Someone once said to me that she would break down and cry when (and if – modern medicine can do miracles, I hear) Patrick Stewart were to pass away. Of course, she wasn’t thinking of his masterful performances on stage as Lear and Prospero, but rather as Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

I love Patrick Stewart, but she was obviously younger than me, because my Star Trek memories are of the original series in syndication and the original movies (especially Wrath of Khan). As good at Stewart was, the others are only pretenders to the throne. Of the original duo, Kirk and Spock… Spock, aka Leonard Nimoy, has shuffled off his mortal coil.

He did more than Spock, of course (remember In Search Of?), but it is because he was Spock that I am reminded of a certain cultural mortality.

If I have children, they will never really know who Spock was and if I try to show them, they will merely mock an old man for watching something with such shoddy production values.

And one day, Kirk will be gone, too. And after that, there will soon be little memory of my Star Trek. Which, I suppose, is really just saying that one day, I will be dead and there will be a day, some time after – maybe years, maybe decades, maybe more, but there will be a day – when there will no longer be any memory of me or my world.

Happy hump day, folks.

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