To Boldly Go…

One of my favorite TV shows of all time was “Star Trek”, now identified with the letters TOS as The Original Series, to distinguish it from the many spin-offs. ST:TOS was produced on a shoe-string budget with lots of hokey stuff for the special effects. However, it was a ground-breaking show--original, creative, forward thinking, intelligent (the network originally considered it too “cerebral” for the average viewer) and appealed, at first, to a narrow audience of “thinkers”. It’s creator, Gene Roddenberry utilized some of the best sci-fi writers (and some not so sci-fi) of the era to bring his vision of the future to life and to tackle some highly controversial issues, religious, social and political. I am proud to have been, and still am, among the many “cerebral” fans of the show. Those fans were and are among the cream of the intellectual crop of Americans who saw beyond the hokey effects, makeshift scenery, and sometimes over-emotive acting, to the real Star Trek and it‘s deeper messages and lessons. On ST:TOS morality, honesty, integrity, and brotherhood were alive and well, along with a lot more American values.

So, I offer you this, from one of my favorite blogs--The Corner, published by NRO (and one of my favorite NRO writers). Enjoy and be edified. I certainly could not have written it better! Live long and prosper!

"It's Time For A Confession [Jonah Goldberg]

I've decided I really just don't like Star Trek: Next Generation (ST: TNG) very much. For years, I was its defender against all comers. I liked it a lot when it was still on the air. And I liked it in reruns for awhile. But the more I watch it, the less I find redeeming about it (you might see my influence on this score in this quasi editorial). There are things I still like about it, but it's become increasingly difficult to separate the quadrotriticale from the chaff. But, for now let me speak in broad brushstrokes. Everything good about the show, they fell over backwards into.

Indeed, almost everything about TNG was designed to be the opposite of The Original Series (TOS). They originally thought that Ryker was going to be this really powerful personality, a James T. Kirk as second-in-command who actually kept the captain safely on board. But, he sucked. He was a bad actor, and he allowed himself to be upstaged by a Euroweenie with a French attitude and name (in fairness Patrick Stewart is a much better actor). The original Trek was a Cold War drama where a Kennedy-esque captain, exploring the new, final, frontier was willing to pay any price, bear any burden for decency and freedom. The enemies were totalitarians — Klingons, Romulans etc. The new Trek took the Prime Directive deadly seriously and went out of its way time and again to set itself off from the understated Americanism of the original series. Now, the greatest enemies were the Ferengi — runaway capitalists with bullwhips who looked like a mix between Nazi caricatures of Jews and the original Nosferatu. They failed miserably as villains and, over time, had to become comedic relief. The Borg were eventually introduced as the signature bad guys of Star Trek because — guess what? — collectivists always make for better enemies than capitalists, even bad capitalists. But one gets the distinct impression that if the producers had their druthers, the villains in Star Trek would have remained anti-environmental, free-market, unilateralists until the bitter end.
But we can come back to that. What also drove me crazy was how someone got it into their head that Star Trek needed to be a showcase for the acting chops of the entire ensemble. So one episode we get to follow Dr. Crusher around the ship for a frick'n hour as she tries to muster a feminist complaint in the 23rd century. In another episode, we're expected to sustain interest in Troi's romantic life. The constant explorations of Data's inner life at least had some sci-fi benefits — he was an android after all — but even here the priority seemed to be to show that Brent Spiner can act.

Which brings me to the hideous holodeck. It makes noooooo sense scientifically. But we can forgive that, I guess. But it makes even less sense dramatically — for a sci-fi show. Who wants to watch the crew of the USS Enterprise solve a 1930s crime story — a billion frick'n times? In interviews, you could tell that the actors though the holodeck was perhaps the best part of the show because it allowed them to do all sorts of different and exciting things as actors. Well guess what? The show is not about the actors! The most successful star of the whole series was William Shatner for Pete's sake.

What's interesting, to me at least, is that TOS still holds up, while TNG basically does not. The acting, the effects and even, in a sense, the writing of TNG is better. But the original series has a soul and a clear vision. The vision of TNG is a post Cold War vision and as such it lacked coherence. It tried to marry Roddenberry's optimistic dream of the future with a critical stance toward the present, and it came up with mush. The best things about TNG were those things that the fans wanted — more war, more Worf, more action — and the producers stumbled on. Contrast this with Battlestar Galactica, which has a critical, albeit complicated, vision of our own time but also has a pessimistic vision of our future (or what might turn out to be our future). One could defend TNG college-administrators-in-space goody-goody banality by arguing that it was an interesting and somewhat accurate reflection on the "holiday from history" zeitgeist that saturated the 1990s while Battlestar Galactica reflects our more interesting times. But that just underscores how Battlestar Galactica is, in fact, interesting and Star Trek the Next Generation really isn't, at least not anymore.”

These Precious Days

“…With the Lord one day is as a thousand years,
And a thousand years as one day.”
2 Peter 3:8

As the Days Dwindle Down

“To everything there is a season,
And a time for every purpose under heaven--”
Eccl 3:1


It seems to me the seasons so parallel life…Spring-birth and childhood, innocent, fragile, in need of nurturing; Summer-youthful, carefree, unpredictable, sometimes stormy, and hot!; Autumn-maturity, serenity, acceptance and adulthood; Winter-the golden twilight of life, serenely nostalgic, reminiscing, and preparing to return home to our Father. Why not equate winter with death? Simple, Winter is not death, but a preparation for new life to come. Casting off the old to be reborn into new life.

We’re all kind of used to it, inured to the necessity of the routine of daily life. Sometimes barely, and sadly, unaware of how life is changing all around us. We hardly even notice this amazing cycle of life and the changes it brings…so much beauty, so much to see, so much to miss with our hustle-bustle, day-to-day “busyness”. Take a break, take the time to stop and really see the wonders God works on this corner of the universe, this little blue marble we inhabit. Step back, relax, and soak in September’s song.

It has all been occurring with predictable consistency since the beginning of time---

“That which has been is that which will be,
And that which has been done is that which
Will be done.
So, there is nothing new under the sun.”
Eccl 1:9

September evenings, longer now with the earlier setting sun. A prophetic forecast of the coming autumn and winter. Autumn days, some as warm and sultry as a day in August, some with the chill of winter’s bite in the air. For some it’s a welcome respite from hot, hazy, humid summer…for some a sad farewell, see you next time. It’s all a matter of taste, I suppose.

"Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh so mellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain so yellow…
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow--follow…"
- Try to Remember, Jones/Schmidt


Yes, autumn is such a beautiful season, a gentle transition, just as spring is an awakening, a birth and rebirth…autumn is a waning, the earth gently returning to herself. It is God’s plan, just as He has designed our lives, so He has designed the life of mother earth.

Evenings are refreshingly cool, the silence pleasantly broken by the chirping of the last crickets songs until silenced by the cold to come. Bumblebees are lazily kissing the last roses of summer and the profusion of fall blossoms-soft lavender dusty miller, the contrast of bright red salvia, a kaleidoscope of marigolds, regal chrysanthemums, all arrayed in their autumn finery.

I love to watch the leaves drifting down in little rivulets on the soft breeze, in torrential showers of color with the northern winds…red, orange, yellow, rust, bronze. Little splashes of green holding on as if clinging to life with their last breath. A solitary green leaf clings tenaciously to the very tip of a branch. The trees shed their raiment in preparation for a long sleepy winter only to be clothed in white, as though wearing a coat of ermine, with the first falling snows.

How delightful it is when acorns come raining down with the strong autumn winds, drumming their rat-a-tat rhythm on the rooftop and on the pavement. Falling to the ground for all God’s little creatures to harvest. Squirrels and chipmunks scurry to and fro in my yard busily gathering them and the fruits still clinging to the bushes. Stocking their little larders with golden-brown acorns for a sleepy mid-winter feast, to sustain them until the first fruits of spring once again break forth. Time to start filling the bird feeders again. Time for the last visits from the Chickadees with their pert little black caps, the Mourning Doves with their soulful cooing, the fleeting flashes of the bright little Goldfinches. The beautiful Cardinals will stay, their plumage somewhat dimmed by the season, along with the tenacious little sparrows, they will feed through the winter on the bounty we provide. Just as God in His infinite mercy and miracle of creation provides us with a bounty of autumn sustenance for our bodies--pumpkins and squash in a rainbow of hues, tubers, grains, greens, and so much more. As He sustains our souls with His word and promises of new life to come, He sustains our physical bodies with His bountiful fruits of the earth and the eternal promise of the coming of spring and re-birth.

I am not saddened by the waning of summer and the entrance of autumn on this stage of life. I am amazed and elated by once again seeing the miracles and the cycles of life and living. I am filled with the wonder of all the sights, scents, and sounds He has provided to thrill my senses. This is God’s bountiful gift to us, this world of wonder, of change, of delight. These are the precious days I’ll spend with Him.

"Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November…
And these few precious days I’ll spend with you
These precious days I’ll spend with you."
Anderson/Weill

Addio Maestro

Now, he sings to the Master Musician with the Angelic Choir...addio Luciano.

Those Were the Days…of TV’s Golden Age

A recent blog post by my dear friend and literary mentor, brought back so many fond memories and inspired this post. In it she mentions a classic comedian from the early days of “fifties” TV when life was simpler and it didn’t take profanity, degrading people, explicit or inferred sex or violence, to make people laugh and forget their troubles. Maybe I’m old-fashioned…no-- no maybe about it…I am!!!…when it comes to what is right and wrong with most of what passes for “comedy” today ( and a few other things, too). Hey, whatta ‘ya know!…a Baby-Boomer with old-fashioned values!

Jackie Gleason, Sid Cesar and Imogene Coca, Jimmy Durante, and of course, the inimitable and irreplaceable Lucy. (In case you haven’t a clue…that’s the incomparable, irrepressible, scatter-brained, hilarious, carrot-top, Lucille Ball). And if none of these names ring a bell, look them up on the WWW!

More recently people like Bill Cosby carried on the tradition of “rolling them in the aisles” with good, clean humor that your folks weren’t worried about their kids seeing and hearing. Oh, and how about “the Santa Clause”, better known as Tim Allen, whose TV show, "Home Improvement", was good wholesome family fun. How sad and what a pitiful commentary on the decline of social and moral values in this great country of ours that it has all but disappeared. Oh sure, some of these performers had other, more “adult” acts elsewhere, but not on TV, not in our living rooms. Even “Everybody Loves Raymond”, as family-oriented and funny as it was…and it was a great sitcom…focused on a dysfunctional and sometimes hurtful family and even they sometimes resorted to overt sexual situations, “potty humor” and double-entendres. Some “reality” is funny, a lot of it isn’t and comedy should help us escape reality, forget the hurts or laugh at what skims the surface of “reality” and feel better…not mirror our own pain or elicit uncomfortable, self-conscious laughs. Even the Bunkers were kinder and gentler with their witty, often biting, and very often not-PC, satire.

But, back to the topic at hand. A sweet, multi-talented man of many faces and characters who got his start in Vaudeville, just as many of his contemporaries did. Vaudeville was live, rough, and raunchy, but none of these comedians brought the seamy side of their comedy into our homes. We didn’t have to monitor programs or put “kid locks” on the remote.

His name was Red Skelton. Learn more about him and be delighted. He was Klem Kadidddlehopper, Freddie the Freeloader, and more. He was truly one-in-a-million. He made us laugh with him at his often poignant portrayals, and he always respected us and himself. These were the values of Red Skelton and those of us who loved watching and listening to him…

In tribute to Red Skelton, and with thanks for all he gave us.

…one more time in his own words…Good night, and God Bless.

Klingon’s Bane?

…eat…sleep…make babies!!!











Do you know what you get when you feed a tribble too much?

…A fat tribble?…

Noooo…….. you get a whole bunch of hungry little tribbles…it seems tribbles are bisexual, reproducing at will. And, brother, have they got a lot of will.

"Just before they went into warp, I beamed the whole kit and kaboodle into their engine room, where they'll be no tribble at all." -- Scotty, explaining how he got rid of the tribbles (The Trouble With Tribbles)

Ina-CAT-a-da-Vida

I iz world renowned opercatic tenor!
Ma name he iz Enrico Catruso.

Katz iz Kingz!