Fifty years ago today, “Star Trek” debuted on NBC.
I wasn’t watching it. I don’t recall why. Probably there was something on opposite it that my parents preferred to watch and since they controlled the television, that would be pretty much that.
I wound up stumbling onto one episode in the third season: “Is There in Truth No Beauty?” I was underwhelmed and didn’t bother to keep watching. However when I was in middle school, my friend Keith introduced me to the series through the James Blish-written books that were adaptations of the episodes. By that point the program had gone into syndication and I wound up watching “Who Mourns for Adonis?” I was totally hooked.
I met my first wife at a Star Trek convention. I met my second wife because she had made a Klingon puppet that I bought in order to use it as a prop during “Mystery Trekkie Theater,” the annual skewering of Trek that Bob Greenberger, Mike Friedman and I perform at Shore Leave convention. So basically my four children owe their lives to Star Trek.
I’ve become friends with some of the cast members. Attended George Takei’s wedding. Co-wrote Jimmy Doohan’s autobiography. Presented the Julie Award at Dragon*Con to Leonard Nimoy and, the following year, William Shatner. And I have an entire aspect of my career based on Star Trek novels.
Long live Star Trek.
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