The End of Star Trek

I know that I am not unique in my adoration for Star Trek or one of the biggest Star Trek fans. Actually I will not miss Enterprise per se, but what it represents.

When my brother died, I spent the night watching the Aliens series of movies because it is what he would have wanted. He loved Star Trek, and I probably would have never seen an episode if he did not sneak in an episode when mom was not around. Mom is the only member of my family who does not get why everyone loves this show. She sees it as a show with adults walking around a cardboard set with ugly makeup on.

Star Trek is the last optimistic series in existence. I do not understand how any one as old as Gene Roddenbury, who also worked in the television industry, managed to believe that the ideal was possible. By watching each Star Trek incarnation, anyone could deduce that he really believed that regardless of difference, historical animosity and other insurmountable obstacles, ultimately people would be able to unite in an effort to make our universe a better place. He believed in showing the nobility of a cause. He could imagine a universe with no hunger, greed or prejudice.

Yet Roddenbury started this series in the 60s! I can't imagine believing that any of this was possible during a decade of assassinations and war. While others were protesting with their bodies wedged in between a lunch counter and a group of raging racists, he protested with his imagination.

Roddenbury's imagination has continued long after he has gone. He has influenced so many generations. The first Star Trek episode that I saw after my brother's death was a syndicated repeat of The Next Generation's The Dark Page. I just cried the entire time, and every once in awhile, inexplicably I will cry while the theme song is playing. Tonight was no different when I heard my favorite part of the theme song, the voiceover "to go where no man has gone before." Each time that I viewed a Star Trek episode, regardless of whether or not the episode was humorous or grave, it could potentially elicit such a response.

I'm just 29, and I do not share Roddenbury's hope for humanity. Every day, original sin seems to trump humanism, and I despair over the little ways that human beings commit suicide: by driving an SUV, by not caring for their families and by not thinking that every decision makes a difference. My hope lies in Someone other than humanity, but I can appreciate that regardless of our beliefs, Roddenbury shares that same hope and never allowed it to be extinguished.

I am glad that Roddenbury did not live long enough to see a world ruled by ignorance and hatred of science's efforts to save Earth from global warming or to witness the most devastating terrorist attack known to mankind. We are the unfortunate ones because Roddenbury was a beacon of imaginative reason who could perhaps convince those with hardened hearts to do the right thing.

I hope that his vision will not die with the last episode. Thank you Gene Roddenbury for keeping hope alive!

Told You So! More on Yellowstone, the Supervolcano

http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2005-05-09-yellowstone-volcano_x.htm

Happy Mother's Month

May is Mommy month for me because it is Mother's Day and my mom's birthday. Oddly enough, the month had a rocky start because Mom went on strike. Let me explain. Mom lives with me in my condo. Saying that she lives with me is an important distinction because people often ask me, "Do you live with your mother?" No. The phrase, "living with my mother," implies that it is her house and rules, and that I'm some kind of loser who is too immature to take care of myself.

When I say, "My mother lives with me," I mean that we have spheres of influence, but ultimately, it is my condo. I'm an adult, and it is a daily part of my routine to balance being grateful for all that she does while simultaneously saying "No thanks," to her careful ministrations.

If you have ever returned home to stay with your parents and discover yourself reverting to the role of a child, then you may understand what I mean. I constantly have to remind her that she has a life of her own; that she can do what she wants; and she no longer has to do things for me. This admonishment does not stop Mom from making all the meals, throwing out the garbage and keeping the house clean. So we implicitly divided our duties along those lines--I deal with the outside world, and she deals with the inside.

I'm really lucky because whenever I call my friends who live by themselves, they find themselves helpless in front of a slow defrosting whole chicken. I don't have to struggle with deciding what I'm going to have for dinner or clean the bathroom. I always have clean clothes. I am grateful for all the countless ways that Mom makes my life easier, but there are some negatives.

For instance, some of her foibles are typical Mom behavior. She has instructions on how everything should be done-from how to wrap lunch, where to place the water and food in the refrigerator and when to throw out the garbage. If you don't do it her way, she will keep saying something until you do it her way or helpfully tell you why it is the best way to do something.

Some things are less cute. Mom is always worried that something may happen to me so she likes to know where I am at all times. So my cell phone may ring constantly, even when I am not permitted to answer it at work. If I don't answer, then when I am able to return her call, it can take ten minutes to convince her that I am really at work or where ever I was supposed to be. Once I come home, she expects that I will spend every minute at home with her. I like spending time with her so I compromise by devoting part of Wednesday night with her and the entire evening on Thursday (also known as Mark Burnett night); Friday or Saturday and Sunday.

If she does not get one of those evenings, it does not matter what I do. I am not going to have any peace in my home. She cannot be dissuaded when I ask her to put it in perspective. After all, parents usually do not get to spend every day with their adult child and are lucky to get a call.

If you have not read C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves, I suggest that you do so immediately. He characterizes the scenario perfectly, and when I read it, I knew that Mrs. Fidget often made guest appearances in my home. So when Mom became frustrated with my lack of attention, claimed that I didn't appreciate her and went on strike, I was delighted.

In the end, it was the best week ever. Mom did not anticipate what torture it would be for her. I responded to her "strike" by not responding to her less than reasonable demands and insisted that she follow through with her threat. I prepared my own meals while she asked me questions to make sure that I was doing it right. "It smells like it is burning." "It is just fine," I mumbled back with a mouth full of food. When she thought that I was not looking, she would clean my dishes. I still spent time with her, but only when I was available. I returned her calls when I felt like it. Because my attention was not in response to her immediate demands for attention, I hope that she valued it more.

Today was the end of her strike, and she is utterly relieved. She finally accepted some dinner that I made in her honor days ago. She is free to do what she loves, which is apparently to make my life better. I love her and do appreciate it. I just wish that she would remember C.S. Lewis' words: "We feed children in order that they may soon be able to feed themselves; we teach them in order that they may soon not need our teaching."

Mom, you are more than a mother and more than what you do for me! This is the time in life when you can do whatever you want! Please accept my gift of freedom. Don't worry about me. I'm fine, and I'll be right here.

Update: Upcoming Open Studios/Art Walks

Last weekend, I spent both Saturday and Sunday walking in the rain to see the artists featured at the Somerville Open Studios (SOS). SOS featured over NINETY artists so it was impossible to see each one, but I made valiant efforts to do so with a good friend from law school, Dr. Esq. By the end of the weekend, my feet just ached, and I considered myself fortunate when I was physically capable of walking on Monday.

Yesterday, Dr. Esq and I went to the Fort Point Art Walk. The difference between Open Studios and an Art Walk appears to be the number of artists featured. We started at 12:30 PM and were finished by 4:30, which is a record! It was rainy and windy so we were often the only visitors in the artist's studio.

Next weekend, North Cambridge will have its eighth annual open studios. The weekend of May 21st and 22nd is going to be insane because the Brookline Open Studios and the SoWa Art Walk are scheduled for the same days and time. The East Boston Open Studios is scheduled on June 4th and 5th from 12-6PM.

Remember, you don't have to buy anything or know anything about art so get out there, wear some walking shoes and start exploring your neighborhood!

Words To Live By

"Tana, I see a woman who wants to put beads on her shirt, and that's not what I'm all about"
-Donald Trump