Eclipse

On November 18, 2013,  this was my blog entry.

And, it happened, just as predicted.  I was in Idaho, visiting my brother, and we saw it from his friends' house in Menan Buttes, just north of Idaho falls.

The weather was perfect.  It took a while from the moment the moon started to obscure the sun until totality, but what a show.

It was worth it.  I may never see anything in nature so spectacular.   I'm already looking forward to the next one, in 2024.

The Girl with the White Parasol

There's a famous quote from the classic film Citizen Kane by Mr. Bernstein:

"A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember.  You take me.  One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off.  A white dress she had on.  She was carrying a white parasol.  I only saw her for one second.  She didn't see me at all, but I'll be a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl."

I only recently saw this film.  It has been hailed as a masterpiece, perhaps the greatest film ever made. I'll leave that discussion for the film students and critics.  It was a great film, and I appreciated the story and filmmaking technique.  That line, however, struck me.  After the film was over, I got to thinking - what is my "girl in the white parasol" moment?  A snapshot of something that I saw, or something that happened that turned out to have no meaning in my life, yet I'll never forget it.

It doesn't have to be a snapshot, though, or a brief encounter.  "The Girl in the White Parasol" can be the sum of moments, or an opportunity not taken, or a period of time that you never will forget.

That time was spring through fall 1984.  I met a girl in class, and, well, I was rude and a king-size jerk.  There was maybe some chemistry there, or from what I could tell as a twenty-year-old boy. But I blew it.  I saw things that were not there, perceived slights or dismissals that were nothing of the sort.  I gave up.  I withdrew. I tossed aside what was very possibly the best thing that happened to me in my young life.  The years passed.  In my "Girl in a White Parasol" moment, I would think of her from time to time.

My mother lives in an assisted living facility.  After a few years of living there, she, my brother and I decided to sell the house I grew up in.  While getting it ready for sale, I went through many notebooks, papers, and other things from my high school and senior years.  In a manila envelope, in a safe place, I found the letters that girl from 1984 wrote me that summer.  We exchanged letters while we were apart.  As I read them, I so wanted to go back in time and shake the 20-year-old me until my teeth rattled.  She was such a beautiful and sweet person, and I was so clueless.

I'm sure everyone has moments like these, moments they wished they could go back and do things right.  This, for me, is more than that.  I want so much to reach out to her, to say how sorry I was, and to hope she was blessed with all the happiness and warmth she deserves.  As for me, there will always be that moment, that chance in time lost forever.

The episode "Darmok" of Star Trek: The Next Generation - a Different Perspective

"Darmok" from Star Trek:The Next Generation is pretty much a consensus "top 10" episode on the list of Trek fans, and it is a fantastic episode with some wonderful ideas and themes.

In it, the Enterprise crew encounters aliens who speak in words we can understand, but their language is made up of metaphors that are common to their culture and way of life, but about what our crew knows nothing.  So, for instance, when the aliens say "Darmok and Jilad at Tenagra" in trying to establish communication, well, unless we know who or what Darmok, Jilad and Tenagra is, we haven't a clue as to what they are saying.  Both the Enterprise crew and the alien crew are frustrated at their inability to communicate with each other.

So, the aliens' captain, Dathon, transports himself and Picard down to a planet and makes it so they can't leave.  They must learn to communicate with each other in order to survive a dangerous creature native to the planet that is trying to kill them.  

However, I just came to the realization of what an insensitive person Captain Dathon is, at least from the mindset of a person interested in the welfare of animals and not causing them grief. Lemme 'splain.

We can assume that Dathon knew there was a dangerous animal on El-Adral IV.  I don't think he would kidnap Picard and send them both down to a planet where they would have weeks to learn how to live together before they would succumb to starvation.   No, Dathon needed a deadly threat and he needed one right now, that would affect Picard and Dathon shortly after they transported to the surface.

Let's look at this from the point of view of the animal they face on El-Adral IV

Imagine, on earth, you are a grizzly bear, perhaps a sow with a couple of cubs.  You are minding your own business in the Montana wilderness, hundreds of miles away from people and civilization.  All of a sudden, two people with weapons show up in your territory.  The bear doesn't know who these people are, or what their intentions are. Her instinct is to protect her cubs and herself from harm. So, she watches.  The two intruders don't leave her territory, but instead set up a campsite.  At this point, and throughout the episode, we’re given no indication that the animal Picard and Dathon face is any different from something like a grizzly bear, with similar instincts.  It’s not evil or sadistic, or wishes to do them harm, like Armus from the episode “Skin of Evil”.  It’s just an animal that is native to El-Adral IV.

Keep in mind that there isn’t any interaction between Dathon/Picard and the animal on El-Adrel IV until the next morning, when Picard found Dathon gone.  Dathon returns a few minutes later, breathless, urging Picard to help him defend themselves against this animal.  What did he do during this time?  Did he go seek out the animal, who was content to watch them and leave them alone?  Did Dathon attack the animal first, or taunt it?  Keep in mind that Dathon’s plan was for himself and Picard to have to work together to protect themselves from this animal.  His plan wasn’t going to work until the animal became threatening to them, and the animal wasn’t a threat until Dathon apparently went to find and perhaps confront it. 

Let's throw in the variable that Captain Dathon's ship put up some kind of "invisible fence" to keep the animal from leaving.  After all, that was what Dathon's plan was all along - to have him and Picard face a deadly threat to force them to understand each other and work together.  If the animal could simply take her cubs and hightail it out of there, then Dathon's plan wouldn't work.  So, not only do we have the possibility that the animal is worried about her safety and the safety of her cubs, but now when she tries to leave, she can't. That would make her even more desperate to protect herself and her cubs.

I realize that is farfetched, to think maybe that the El-Adrel IV creature was a mother protecting her offspring, but even if it wasn't, it still was an animal, minding its own business, when all of a sudden it is faced with two strange, dangerous creatures who just might be trying to kill it.  It also doesn’t attack them until it is sought out and possibly confronted by Dathon.

The premise of the episode is wonderful - to have a common obstacle which forces two people who can't communicate into doing so.  I'm just concerned that they did this at the expense of a clueless, otherwise nonthreatening animal who is minding its own business, who only becomes dangerous when its territory, safety, and perhaps the safety of its offspring is threatened.

Brief Sounds

Some years ago, in the magazine Rolling Stone, I read a review of Bob Dylan’s album Blood on the Tracks.  In it, the writer spoke of the song “Tangled Up in Blue” and said that it “borders on the metaphysical of how lost love haunts lives”.

That statement, powerful in its truth and simplicity, sums up the gift that music has given humankind for thousands of years: its ability to elicit an emotional response. 

I’ve listened to music all of my life, and been moved emotionally by many songs and music pieces.  Never has one compelled me to sit down and write about it as this one has.  It is a song called “Brief Sounds”, written and performed by the Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter Kris Angelis. 

“Brief Sounds” perfectly captures the angst and heartbreak of a relationship.  Ms. Angelis’ lyrics are powerfully emotional and moving in its storytelling.  To borrow the line from the Rolling Stone review, this song borders on, and perhaps dwells in, the metaphysical in telling its story.  It is, simply put, a beautiful song.

From the very first line, you, the listener, are made a part of and feel the emotion of the storyteller:

“I felt so high, but I was shy

then you turned dry

and I wet my life

with tears I cried

you always liked drama.”

In this song, the storyteller is deeply, madly, and passionately in love with someone, but the other person doesn’t totally return that love, neither was the other person honest.  The other person didn’t want to commit their heart to the relationship, or saw it as a relationship of convenience, or used the relationship with the storyteller as a means to attract someone else.  The storyteller comes to realize this, and shares her pain with us through the music and words.

The most emotional lines in the song, ones that resonate with me and with anyone who loved someone in the way the storyteller does, are these lines - told by the storyteller at a point when she realizes that it isn’t going to work, but she still has feelings for the other person.

“I looked all around for you,

so I could pretend

that I didn’t care

that you were there.

Your lies were made of fear

and my hope was made of pain

gotta wipe away the memories

so I can say I’m sane.

I believed you thought that you were real

but it’s not something you can feel.”

She goes on:

“Well, I never felt your lips

would love me

let me give you a tip

there’s no manuscript

for relationships

you danced with me

and then ran the other way.

All you said we had to say

was nothing

but that’s okay

you’re not a disappointment

if nothing was expected.

Then you finally opened up

and lied to me and dealt with it

so clumsily

if you weren’t you, would you be?”

Then there’s this line, a perfect metaphor for dishonesty:

“I looked at your eyes

hadn’t seen them yet

and I realized they

can’t decide what color they are.”

“Brief Sounds” is a song is that is so powerful, and so perfect in its story of human feelings.  

Ms. Angelis is a masterful singer/songwriter, and much of her other music shares the same passion and emotion.  It’s just that “Brief Sounds” has captured a special place in my heart. 

“Brief Sounds” is here on iTunes and it is worth far more than the 99 cents to buy it.  

You can find all of her music on iTunes or at.krisangelis.com.

The desert and the sky

I've spoken about my trip to Las Vegas at the Star Trek convention there.  By far, my favorite part of the trip was not the actual convention, but in the two days after.  I've lived in Louisiana all of my life, and been fortunate to take trips out west, where there is none of the swamps, marshes and bayous that are here in south Louisiana.  Out west are the most beauiful places, the mountains and the wide open desert.  The desert, the endless and lonely expanse, is such a beautful place.  So, when I was in Las Vegas, I knew I had to drive out and see the Nevada desert.  The last full day I was there, Tuesday, I drove in a wide loop, hundreds of miles, around Nellis Air Force Base and and the infamous "Area 51".  It was such a beautiful drive and the desert was magnificent.  I've lived all of my life in the cities, with hundreds of thousands of people, their automobiles, the traffic and noise.  It was a religious experience, to go to such a desolate and lonely place.  I'd park the car, get out, and just marvel at the desert and the sky.

The night sky is something that is a bit of a letdown, here in Louisiana.  Even in Plaquemine, which is fifteen miles away from Baton Rouge, the light pollution is so bad that even on the clearest nights, only a few stars are visible.  On my drive, I took a side trip down the road that goes to Death Valley.
By then it was ten or eleven o'clock at night.  About ten miles or so down the road, I stopped the car, turned off the lights and looked at the night sky.  The stars were out by the thousands, so may such that I couldn't find the regular constellations.  I hadn't seen the Milky Way in many years, and there it was, meandering across the night sky.

Among the hardest things I've had to do was to leave Nevada and come back to this place.  Soon, very soon, I will be able to leave Louisiana permanently and go live someplace where the earth sweeps to the horizon and the sky is alive with the stars and planets.

It was nice, but . . .

I've come back from the Star Trek convention in Las Vegas.  The big one.  Thousands of fans were there, and almost a hundred Star Trek actors and other people that worked on the show or wrote books. It was something I've always wanted to do, and finally had the chance.  I went as a TNG-era Klingon for two days and a TOS-era Klingon for the other two.  It was a surreal experience, meeting all of the people that have been a part of my Trek experience for many years.  Some, like Jonathan Frakes, Michael Dorn, Dominic Keating and Connor Trineer, I've wanted to meet for many years and finally did.  Others, like Kate Mulgrew, Marc Alaimo, Andrew Robinson and Jeri Ryan, don't go to many conventions, if at all, so meeting them was even more of an extraordinary experience.  I can say, that to a person, all of the Trek actors were wonderful to talk to and seemed to appreciate the opportunity to meet their fans.

Ah, the fans.  To say that my uniform, which I thought was pretty good, was merely adequate at this convention, would be an understatement.   There were so many people who looked like they just stepped off of a set of a Trek television episode or movie.  They must have spent hundreds of hours working on their costume and were rightly recognized for it.

That being said, next year is the 50th anniversary of Star Trek, and the convention is going to be the biggest and best Trek convention there every was. I won't be going.  I had a great time at the convention, but the crowds, the pace, and the atmosphere were so overwhelming.  It just isn't as fun as going to the smaller conventions.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm glad I went and would have kicked myself had I never gone to the Vegas Trek convention in my lifetime.  It's just not for me.

Empty

For almost 20 years, I would go over to Michelle's house.  I would climb the steps to the porch, greet Sammie and Pankie in one cage, William in the other, and open the door to the middle room to say hello to Mazie.  If it was the morning, I'd hook up Agatha, say hello to Tinker and Colette (if she was around) and go upstairs.  I'd say hello to Miss Emily and Lucy and if it was before Michelle was sick, I would wake her up and take Sailor out for a walk.  After Michelle was sick, I'd let her sleep while I walked Sailor and did the morning stuff.  I'd look around, in each room, at all of the familiar furniture and things.

Now, her house is empty.  The executors and their crews have cleaned out all of the rooms.  I don't know what they did with the books and other things that can be salvaged. It wasn't something I could handle, so I let them dispose of it as they wished. Most of the stuff was thrown away, I think.  I kept many things that were sentimental.  Candles, some clothing, some dishes, photographs, the vase and flowers of the last dozen roses I brought her, maybe some other things. Everything else is gone.  It looks like they are replacing the electrical outlets, and the workers went into the attic.  I haven't any idea what was up there, and I don't think Michelle knew, either.  They probably won't tell me and I won't ask.  

As I walked through the empty rooms in her empty house, I realized that the sadness probably won't ever go away.  It might shrink until it occupies some tiny lobe in the memory cortex of my brain, but I'll see something or hear something and then the memories will come back.  What will happen to her house?  Again, I probably won't ask and they probably won't tell me.  It was best, to let them handle it.  Just to have those memories, those times we spent together, is a nice thing.

William

This is William.  All of our cats are special, aren't they, but he has a wonderful story behind him. 

About five years ago, he showed up in my friend Michell’s yard as a teenage kitten. He was a friendly kitten and, as soon as he was old enough, we got him neutered. One day, a few months after that, we saw that he was lethargic and his tail was dragging the ground.  We took him to the vet immediately, who told us that he had been attacked or was in an accident.  Somehow, he sustained an injury to his backside that made it where he couldn’t go to the bathroom by himself anymore. The vet showed us how to make him go - the veterinary term is "express" him.  So, for five years, twice a day, we “tag-teamed” and helped him do his business. 

Last fall, Michell passed away.  The vet gave me tips on expressing him myself, which I learned to do.  After Michell passed way, I and her friends found good homes for Michell's other cats, except for William.  William would be difficult to place, and I let the others know that I could find room for him at my house if things didn't work out.  

My friend, Jim, did finally find a home for William, but after a few in-home visits, Jim thought that it would be best for William to live with me. Although I already had four cats, I was happy to see have him come live with me, and I think he was, too.  

Anyone who knows cats knows that, for most cats, the belly is a "hands-off"place. This would seem to be even more so, for the person that has to not only touch the belly but also squeeze it.  From the beginning, and even while I've had to do it myself, William has been nothing but a wonderful cat about the whole thing. For all that  I have to put him through, he is such a cheerful, wonderful, loving cat. His favorite thing is for me to lie down and he gets on my chest and usually curls up to go to sleep.  Pets bring so much into our lives, and every second I spend with this wonderful cat, this endlessly cheerful and loving cat, makes my life that much better. 

Ak'voh

I am a huge Star Trek fan.  There are moments and scenes in all five of the live television shows in the series that are incredibly emotional.  This is one of them, and its relation to an event in my life. This scene is from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode "The Ship".  In this episode, there is a conflict between a character, Miles O'Brien and Worf, a Klingon.  On an away mission, O'Brien's friend, Muniz, was injured and slowly bleeding to death.  Worf tells O'Brien that Muniz will not recover and should prepare for death. O'Brien vehemently disagrees, saying that Muniz should keep fighting. Muniz eventually dies.  The away team is recovered, along with Muniz's body.  In the last scene of the show, O'Brien is sitting in the cargo bay, with Munoz's casket, telling him stories. Worf enters.

WORF: I did not mean to interrupt.

O'BRIEN:  It's all right.

WORF:    You are performing Ak'voh... for your friend.

O'BRIEN:  I am?

WORF: (nodding)  An old Klingon tradition. When a warrior dies in battle, his comrades stay with the body to keep away predators. That allows the spirit to leave the body when it is ready for the long journey to Sto'Vo'Kor.

O'BRIEN:  A fine tradition.

Worf nods and takes a seat next to O'Brien.

O'BRIEN:  What are you doing?

WORF:   We shall both keep the predators away.

My father passed away in the hospital.  After he died, they removed all of the tubes and breathing apparatus and left him to lie peacefully on the bed.  My mother, brother and I gathered around him, waiting to see what happened next.  Would they take him to the morgue?  Would the funeral home come to pick him up?  I'd like to think we were performing ak'voh.  We kept him safe  until his spirit left his body and made the long journey to his equivalent of Sto'Vo'Kor, where I know it arrived safely and he will live forever.  I know I will see him again, someday.

(from "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine", episode "The Ship", teleplay by Hans Beimler, story by Pam Wigginton and Rick Cason)

The Smoking Girl

Steve noticed the pretty young girl walking with Beth, the H.R. chief.  He saw her again the next morning, as he walked to the front door from his car.  She was outside, dutifully observing the thirty-foot buffer zone, smoking a cigarette.  Almost every day after, Steve would see The Smoking Girl outside.  He’d smile and nod, and she’d smile back.  When he didn’t see her on days it was raining or cold, he thought about making an excuse to go to the underground parking garage, which was the other designated smoking area.  “Nah,” he said to himself.  “too stalky.”

 

One day, he finally talked to her.  They caught an elevator together on the first floor.  Just as he started to speak, it hit him – the unmistakable stench of a heavy cigarette smoker, thick and vile.  Steve willed his body with all his might to not cough.  Thankfully, she exited the car on the second floor.  The Smoking Girl was gone, along with the heavy smell, although the remnants remained in the car for his trip up the next two floors. 

Steve felt a wave of sadness and resignation.  The Smoking Girl was so pretty, but with that baggage, he couldn’t see talking to her at all. 

Later that week, everybody at work was on edge.  Steve’s nerves jangled constantly, like that feeling right before a car crash.  He saw Jacob in the lunchroom.

“What’s going on?”  Steve asked, “Everyone seems weirded out.”

Jacob didn’t reply.  Instead he looked out of the large picture windows past the tables.  There was a light rain, and the sky, which was a dull slate gray earlier, had changed to a pasty green color.  The clouds seemed to pulse as the green color changed shades.

“I’m leaving.”  Jacob said.  “I’m calling my wife and going home.  You should too.”  With that, he left. 

Steve started back to his office to get his things.  Once on his floor, he called out, “Hello?  Anyone here?”  No response. 

A wave of fear washed over him, adding to his already jangled nerves.  Instead of going to his office, he pushed the door open to the stairs and ran as fast as he could down to the bottom sub-basement stairwell that led to the parking garage.  He threw himself in the corner and curled into a ball, with the concrete stairs between him and the big heavy door. 

The crack that followed was so loud and violent it split the sky.  The heavy steel door was blown inward and smashed the concrete stairs to rubble.  A gust of hot air pinned Steve against the wall as he closed his eyes and curled tighter.  The earth and sky roared.

Then, a second later, it was quiet.  Steve opened his eyes.  The building was no longer above him.  He was in a giant pit, filled with broken concrete and twisted pieces of metal.  Listening, he heard nothing.  The sky had changed back to a normal slate gray, and he even saw some pockets of blue poking through.  He stood up and carefully picked his way through the rubble.  Cresting the rim of the pit, he saw only devastation.  He looked for people, for bodies, for anything. 

Evidence of human civilization had been erased.  Steve could see to the horizon in all directions.  All that remained was rubble, smoke and ashes.  Steve collapsed and held his head in his hands, trying to comprehend it all.  He sat at the edge of the pit, his body and mind shutting down. 

After what seemed like hours, Steve stood up and picked his way along the edge, heading for what he thought was once the parking lot.  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash.  It was the color green.  It was stark in its noticeability, since his world no longer included trees or grass.  “There’s a plant that survived this?”  He thought, as he gingerly moved to see what it was.  The green was a sleeve!  A sleeve that was moving!  Someone else is alive!  As he got closer, Steve saw the prone figure, moving in the rubble.

It was The Smoking Girl.  Hoping to not break an ankle, Steve moved as fast as he could to her.  She was slowly trying to get up.  The Smoking Girl was dirty and grimy, but at that moment, was the most beautiful sight in the word.  She turned to see him standing there, and her eyes, coated in dust, widened in awe and wonder that, by a miracle, another human had survived.

“Are you okay?  Can you stand up?”  He asked.

She nodded slowly.  He put his arm around her and helped her stand.

“Steve.”  He said.  “My name is Steve.”

“I’m Caroline.”

They stood for a moment, and then hugged tightly.  This was the hug of humanity, a species that survived for four million years of cataclysms, a species that survived a little bit longer.  That was when it hit him.  The thick, acrid smell of cigarette smoke on her breath entered his nose, invaded his lungs.  Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind.  

One of the most awesome things this century happens in 2017. . . well, at least until 2024.

One of the most awesome things this century happens in 2017. . . well, at least until 2024.

On August 21, 2017, a total solar eclipse will bisect the United States from Oregon to South Carolina.  The last total solar eclipse to occur on the United States mainland was in 1979.  So, this is going be a natural event of monumental proportions.  According to this eclipse website, the last total solar eclipse was not a good one to observe because of the weather.  I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this won’t be a problem here.  Because the path of totality is going across the freakin’ country, you should have time to go to a place where observation is perfect. 

I have never seen a total eclipse before, and, before I knew about this one, a dream of mine was to go on one of these “eclipse cruises” that sails to wherever there is an eclipse.  I remember back in high school there was a partial eclipse, maybe in Mexico, and it darkened quite a bit.  However, from what I've read and heard from firsthand observers, there is nothing like seeing the real thing, live and in color.

Here is a 2017 eclipse website that is pretty good and thorough.  I realize it is three years and nine months away, but still, I can’t help but be stoked.

Oh, about the title of this post?  Well, in 2024, the United States gets ANOTHER total solar eclipse, also bisecting the country, this time from Texas to Maine.  We’ve quite hit the eclipse lottery the next few years.  

Paris. Rain. Night.

"It's a rainy night in Paris, and I'm sitting by the Seine. It's a pleasure to be soaking the European rain . . ."

Billy Joel "Somewhere Along the Line"

The poignancy of that song was not lost on David as he sat, in the rain, on a park bench by the Seine river. In reality it was more of a light mist, and the evening was cool enough to wear a raincoat. The girl, Emily, with whom he had corresponded by computer on Skype for the better part of three months was supposed to meet him there. It was either divine inspiration or sheer idiocy that he suggested this meeting place. Although David lived in Colorado, and Emily lived in Washington, his theory was this: that any girl who would fly across the ocean to meet him must sort of be interested. If she didn't show up, well, he had a EurailPass and an open ended return flight and could see the countries he had not seen for several years.

(Sixteen days ago)

DancingCloud: I think it's time we meet - as people and not pixels and random 1s and 0s?
David_47: Deal. Where and when?
DancingCloud: You pick.
David_47: Ooh. Hard. Too much pressure. I can have until tomorrow?
DancingCloud: OK. Same time?
David_47: OK.
DancingCloud: Love you, David.
David_47: Love you, Emily.

(Fifteen days ago)

David_47: Friday, May 27th. Paris, France. By the Seine River at the intersection of Henry IV and Rue Schomburg. 6:00 P.M. Paris time.
(after a a pause of a minute or so)
DancingCloud: OK. Let's not talk any more until then?
David_47: OK. Love you.
DancingCloud: Love you.

And so that's how it went down. That's why he was here, in Paris, at the intersection of Henry IV and Rue Schomburg, at 5:52 P.M. this 27th day of May. The residents of the City of Light passed his bench, walking quickly to get home and a nice glass of wine.

A few glanced his way, probably wondering why he was sitting there. One passer-by saw David, and being a romantic at heart, saw him as waiting for his girlfriend or wife. The passer-by thought to himself, "She would walk up, they would hug and kiss, and walk together, hand-in-hand back to their apartment, their happiness at being together erasing the rain."

He was waiting for Emily, his girlfriend. It started by exchanging comments, then progressed to emails, messages and Skype. Over long conversations, almost daily, they shared secrets and fears and laughter.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, his heart sunk when he checked his watch. It was 6:12. No messages, no phone calls. "Do I have my answer?" he thought. Almost an hour later, no messages, no phone calls, no Emily.

Reluctlantly, he looked at the Metro map in his pocket to see where the station closest to his hotel was. He got up, shoulders slouched as he shuffled to the stairs going down to the Metro station. "No." he thought. "I'm not going out that way." He stood up straight, looked around and smiled at the beautiful city he was in the midst of. Every moment, no matter what happens, is a new adventure. Ticket bought, the train pulled in and he sat down. Curious to see what news app he could get on his phone, he cued up the screen. Looking up at him was a text message. It said, "look behind you."

New Orleans Comic-Con 2012

Oh, besides William Shatner (see previous entry), there was other stuff going on at the 2012 New Orleans Comic-Con. New Orleans did another great job. Besides William Shatner, the guests of interest were James Marsters, Adam Baldwin and Michael Biehn. I armored up early Saturday and left.

The ticket lines were incredibly long, but moved quickly. Several people took pictures of what is undoubtedly a rare sight - a Klingon waiting in line. Sometimes it is difficult to adhere to Terran courtesy and customs, but in the interest of interspecies detente, I complied.

The large hall was filled with Ferengi merchants selling their wares, and many comic book artists displaying samples of their excellent work. Besides my picture with William Shatner, I took pictures with James Marsters, Adam Baldwin and Michael Biehn. James Marsters was his usual telegenic self, chatting briefly with the folks getting pictures. We both have an affinity for the blues, so we talked about that for a second. Adam Baldwin was also very personable. He is conservative politically, and he and Robert Duncan McNeill (Tom Paris from Star Trek-Voyager), who is liberal politically, engage in animated, but very interesting discussions on twitter. I mentioned to Adam about this and he laughed heartily and said "He never answers my questions!" He was also very personable.

After the photographs, I wandered around and talked at length with my friends from the Star Wars 501st, as well as other Trekkies, all feddies, in uniform. Many of the folks attending wanted a picture, and I was happy to oblige. My friend Ri'par came as a TOS Klingon, and he was very, very impressive. I must make that uniform my next project. Other than Ri'par, there were no other Klingons, which was unfortunate.

That evening, I was "volunteered" for the costume contest. I was not eager to take part, the reason being somewhat vain. Although I had made tweaks to my uniform that I think made it look better, I used a new headpiece which was a smidgen too large. Consequently, it kept slipping back on my head. I also go the color off by a bit. I was far from my best-looking Klingon. Nevertheless, I entered. My friend Andrew was one of the judges, and remembering last year when I sang the Klingon War Song, he prompted the emcee, as he was introducing me, to say "I feel a song coming on". This year, I serenaded them with the Klingon Drinking Song. If I go next year, I'll have to learn the song that Worf and Martok sang in "You are Cordially Invited" for the kal'Haya. Also, there has to be some arias from Klingon opera I can learn, too. All of the constumes were awesome. I appreciate the time and effort these folks spend on such a fun endeavour. I was one of the "honorable mentions" despite my drawbacks, for which I was most appreciative.

The next day, I also appeared in Klingon uniform. Last year, I missed the Q&A for James Marsters, but didn't want to miss this one. I got to ask the last question, which was kind of funny, beacuse the guy running the show said "I think I better give the last question to the Klingon". So, I mentioned to James that I enjoyed his SyFy Original movie he did, a western called "High Plains Invaders", and asked him how he liked doing a western and if he wanted to do more. He said he loved it and would love to do more. He told a funny story about how the set, which was used quite a lot for westerns, had tons of nails sticking out of the wood sets. He said he tried in vain to get someone to fix that, because with all of the fighting and falling, an actor was sure to get impaled by a rogue nails. After nothing being done, James said he got a hammer and started fixing the problem himself. At that point, some of the crew finally helped. I got Adam Baldwin to sign the picture I took with him. I would have liked for James Marsters to sign his as well, but he was running late and it was time to take the shuttle back to the homeworld. All in all, it was an awesome con, and I look forward to next time. Qa'pla!

On Meeting Captain James Tiberius Kirk - or how I stopped worrying and learned to be eleven years old again.

I can now die a happier man. On Saturday, January 28th, at approximately 12:50 p.m., I met Mr. William Shatner. To fully understand the importance of this event to your faithful writer, we need to go back in time to when I was eleven years old. I discovered Star Trek during its afternoon syndication after school. My friend Mitch Markow and I were fans from the very first minute we saw Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise. So much were we bitten by the Trekkie bug that we made wall intercoms, and communicators out of construction paper and picked out our most futuristic water pistols to serve as phasers. After the show, we tried to recreate the episode we just saw. My first choice as a character back then, (silly me) was Mr. Spock. Mitch, however, was a little faster on the “call-it” rule and he called Mr. Spock before I did. That left me, by default to be Captain Kirk. Thus began my love affair with William Shatner.

Very quickly I realized that James T. Kirk was the man. I loved how he dealt with the people and aliens he met, both friend and foe. My eleven-year-old self even realized his way with the ladies, although I could not fully appreciate the babe magnet Captain Kirk was. I copied Captain Kirk’s mannerisms, his speech, and I even tried to tell my barber how to cut my hair like Captain Kirk. Looking back how, I realize what a mistake it was that I did not fully embrace my new character. Had I lived the part in the years after, my way with the Junior High and High School girls would have made me the stuff of legend. Unfortunately, it did not turn out that way. My excuse was that any pretty girl was probably not a Trekkie and would not appreciate my smoothness as James T. Kirk. Well, that, and the fact that talking to a girl socially was about as easy for me as rebuilding a carburetor blindfolded.

However, my ineptness with girls did not diminish my fanboy admiration for William Shatner. Once, while visiting relatives in Texas, I told an aunt of mine of my love for William Shatner. She had me almost in tears when she said “Oh, he’s old and fat now and I saw him on television doing margarine commercials.” Hah, lady, the joke’s on you as only a year or two later, Star Trek: The Motion Picture was released and Captain Kirk re-emerged as a heroic captain of space exploration to a whole new fanbase.

In the years after, as Trek movies came and went, and realizing that Captain Kirk was now well past the age to draw Social Security, I wondered if I was ever going to meet him at a convention. Like a bag of money falling into my lap from the sky, New Orleans Comic Con 2012 came through.

Which brings us now to the present. A lifelong dream of mine was fulfilled when I met William Shatner. Well, “met”, while technically true, is not entirely honest. More truthfully, I was in his presence for around fifteen seconds. The line to get a William Shatner picture was long, but moved quickly. As I approached the front, I felt my knees noticeably shaking. Wow. I just hope I didn’t collapse and fall or something like that. Just as quickly, I was near the front and could see Captain Kirk himself in the photo area, smiling as he took picture after picture. A random thought went through my head. How many pictures has he taken with his fans? I’d probably say the number is in the tens of thousands. Still, watching, him he gave each person a genuine smile, as if the picture were for that person and that person alone. And, just as quickly, it was my turn. I walked up to my idol, the man I’d wanted to meet ever since I was eleven years old. As I paused by him preparing for the picture, I managed to speak a coherent sentence, which was something like “Mr. Shatner, it’s a great honor to meet you.” More importantly, however, he spoke to me. I was in my Klingon uniform, and he looked at me as I walked up to him and said, “Nice job.” A thirteen year old girl who just had Justin Bieber show up at her birthday party could not have swooned more than I did. I did swoon. However, I kept it all inside, as a true Klingon warrior would. I paused, in his presence, standing inches from him as the photographer took our picture. Just as quickly, it was over. Thank you, Mr. Shatner, for bringing a world of happiness to this eleven year old boy.

Mountains

I'm sitting at my desk, almost quitting time, looking out of the window at the cold rain. On my wall is a "mountain" calender with photographs of various mountains. It reminds me of the first time I saw a real mountain.

It was in 1978. We were driving to Idaho to visit my brother. Up until then, the only mountains I had seen were the Arkansas foothills and another small hill in Santa Anna, Texas called "Santa Anna Mountain". I doubt seriously if I had seen anything over a thousand feet high. Where I grew up, Louisiana, was as flat as could be. The highest point was only a little over five hundred feet high. I read internet sites that help guide people who want to reach the highest point in all fifty states. For Louisiana's entry, there isn't ever really a high point. The site just says walk around a bit at these GPS coordinates and you've probably laid foot on the highest point in Louisiana.

Anyway, on the way to Idaho, we crossed Texas and spent the night near the Texas - New Mexico border. The next day, we crossed the "corner" of New Mexico on our way to Colorado. Besides mountains, another earth feature that I find incredibly beautiful is the desert. The sight of vast earth and sky with no trees or buildings blocking the incredible vastness of our world is an awesome and wonderful sight. I just watched out of the window at the desert and sky. As we approached the Colorado border, I saw a feature interrupting the desert and sky. It was a mountain peak, rising out of the desert. Even though we were dozens of miles away, I could see it was incredibly huge, with the snowcapped top that I'd only seen in pictures. It sort of reminded me of the time that, at my summer job one night, somebody brought a telescope and trained it on Saturn. He invited me to take a look and what I saw was like every picture of Saturn I'd seen in science magazines - the beautiful ringed gas giant. There's something about seeing something in a book or magazine or on television then seeing it in person. It's like the fact that mountains or Saturn actually exists could be a lie or some massive deception, but seeing it with your own eyes, well, you realize that it is real. I looked at our map and learned that the mountain was Cuelebra Peak. As we drove, we passed it by, and soon entered Colorado with its dozens, if not hundreds of high mountains lived.

I've been to Idaho many times since, and always loved the mountains. If I am fortunate enough to retire, I will go to live in the mountains. It's possible they'll lose their awe and wonder, living in them every day - sort of like how New Yorkers never notice the Statue of Liberty. Somehow, I doubt it. Even, so the first mountain I ever saw will always have a special place in my heart.

It's Geek Time!

Time for another installment in the life of a geek. This is a late report on BayouCon '11, the science fiction convention in Lake Charles, Louisiana. The best thing about these conventions is not only seeing old friends, but making new ones. My Klingon friend, Shane (Ri'par) was there and he introduced me to some of his friends in the 501st, which is the Star Wars costuming group. I'm not sure if there is a more instant bonding among those of us who are into science fiction/Star Trek/Star Wars. Awesome folks! Now, to the meat of the convention. This was a good one for us Trek folks. Vaughn Armstrong, who played Admiral Forrest in Enterprise, as well as many other characters, including the first Klingon on Next Generation, and Max Grodenchik, who played Rom in Deep Space Nine were there, as well as a voice-over/video game actor, Dino Andrade.

We also met again Larry Nemecek who is a Star Trek authority and author who is also very funny and cool to spend time with. Here he is with me and Shane:

We spent time Friday night with Larry and some of the other con folks. I also got to meet Chris and Charity Wood, who run one of my favorite Trek websites, Subspace Communique. They are also such super folks and I am so glad to meet and spend time with them.

The first night, we were invited to dinner with Dino and Vaughn, which was awesome. They were such nice folks and we talked for hours and had a great meal. Shane mentioned to Vaughn that he had bloodwine, and he was only too eager to join us in a drink. The drink turned into several more hours in the parking lot, and several glasses of bloodwine. We talked about many things and it was so awesome to hear so many stories and tell so many stories to someone I consider as much of a celebrity as Brad Pitt. It was a great night.

The next day Shane and I went as Klingons and had a great time, talking to Max, who was equally as awesome as well, and meeting other friends and having our picture taken. Dino is also a great and funny guy. That's another great thing about science fiction conventions - meeting great people that I'd never really heard of. Dino is pretty in demand as the video game/animation voice actors go, but I'd never heard of him. Now I see why. He's funny and personable and BayouCon was fortunate to have him.

That evening, Max and Vaughn did a nightclub-type show - songs Max and Vaughn had written, which were really good and both were great entertainers. They do a full Rat Pack type show with Casey Biggs, Arman Shimmerman and Jeff Combs. That's a have-to see.

The next day was slow, as I had to get back to Baton Rouge. All in all it was a super con and I look forward to going next year.

In the country

When May comes, one of the things I really look forward to is going to see my Mother's family in central Arkansas, twenty miles from anywhere. A consequence of getting older, I guess, is that what used to be a dreaded experience, the family reunion, is now something that I love. It happened after many years of not going to the reunions. One year, maybe because our Mother is getting older, my brother and I decided to go with Mother to the reunion. The relatives are, for the most part, the same, and I guess I am, too. The closest I can come to what it feels like is lifting a burden off my shoulders. The burden, in this case, is one of an ungrateful child who didn't appreciate the simply joys of being with aunts, uncles and cousins I've known for many ears. Seeing them and telling them in so many words, how much I cherish this time together and please forgive me for being such a ungrateful child is something I needed to do. This was something I didn't tell my aunts, uncles and cousins outright, but I would like to think that this was something unspoken among us, something to be said, understood, and forgotten. How pointless it is to dwell on things I did in the past that, in this case, I had a chance to make right. The effect of this is, for me, the years and years of good memories that came flooding back. The days exploring the thickets and forests, relishing the clean air and experiences of being a child again. We talk, eat and drink and remember those times, tell stories and wish the weekend would never end. The first thing I did when I got back to work was to mark off the week around Memorial Day 2012, the simply joy of looking forward to this again.

New Orleans Comic-Con

I am an unapologetic geek. I love all things geekish and nerdy. Comic-Con is the mecca for us geeks, so, when it came to New Orleans, attendance was mandatory. It didn't hurt that the media guests were pretty impressive: Louis Gossett, Jr., Adam West and Burt Ward from Batman, Ernie Hudson from Ghostbusters, Nick Brendon, Kelly Donovan, Clare Kramer, James Marsters, Julie Benz and James Leary from Buffy, and, the one I was most looking forward to meeting, Walter Koenig from the original Star Trek.

Even though there wasn't a lot of Trek subject matter here, I went in uniform. I made a new headpiece, which I think turned out pretty good. Here's a picture:



Big crowd there, in the hundreds if not thousands. Lots of comic book artists and science fiction themed vendor booths. One could spend lots o' money for a lot of neat stuff. Also lots of folks in costume, with everything from Japanese anime to Star Wars characters. I think the attendees got a kick out of seeing a Klingon, too. I must have posed for at least a hundred pictures. Here's one of them, me with the eleventh Doctor from Doctor Who:

All of the celebrities I met were super nice. I had a cool chat with James Marsters about New Orleans music and how unique the city is.

There was a costume contest that evening with many great and original costumes. When I was called to the front, one of the judges asked me if I knew any Klingon poetry. I told her I knew Klingon songs, so, she asked me to sing. I sang the Klingon Battle Song in Klingon, which was enjoyed by the judges and others attending. I didn't win anything, but it was a blast.

I have to give props to the folks that ran the convention. It was very well run and I heard no complaints. I'm sure they will be back next year and I'm sure I will be.

I am a Soldier

Although it might be fun to memorialize certain stories from my time in the service, that isn't what this is. This is my philosophy where it regards my job. I learned a long, long time ago that getting to "the top" just wasn't in the cards here. I didn't know the right people, neither would I kiss the appropriate ass necessary to get to "the top". I did my job, did it pretty darn good, and kept my nose clean.

A funny thing, though. I've seen lots of folks come and go here. Most of 'em, I don't know where they went to, and don't really care. What I saw in these folks was the drive that I had years ago, the notion that they could make it to "the top". When they saw that, alas, that wasn't in the cards for them, they left. Maybe they went somewhere that their drive and determination could pay off. Good for them. I hope they found what they were looking for. Me, I'm just happy being a soldier.

What brought all of this on? Well, you see, there became open a promotion to mid-management. In a perfect world, that would be just in my wheelhouse. In the real world, that position was decided long ago, to be filled by the husband/wife/son/daughter of Mr./Mrs.________. The folks who actually run the shop are keenly aware that Mr./Mrs.________ would be most pleased that their husband/wife/son/daughter got the position and Mr./Mrs. __________ would continue to bless the company. And, as Walter Cronkite said, "that's the way it is".

Where the fun comes in is that we have three young idealists who all have that dream - that this is the job that is most certainly theirs. Why, nobody has worked as hard as me! This is my reward! Now where's the phone book. I've got to look up "BMW". Then, as is already pre-ordained, the day came when none of the three got the job. Husband/wife/son/daughter is almost finished moving in to their new office. I hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth. I sympathize and cluck with them at the unfairness of it all. Three months from now, all three of the dreamers will be gone. I'll be digging my foxhole.

Scout's Honor

So, the History Channel has this show on called "Apocalypse Man". It's a former Marine giving survival tips for us puny humans if/when the apocalypse hits. I found it to be somewhat cheesy but interesting. I learned a few things that I did know or hadn't thought of before.

But, it got me to thinking. If a ever find myself in some post-apocalyptic scenario, I am certain that I will be able to hold my own, because of one chapter in my life: Boy Scouts. Don't laugh. I was in scouts for about eight years. At that time, I didn't know or didn't give a fuck about gay scoutmasters or gay scouts. All I know is I had some cool-as-shit adults that supervised us and cool-as-shit friends that were scouts with me. I learned three things in scouts that may be the three most important things to survive in a post-apocalyptic environment: 1) First Aid, 2) Knot Tying and 3) How to live off the land.

Now that I think about it, our scout leaders may have been one of these survivalist types, but I don't remember any batshit preaching or the like. All I know is that we went out in the woods, deep in the woods, rain or shine, summer or winter, one weekend a month like clockwork. If it was during school, we'd go Friday afternoon to Sunday night. If we weren't in school, sometimes we went for a week. The adults that went with us were unbelievably patient with us teenagers. They spent hours teaching us, showing us these skills, some of which aren't real easy to learn or remember. We learned how to build a shelter, and actually built them, no matter where we were (OK, we didn't build snow shelters, being in Louisiana, but we sure learned how to build them). We learned how to start and build a fire, using several non-match methods. We learned how to build animal snares and traps and, more importantly how to build human snares and traps. We used ropes and learned how to tie knots, used the aforementioned ropes and knots to climb trees and cross rivers. We learned how to navigate with and without a compass, how to find water and make sure that the water we drink won't make us sick. We learned what to do if we were injured, or snakebit, encountered a bear or other large predator, or got too cold or too hot.

What amazes me most of all is I retained almost all of this knowledge. Maybe it is something hardwired into the survival gene of humans, I don't know, but for whatever reason, I am grateful. The likelihood that I'll ever have to use all of these skills to survive in a "Red Dawn" type of scenario before I shuffle off this mortal coil? Real slim. But, it's nice to know it's there in my head.