I heard that a fella named Spock was
here yesterday and he was reading from a book. Is that right? This book
called … ya you know it, I Am Not
Spock . Anyway this fella Spock wrote a book called
I Am Not Spock . I was in … my
daughter, one of my daughters went to Springfield College in
Springfield, Massachusetts. I was there when she was interviewing and
seeing about housing and everything and we came across campus and were
going to the place where she was going live and you go across some
railroad tracks there. And alongside the tracks and beside the campus
was a little car, a little yellow hatchback and there were two fellas
there. The back of it was open and they had all this stuff
there--grandfather clocks and pants, and scarves, and dishes and
toasters and all kinds of things. I don't know if it was hot stuff or
what, but they were selling it and wanted to know if we wanted to buy
anything. We didn't. And the fella said I looked familiar. I didn't say
anything, but my daughter Robbie, Roberta said, “Spock's father.” You
know how kids are. A big kid now, but you can't keep 'em quiet anyway.
Anyway, so we walked on and we were walking down the street about a
couple of blocks away on the sidewalk. Suddenly up along the curb pulls
this yellow hatchback. Guy leans out of the window. The same guy. He
said, “Did you say you were Spock's father or Leonard Nimoy's father?”
So I'm going to write a book called I Am
Not Leonard Nimoy's Father.
I was at another convention and a fella did say, not a fella, this
wasn't a young fella, this was a man, a middle aged man. He said, “Could
you be Leonard Nimoy's father?” And I said, well you know we're pretty
close to the same age. Not more than two, three years difference. He
said, “Could you still be his father?” I said, Vulcans are precocious
but then …
This was in Star Trek the Motion
Picture. It was very, terribly hot. And the make-up was
terribly hot. It was in June during a terrible hot spell in California
and our dressing rooms were out in the street outside the
soundstage--temporary dressing rooms. I was standing in the doorway of
the dressing room. The air conditioning wasn't working. I was standing
in the doorway in my make-up and a woman came by. A young woman with a
child in her arms, a baby. And she said, “Ah, look at the monster! Look
at the monster!” So she brought the kid over to look at the monster and
he seemed unimpressed. He dropped his bottle. I was glad to see
that.
Anyway, in this dressing room was a dressing table and in the drawer
of the dressing table was a menu. Now Paramount has a pretty good dining
room though, a pretty good commissary. Never had one for many years. And
everyone went to a restaurant called Nickadell's around the corner. And
it's a very elaborate menu, a long menu. It's like a book. And you could
get anything you want. People used to go there to eat. The food was
okay. Pretty good. Great variety. Anyway, this menu was from Nickadell's
and written on the cover of the menu was PROPERTY OF LEONARD NIMOY DO
NOT REMOVE FROM THIS DRESSING ROOM. So, I removed it.
I had a fan club at the time. It's not active anymore. Its been
disbanded, but it was active for fourteen years. Anyway, I had the fan
club and I sent them this menu and they raffled it off. It was quite a
while ago you know, Star Trek the Motion
Picture and they raffled it off for charity and made
something like $103. And they wrote back, “We made $103 for charity from
the menu. See if there's anything else of Leonard Nimoy's that you can
get a hold of.” I never found anything else.
Sometimes I get mistaken for Marty Landau on Mission Impossible and all. In fact, I
used to play on that show where I played him playing me playing him.
People believed it. They made the mask and everything. You would see him
pulling up the mask and then the cut-in. Because it's film you can do
imaginative things with it. Cut right in to his face. And it looks as
though he's been playing. You know people believed that he was actually
playing it where it was me playing him. So I wondered if I'm too good
they'll think oh, he's terrific, Marty Landau. Anyhow, I shouldn't be
too good because then he won't look so good. But if I'm not good then I
won't look so good.
Years ago in Westwood, a great big theater. Westwood is where they
hold a lot of the premiers. It's where UCLA is. It's sort of the movie
movie theater center now in Los Angeles. And two fellas, Southerners I
guess, they had an accent, they were kind of following me around. It was
intermission or something. It was some big movie with an intermission.
Obviously they recognized me. I accepted the fact they recognized me and
I stopped to get a drink at the water fountain and the one fella said,
“Hot day isn't it, Mr. Landau?” I didn't say anything. I just walked
away.
There was a big convention in Chicago. In those days, they had very
large conventions. One night after I had spoken, I walked down Michigan
Avenue, which is the main avenue in Chicago, and coming up from the
lake, which is down below, there were lots of people. Hoards of people.
I stopped a young man and I said, what's going on down there? He said
they were having fireworks. Mayor Dailey was the Mayor at the time and
he put on shows, put on fireworks in order to keep the natives quiet.
Anyway, I thanked him and I walked on. As I walked a little ways
suddenly I heard footsteps come around. It was this fella coming around
in front of me. He said, “I know you. You're an actor. I just can't
think of your name.” I hesitated for a minute and I said, Leonard Nimoy.
He looked at me and said, “That's right!”
I've never told Leonard Nimoy that.
When is my birthday? You want the day, the hour, or the year? … The
date. I forget. I was born October 15th. I forget the year. It all
depends on where I am. As an actor, except in my case, you need position
because everybody says you always look younger. Supposed to play
102.37777 and 120 the last time, I'm bound to look younger. When you're
an actor you never play age. You play a range. From 6 to 38 or something
like that. From 21 to 57. That's your age range. You never give your age
because the minute you do they begin to see things in you.
I was in a soap opera for awhile called Another World. I played a friendly
gynecologist. Anyway, a noble gynecologist. I went to read for this soap
opera. And when I got there, there were all these men that looked like
they were in their 50's. And I said, what am I doing here I'm obviously
not right for this. I'm too young for this. But, I went in to read
anyway and they liked my reading. And they were interested in me and
wanted to introduce me to the director, the producer. Everybody was
there. That seemed a formality. It looked like they were ready to hire
me. And I thought, my God, you never give up on anything. You never
anticipate anything. It looks like I'm going to get out of this all
right.
Just as I was leaving the producer said to me, “Oh by the way, how
old are you?” I said, how old is the character? He said, “Well, he's
about your age.” I said, that's how old I am. They laughed and I left. I
told that to another Broadway producer once and he thought it was only
reasonably funny.
Anyway, I don't say anything about my age. I give a range or I say
nothing like that. You know, something kind of vague. The minute you
suggest something whether it's your age or your name, or something,
people begin see that in you. I could say that I'm a Vulcan and I have
pointed ears and they'd say, “Oh ya they do look a little, ah …”
Did I tell you about … years ago I used to get a lot of fanzines. All
kinds of them. And you know about the x-rated fanzines. I never, well, I
looked at them sometimes. Sometimes I didn't. Threw them in the back of
the car or something. One day I got into the car and my daughter was
four years old then. She got into the backseat and there was this
fanzine there. She opened it up and there was a centerfold and who
should be on the centerfold but Spock. And I'll tell you only that his
ears weren't the only thing about him that was pointed. She was four
then. She seemed, I won't say unimpressed, but it didn't seem to bother
her particularly. She's 21 now. She seems to, you know, have grown up
all right. I resolved never again to leave any of that stuff around, any
of the fanzines around without looking at them first.
Don't ask anymore questions for a minute I want to read you
something. I've done this before-before the time passes too quickly. How
much time do I have? … Somebody else is coming on. I have to get my
glasses. I want to read you something. This is something I discovered
and you may find something pertinent in it for all of you or part of
your lives. I find it fascinating. It's from a novel called Lithium for Medea . It's about a young girl.
Who marries a Trekkie. Well, she just mentions it in passing. It's a
very interesting story. They're in Berkley. I guess going to the
university there. She's nineteen or something. Well, the rest will
explain itself. His name is Gerald.
Okay. They have this apartment there in Berkley. Going to school.
Remember the time is different. He had a guitar and he played the
guitar. Anyway, here it is.
…'When Gerald wasn't reading, he was sitting in the lotus position on
his straw mat in front of the television. Each night, at six o'clock, as
if a gong had been struck summoning the faithful back to prayer, Gerald
assumed the lotus position on his straw mat and turned on Star Trek. He sat there barely breathing,
rapt, as if in a religious communion.
The program was about a starship, a gigantic machine holding a crew
of 400 human beings who seemed to be wearing flannel pajamas. The
starship Enterprise was one of only twelve such ships in the fleet. Its
five-year mission was to roam through the galaxy seeking new worlds and
new civilizations and boldly going where no man had gone before. After
awhile, I realized Gerald planned to watch the entire five-year
mission.
Sometimes the Enterprise found parallel universes remarkably similar
to Earth, like planets patterned on the mob-ruled Chicago of the
thirties, or the Nazis, or ancient Rome with the added attraction of
modern technology.
There were planets where rulers lived in a cloud of magnificent
splendor while the majority of the population suffered cruel
exploitation below, in the mines where a poisonous gas retarded their
intellectual development. There were planets of aliens with antenna on
their paper-thin white faces and the power to alter matter at will.
There were green men, horned men, giants, dwarfs, blobs, monsters,
Amazons and wayward telepathic children. There were decadent
civilizations run by computers. There were witches, soldiers, merchants,
kings, scholars, warriors, peasants, and killers.
The Enterprise was run by Captain James T. Kirk. Gerald dismissed him
as meaningless. Gerald was only concerned with Spock, the first officer,
a scientist who was half human, half Vulcan. Vulcans had conquered their
aggressive tendencies by severe mental discipline. Vulcans were freed of
the scourge of unpredictability and emotion and love.
Gerald had a special appreciation for the forces and events that
occasionally allowed Spock to have emotion. Once Spock was hit in the
face by a kind of psychedelic plant that made him climb trees and laugh.
And once Spock went back in time to an ice age generations before his
people had conquered emotions. Spock reverted to barbarism, ate meat and
had sex with a woman. Normally Spock had sex only once every seven
years. And then sex consisted of something like an intense handshake.
The rest of the time Spock amused himself with a special neck grip that
made people instantly collapse, a more than genius IQ and a form of
telepathy called the Vulcan Mind Meld. Spock also had gracefully arched
pointed ears and greenish skin. Gerald seemed to love him.
“It's a metaphor,” Gerald would say.
“But we've seen this one before. At least three times.”
“Five times,” Gerald corrected, sitting in the lotus position
transfixed.
Gerald claimed each new viewing revealed another aspect of the ship's
functioning or Starfleet Command. Gerald wasn't concerned with the
plots. He was interested in the details at the edges.
“This is a poem about humanity,” Gerald said, staring at the
screen.
“But we've seen this show five times.”
“The man of knowledge is a patient man,” Gerald said, dismissing me
…'
Well, she goes away for awhile. Goes back to Los Angeles to see her
mother or something. And eventually she comes back. When she comes back
she opens the door and …
'Gerald was sitting in his same position at the kitchen table. He was
reading Rollo May. He did not look at me.
… Now he watched old black-and-white movies, grainy from age, about
radiation monsters and magnetic monsters that looked like vacuum
cleaners. Giant reptiles stepped over miniature cardboard Londons and
Tokyos, breathing fire like mythological dragons. An American town was
held in the hypnotic grip of aliens, things hatched from eggs or born
from large seed pods.
“It's a metaphor,” Gerald said. “Science fiction is our modern
mythology. It's industrial man's creation myth.”
I would lie back in the thick heat half-listening to the birth and
death of monsters in the living room. The voices seemed muted and
scratchy like the poor old grainy prints. Always, in the end, a gleeful
but subdued and momentarily humbled population smiled from the ruins of
London or Chicago while the monster burned, while the monster was
reduced to a big puddle of ash, while the monster was chained or hacked
or drowned.
“It's an allegory about human nature,” Gerald said. “Don't you
understand the importance of this? …”
Somewhere, Kirk stared into what looked like a small flashlight. “Are
they intelligent?” he asked.
Somewhere, Spock stared into what appeared to be a fancy toothbrush.
“They do have a highly organized, efficient system of government. They
have roads, monuments, scientific institutions, peace, prosperity,
compassion, justice.”
“Yes, but are they intelligent?” Kirk asked. “Have they got motels
and car washes? Do they have Pepsi and credit ratings?” …'
Anyway, you see, you're not alone in the world. People have said to
me afterwards, “Oh yes, that's my family life.”
One young woman said to me that she had a baby and they brought the
baby in for feeding while Star
Trek was on. She sent it back. Well, not permanently.
I'm going to tell you one brief story before I go and it has to do
with kind of the personalities on Star
Trek. I know you've heard a lot of things about them. I
don't know if they're particularly true-that a lot of the egos on
Star Trek, and some people are
difficult--I don't know anything about that.
Anyway this story was told to me and I can't swear to it but they say
it comes from a good source.
Apparently Dr. McCoy, DeForest Kelly and Spock, Leonard Nimoy, and
Bill Shatner, Captain Kirk got together and they were kind of comparing
notes you know-a battle of egos among them. Dr. McCoy, De Kelly said,
“You know Universal …”
And you know what the red telephone is. After the missile crisis a
direct line was installed between the Premier of Russia and the
President of the United States because they came very close to having a
nuclear confrontation. Or a confrontation of some sort. So it's called
the red telephone and it's a direct line so they can call each other and
say, “Oops, ah Gorby I just made a mistake.”Anyway, so that's the red
telephone. And it's a very important direct line.
So De Kelly said, “You know I had an interview with President Regan
and when I was there the red telephone rang and he picked it up and he
said, 'Yes, Mr. Gorbachev' and he started talking with Gorbachev while I
was still in the room. Didn't ask me to leave or anything. I was just
sitting there and he just carried on this top secret conversation with
the Premier of Russia.”
So Spock, Leonard Nimoy said, “Well, it just so happens that I had an
interview with President Regan, too. And when I was there the red
telephone rang and the President picked it up and he said, 'Hello Mr.
Gorbachev. Excuse me, Mr. Gorbachev I'm having an interview with Leonard
Nimoy, ah, can you call back in twenty minutes?' ”
Well, William Shatner, Captain Kirk said, “you know it just so
happens that I had an interview with President Regan and when I was
there the red telephone rang and he picked it up and he said, 'Yes,
hello Mr. Gorbachev. Yes, Mr. Gorachev. That's right, Mr. Gorbachev. All
right, Mr. Gorbachev. One minute Mr. Gorbachev.'”
And he turned to Shatner and he said, “It's for you.”
-------Transcription © Lynda King
May not be reproduced
without her expressed
permission.
