave, I’m not asking, it’s just a tangent, not a project I want to take on.) One of the things I appreciate about Dave, the musical comparative posts he does from time to time. I think their well worth the read.
Well, maybe I’ll open it up to all of you. Any theme song suggestions for my Smirk blog? Or perhaps just me as a writer? I’d love to hear your suggestions.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: ashamed, Flash Gordon, and idea.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 16, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Reviewed and Recommended
The thing about Seth Godin is that you either know who he is or you don’t… which can be said about anyone really. I guess the difference is that people that know who Seth is are more apt to respond by going, “Ohh.” This is the elongated “oh” that carries with is the suggestion that the listener is both impressed and interested in what you have to say about it. As opposed to the short sounding “oh” which I believed is usually equated to, ambivalence, disinterest, and a general unspoken desire that the talker change the subject to a topic that they are can either exchange dialogue in or that is more about them specifically so they can take over the conversation.
I get there are some of you that gave me that “oh” when I mentioned Seth’s name. Now had I said I had lunch with Brad Pitt, there would be an entirely different group of people sitting up and paying attention. I suppose at some point in the luncheon I’d have to succumb to the inevitable eye candy factor of the experience and respond to all my friends that lunch with Brad was “just dreamy”. Would I have listened to what he had to say… no bloody clue, but my initial guy feeling tells me no, probably not.
Lunch with set Seth on the other hand was different that how I would imagine an imaginary lunch with Brad. I will start off by saying that Seth is an adorable little man. He’s kind of like a much younger version of that cute old man in the Pixar short Geri’s Game. He also reminds me of that little friendly good natured scientist in movies that is always trying to help save the world. Sure he’s a little quirky and oddly amusing, but once he starts talking everyone else stops talking and listens to what he has to say, because it’s going to be something important that could help the situation and others.
The lunch was really just a luncheon, with a boxed lunch consisting of pasta salad, and green, green apple (rather sour I thought), a bottle of water, a chicken pesto sandwich, and two chocolate chip cookies. I ate the cookies first. Life makes a bit more sense that way.
If I owned a restaurant I’d call it Dessert First. The whole idea would be to have people start their meal with dessert. I know when I go out to eat there is always too much food. Then, by the time I get to desert, I’m too full and am taking leftovers home with me. If you do dessert first, your dessert sales greatly exceed the common dessert sales of an average restaurant. You also fill up the customer with sweet yummy goodness, putting them in an ultimately better mood while they wait for their food. They will also get full sooner, so you can cut back the portions. The customers will eat less at the restaurant, finishing their meal sooner, and still have leftovers to take home and finish for lunch the next day. It’s a brilliant idea, and I’d go there at least once a week just to help support myself.
The lunch with Seth turned out to be a fundraiser luncheon to help assist Haiti. This meant that I was sharing my luncheon with Seth with 700 other people. Lunch was at 11 AM and Seth was presenting from noon to one, and most of the people there were not all that interested in the box lunch being offering in the first place. They were very interested in listening to Seth present though. Having read Seth’s blog from time to time over the past four to five months, I knew a little what he was about, but I’d never read any of his books. Nor did I fully realize how big of a deal he actually was in the field that he is currently fielding. Meaning, firstly, I was one of the few there who was looking forward to my little lunch, and then secondly, I was a touch curious about what this man had to say.
Half way though the presentation, I discovered I was bothered that the people who had put the event together wasted an entire hour for lunch, thus limiting our time with Seth to only an hour. I would have opted to take my lunch with me and eat it on the drive back to work as opposed to before hand. Or just give me a cookie. I’d have been happy to call it lunch if it would have resulted in getting a bit more of his presentation, which was about his newest book in his arsenal of published work. It’s called Linchpin: Are You Indispensable? How to Drive Your Career and Create a Remarkable Future. I’ll be getting myself a copy soon.
One of the things that stuck with me the most was his dialogue on art and how we are all artists. He talked about how being an artist is more than being a painter, sculptor, actor, or poet. Art is about creation. It’s about something that’s personal to the creator and something they are passionate about. For my wife, her conference is her art. For me, my art is my writing. Some artists are computer programmers. Just look at all of the apps available on the iPhone. You have over a hundred thousand artists displayed in the app store alone. I have met a massage therapist who is an amazing artist. Artists are everywhere and they are everyone. The goal is to share your art with the people that want the art you have to share.
Seth also said that art has to be original and ultimately yours, adding, “Marcel Duchamp was an artist when he pioneered Dadaism and installed a urinal in the museum. The second person to install a urinal in a museum was a plumber.”
He said we are all geniuses, and I’m inclined to agree. We all have genius in us and it’s different for everyone. Math is my anti-genius. I mean I know a number when I see one, at least I thought I did, then I learned about imaginary numbers and realized my imagination appreciates everyone and everything more if I simply tell the numbers to bugger off and use my genius for writing a piece about the manner in which I’d like imaginary numbers to buggering off and having the readers smile amusingly at that.
All in all, I dug the event, even if it seemed a little rushed and a bit too short. Also, if any of you are entrepreneurs, or have your own business, I recommend checking out two different blogs. One is Seth Godin and the other is a chap named Chris Brogan (who I’ve yet to see live, but who I’ve gotten a lot of useful information from). Both are brilliant and we worth visiting daily if you can, but at least once a week. Some days their information really won’t apply, and other days, it’s pure gold.
There was another little bit of dialogue that I found smirkingly thought provoking, so let’s talk about that tomorrow in Lunch with Seth Part 2… The ADD Version.
Have any of you see Seth live or read his books? What did you think?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Seth Godin, Geri’s game,
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 14, 2010 | Holiday Banter, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
It’s been shark week at my house. No, I have not been collecting on any debts that I have with people who owe me money… because no one owes me any money. I don’t think I could ever be the sea worthy predator that loans money to people. I like people too much. And to you Discovery Channel viewers who are contemplating writing me to call me a liar, I did say at my house. My visit to the library this past week scored a copy of a Shark Week DVD. I’ve always missed it in the past. So the opportunity to spend a few hours in front of the television to watch and learn about sharks, well, that’s just pretty damn cool.
Something happened though, when I put the DVD in. I don’t mean that the DVD loaded and started as normal. Ok, it did that, but what I am referring to is the commercial for the Discovery Channel that started playing after the DVD loaded. I wasn’t expecting that… sigh. Fine, I suppose that if I had really thought about it then I would have expected it. The ad/commercial thingy was what got to me though. It was my first time seeing this ad, and I just loved it. Here, check it out:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5BxymuiAxQ]
Click here if video did not load.
Was it the cute little jingle, or the eclectic images and people singing? Sure those things help. It think it’s the statement at the end is what sums up what I love most about the ad, which is, “The world is just… awesome.” Plus, I got to see Stephen Hawking singing “boom-de-ah-da” through his voice synthesizer in a lecture hall. That alone makes me tingle in my bulbous area, and I’m not sure what the hell that even means. All I know for certain, it just makes me happy!
Oh! I just noticed the time… it’s officially Valentine’s Day, the day of love. Unless your pagan then its about the interaction of one’s naughty bits with another individual’s naughty bits… which can definitely be part of the present day celebration, but the focus is more on the love as opposed to the loving of the lover. The present day celebration is not as, say, communal, as the pagan celebration originally was either.
Before the spread of Christianity, an ancient Roman festival called Lupercalia took place every February 15. The festival honored Juno, the Roman goddess of women and marriage, and Pan, the god of nature. The Romans celebrated their feast of Lupercalia as a lovers’ festival for young people. Young men and women chose partners for the festival by drawing names from a box.
After the spread of Christianity, churchmen tried to give Christian meaning to the pagan festival. In 496, Pope Gelasius changed the Lupercalia festival of February 15 to Saint Valentine’s Day February 14. But the sentimental meaning of the old festival has remained to the present time. This is all according to the Valentine’s Day section in a 1966 World Book Encyclopedia. Why the hell am I sharing Valentine’s Day history with you from a 1966 World Book Encyclopedia? Makes me wish I had a damn good answer. Let’s go with, I didn’t have a 1969 “Summer of Love” edition so I went with the next closed year I could get… and it’s what the site I found referenced as its source when I Googled it.
Sure Valentines Day is a day of, for, and about lovers, but it’s also a day of love. A day where we remember the love we have for others. I don’t mean romantic love here, but a love for the people in your life that you really do love and that make life worth loving. And in juxtaposition with that, as the song goes, “I love the whole world. It’s such a brilliant place.”
Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you all… and in the words of the great Steven Wright, “It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.” Cheers.
What do you think about today?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: world, Valentine’s Day, and love you all.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 12, 2010 | Confessed Confidentially, I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I’ve started creating a list of things I think I’d be willing to try that I’m typically in opposition to. Things that fall under the “doing it for the experience” chapter of life that I think everyone keeps track of, even if it is just a mental note in the imaginary book of our life. I’m not sure this chapter is ever included in biographies, but I think if they did include it, it would definitely add to any books overall readability.
I don’t consider this the same as that list people make as a “to do” list before moving on, powering down, challenging Death, passing into nothingness, or getting your wings, depending on which mythos caters to your needs best in the dying department. Apparently this list always has a connection with buckets, or something.
The basic concept of those types of lists seems to have an arch nemesis quality about them. They are commonly filled with the extremes of life, or as American marketing felt was the necessary approach X-TREMEs of life. These are often things that might put you closer to death than you were at before you started the list. Things like bungee jumping off a bridge… with no bungee cord. You know, things like that.
The list I am talking is a lot of the time about the impulse of the moment, and after saying that I can see how making this list is a bit counter productive in regards to the impulse factor. The thing is, the list is not always for future tense experiences. Instead of it being filled with things you will do, it’s also for the things you have done. So the list is not always full of positive experiences. Some of the experiences were just, well, for experience.
Going to my first and only professional bouncy ball sporting event, which oddly when put like that covers far more sporting “things” than I initially thought… basket ball, my first and only professional basketball game. It was years ago and the tickets were my tip for ordering a pizza. It was the damnedist thing. It was a snow packed afternoon and I didn’t want to cook so I ordered a pizza and when it finally arrived the first thing the delivery man asked me was if I had any plans for next Thursday night.
This caught me a bit off guard. I told him I thought he was cute and was sure he was a lovely person, but he really wasn’t my type. His eyes opened uncomfortably wide while he replayed the whole conversation back in his mind. It reminded me of a baby’s face when it is being tossed in the air. During that freefall phase, there is always that “why the hell are you doing this to me” look of horror. 
It isn’t until they are caught they start smiling and giggling again… or crying. I’ve seen plenty as well. The delivery boy did not cry, instead he caught himself. When he realized what he had said he smiled, and explained that I had won two tickets to a Jazz game, who is only professional sports team that Utah has, I think.
My first impulse was to sell them. Then I started thinking. Perhaps going to a live game would give me some additional perspective to help me better understand the personal mystery that is sports. I asked a friend to go with who was actually a fan of the team and the sport, thinking it might help. It didn’t… well it did in the sense that he could tell me what color of team jersey I should be cheering for based on our proximity to the surrounding fans and who they were cheering for. As for sport appreciation, I still don’t get it, but I went damn it. I did it for the experience.
Sky diving in bowling shoes was another one of these things to add to my experience list. I dug that one though. I went with my two little sisters. It was Steph’s 18th birthday present to herself. It was good, good day. Trying wine for the first time during my first trip to Italy was another experience for the list that just sort of stuck, which should help explain my affinity for Italian wines. It was in the town of Manarola, in Cinque Terre. Sigh, I love that place. Spending a summer in San Francisco turned out to be one of those “seemed like a good idea at the time” experiences, which landed on the “did it for the experience” list with one of those “disastrous experience” asterisks placed right at the beginning, in bold.
Who knows maybe some day I’ll post about each one of these little experiences, but it would probably be a result of a “did it for the experience” for blogging while inebriated.
Things that I’ve recently thought of that I’d probably throw on the list are:
- Sampling a pint of Guinness in a pub in England or Ireland. Having never tried beer in any country, and really having no desire to try any, sampling some Guinness in a pub setting has doable element to it. Sample being the clarifying word in that. Sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot commit to anything more than a sampling at this point.
-
Go to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field and eat a ball park frank. I really don’t care about seeing them play, but I’d like to put the eating a frank at Wrigley Field on my list, and I don’t eat hot dogs. I’ve haven’t since I learned with they were made of some 20+ years ago.
- Drinking a correctly made cup of tea is something that made my list of required experiences ever since two days ago when I came across that section in The Salmon of Doubt, and just might just happen this weekend.
- Sitting in a tub of jell-o might belong on my list. Sure it sounds wrong on multiple levels, but if it goes bad I imagine the worst that would happen is that it could result in an international campaign of “shit you should never do”. Ohhh…
- Create an international campaign for “shit you should never do”.
- And… spend more than 15 minutes creating my things to get to for my “did it for the experience” list.
The nice thing about these lists, they are always a work in progress. Although, don’t confuse this with an excuse or justification list. If your actions result in emotionally or physically hurting another person and you try to claim you did if for the experience… no! Piercing your naughty bits is something one might do for the experience. Hurting someone for the experience defines you as a douche and places you right below that ring of nasty growth that forms in the toilet if you stop cleaning it for s few weeks on the list of brainless life forms.
How about you? What is something you’d put on your “for the experience” list?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: to do list, Utah Jazz, Manarola Cinque Terre, and Wrigley Field.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 8, 2010 | Confessed Confidentially, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I love Trekkies. Not because I am one, and not because I want to be one. I mean I have never had the opportunity to play one on television, nor have I ever gone to a convention, but I think I’d like to… on both counts. I mean, I did go to the new Star Trek on opening night… on an IMAX screen no less, but I didn’t initiate it. A friend invited me. It was a lot of fun though, and for the record, going to a movie with a theater full of devout fans really adds to the delight factor of the film. The only exception being the last three, which were actually the first three Star Wars movies, episodes 1 and 2 anyway… the second one was so bad I boycotted the third one and have still not seen it. I mean let’s be honest, after episode 2 ended… I witnessed a theater of adult males openly crying out of sheer disappointment, I mean let’s face it that was the day the power of the force lost all its power.
I guess more than anything, I just like the idea of Trekkies. Now before I go any further, I know that there are going to be those that get a bit frumpy at my use of the word Trekkie as opposed Trekker. I never even knew this was an issue in the Star Trek fan microcosm until I watched the documentary Trekkies.
Apparently, a Trekkie is one kind of fan and a Trekker is another, but no one can really agree what the official definition of each term is. So I think it breaks down to which word you like the sound of most, that’s what you will label yourself as. I guess in a vague way it’s the difference between calling yourself a Buddhist or Zen Buddhist, or maybe a Catholic or a Protestant, a Druid or a Wiccan, a cat person or a dog person… paper or plastic. The core perspective is the same, it’s just the label is what is different.
So left them fight… better make that debate. Let them vigorously debate about it all they want, but honestly people, WWGRD, What Would Gene Roddenberry Do? 
I do have some friends that are Trekkie-ish, which enables me to be a bit of a vicarious Trekkie, which I do enjoy the hell out of. I participate by buying these friends the occasional action figure, or toy phaser, or a USS Enterprise model with buttons that make launching photon torpedo sounds and such. I have three words for you Star Trek marketing gurus… Star Trek Legos! They would sell like, like Margaritas in Cancun. Mmmm, margaritas, sigh…
(Note to self, stop by the liquor store on my way home from work.)
Right, so about this vicarious Trekkie thing, this also means that I can watch the television shows and enjoy the movies, well, except for 5, UNLESS, yes there is actually a way to sit through and enjoy Star Trek 5. It’s called RiffTrax. Thanks Mike! Still, all of this enjoyment aside, I don’t really invest in anything more Trekkie than that. I don’t go to club meetings. I don’t know any substantial Star Trek trivia. I mean I know Kirk was a captain and a man-whore, and has the middle initial T. I know that Spock is really Leonard Nimoy, or maybe it’s the other way around. And I know that if some bloke on the away team is sporting a red jumper, I’ll be taking two drinks once he inevitably dies (one of the rules when playing a Star Trek drinking game).
I know some people give Trekkies a hard time mainly because they don’t really get it, but I’d like to point out that they make the extreme acceptable. They gave the people the ok, to dress up and go to movies. I mean Comic-Con would still be a groovy idea that a few guys had one night hanging out in the garage playing their Atari 2600 if it had not been for the clear message of support and success fans continue to give Star Trek. They have helped infect the world with the belief that it’s ok to be an adult and dress up when it’s not Halloween.
Besides, I absolutely love the random and creative discussions that come about as a result of this type of fan participation. Things like, who would win in a fight between a Jedi and a Vulcan. To which I think we all know the answer, neither, because it would be both illogical and in conflict with the way of the force. Granted a Sith and a Vulcan, that is a different story. All I know for sure (which I’m completely making up) is that if that Vulcan were in fact Spock, hands down, that Sith would be Spock’s bitch every single time… no exceptions.
I don’t see this as any than sporting debates and the fanaticism about fantasy football, or any other fantasy sporting events that people obsess about. Personally, I don’t see a lot of difference between a sports hero and a superhero. I mean sure the Flash might be able to steal bases better than Ty Cobb, but my guess is that he probably can’t hit worth a damn. Well, that and one is real person and the other is a fictional character.
So, when it comes to life as a proxy Trekkie, as long as I have friends who are willing to believe and engage, I’m happy to support them with Pez, toys, the occasion Star Trek movie marathon, and, yes, if needed, my personal contribution in helping them down a warp core breach.
Live long and na-nu… or something.
Any of you have your own kind of vicarious fanism?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: warp core breach, Trekkie, Trekkies Spock, and wwrgd.
It’s hard to believe that it’s already been three weeks since that crusty eyed morning where I decided to check my messages right after waking up and found a message from one of my readers (thanks Erin) with Terry Pratchett in the subject line and a link entitled Terry Pratchett: my case for a euthanasia tribunal.
When I got to the end of the Pratchett piece I had to ask myself, if it was possible to find a smirk in all of that. Was this even the type of thing that deserved my style of commentary? After thinking about it for a good… however long it take to eat a bowl of cereal, I opted to go with my gut feeling. And, in the words of the always eloquent Foul Ole Ron, let me just say, “bugrit.”
I’m not sure why, but Rincewind has always reminded me of Pratchett, the man, not the author. I’m not sure why either. I don’t know the man at all. I mean I know what he looks likes, but I’d probably not recognize him if I bumped into him on the street. Not unless someone else was there to point it out for me. When it comes to Terry Pratchett, I know the man is an author. Oh, and because of an interview I read in the past year, I know that he loves playing Oblivion. He’s English… I’m clear on my facts in that regard, but I’m not sure about much more. Things like, when his birthday is. Who he thinks would win in a fight between an Alien or a Predator, or what he did before he did what he does now.
“Yes. Every year. I bake you a cake and everything.”
I could romanticize about the literary nobility and juxtapose it with reminiscent alter ego characters that may or may not exist. In the long run I don’t think it’s going to be all that useful. Perhaps it’s just a bunch of fluff in the imagination of a life I don’t know. What I can say is this, if there is one thing I’ve learned from Pratchett’s work, it’s the fascination of life, his fascination with life. Even Death is fascinated by the human experience called life.
