I certainly have nothing cogent to add to the already ridiculous political discussion on Facebook. No sense in joining that shit show. So in addition to recusing myself from the cacophony that is Facebook politics, here’s my list of ten other reasons I’ve not written much lately.
1. Winter’s here and it’s hard to type when wearing mittens.
2. My give-a-shit meter is pegged.
3. Lamenting the dreaded holiday season in writing makes me seem like a non-McDuck Scrooge.
4. Because I’m cold all the time, my brain functions more slowly.
(Now this requires a brief explanation. As a rough approximation, for many chemical reactions happening at around room temperature, the rate of reaction doubles for every 10°C rise in temperature. Therefore, it stands to reason that there would be a commensurate reduction in rate for similar drops in temperature. It is winter. I am cold. My brain is also cold. Therefore, my brain chemistry is slowed and there exists a reduction in brain function sufficient to inhibit writing. QED.)
5. See reason #2.
6. I’ve been unusually busy at work. (This one’s actually true. I’ve been unexpectedly busy this year during the weeks when it’s usually slow. I suspect that’s just probably procrastination and piss-poor prior planning on my part.)
7. Supporting Emmett during his recovery from a recent muscular injury and upset tummy took up much of my attention. (He’s fine now, thanks for asking.)
8. I was busy binge watching a season and a half of “Daredevil,” the entire season of “Luke Cage,” both on Netflix, and the “Star Trek: TOS” marathon on BBC America. Priorities, people. Priorities.
As an additional thought this morning after. Even though he was not my choice, I will do eveything in my power to help our new President succeed. To wish for or work towards this or any U.S. President’s failure because he wasn’t your candidate is to work towards the failure of our Nation. No one wants that. I WANT this President to succeed because when our President succeeds, so do we all.
To all my politically inclined Facebook friends:
Good morning! Either congratulations are in order or condolences. Either way, our Nation has chosen its leader without war, without bloodshed and without a change in the fundamental way our Nation is governed. Our system — the American system of government defined in the Constitution of the United States did its job and a peaceful selection of a leader by the masses has occurred.
Do not take this for granted.
There are many nations around the world in which a transition of any kind results in death, destruction and the suppression of rights. As I write this at 9:25 AM on the day after election day, my cable TV is still working, my Internet access is still blazingly fast (according to Comcast) and I can still search for and find opposing views on any issue my meager brain can conjure.
Do not take this for granted.
Yes, there ought to be election reform. Yes, there ought to be less pissing and moaning between candidates for any office. Yes, it would be lovely if the candidates focused on ideas for the Nation instead of on how to get elected. And yes, the governed need to feel as though their vote actually impacts the election; that they’re closer to their government than they are now. But I would not trade this system of government for any other system of government in the world.
I will not take this for granted.
I’ve listened to the sniping among my friends and colleagues. I’ve seen the anger over whose candidate is better, more qualified, more personable and more competent, and most of that has really turned me off to the political process. But I voted. I’ve had my say. And now it’s time for all of us who are far more alike than we are different to recognize that we are Americans FIRST. Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, Green, Yellow, Purple, Chartreuse — frankly I’m not interested in your partisan rants. We are Americans, dammit, and we can and should come together and stay together regardless of who won last night. We are stronger, better, more productive and more compassionate when we concentrate on our similarities than our differences.
So today, instead of gloating or drinking heavily, look at that person on my Facebook page whose posts you hate to read ’cause it really gets on your nerves and think to yourself “We’re both Americans. I’ll bet that person likes ice cream just like I do.” Find the commonalities. Find the things that make us alike rather than the things that make us different. You’re all my friends for a reason: I’ve found something in each of you that is similar to something I find in myself. You all, my Facebook friends, have me in common. (And there’s no one more common than me!)
See if you can find what else you have in common with one another. You might just be surprised that you’re far more alike than you think.
It’s nearly Election Day and hopefully, blessed relief from all the noise, anger and bitterness that has characterized this presidential election season. To my knowledge, no party and no one can be held harmless in directing invective at their opponent. Every side has engaged in election tactics and behaviors that are genuinely disheartening to any rational person. I, for one, will be relieved to see this election in the history books no matter who winds up with the Presidency. I just want it to be over with at this point.
And shame on us as a nation for buying into this. Voting is supposed to be largely an intellectual exercise not a visceral one. We should be deciding the Presidency based on fact and logic not innuendo and hype. Yet this is what 2016 has come to. Hell, even rabid Chicago Cubs and Cleveland Indians fans in the midst of the 2016 World Series, one of the closest and most exciting in history, sounded almost Spockishly rational compared to the candidates and their surrogates. Since when are Americans more rational about the outcome of sporting events than the outcome of presidential politics? That’s bass ackwards.
Yet here we are.
I keep reminding myself that it’ll all be over soon but that’s not very comforting considering the slate of candidates with which we have been presented. Yes, as a nation, we screwed up by buying into the hype and the leaks and the sound bites, but the political parties also screwed up by giving us less than their best. If this is the best that they can offer up, I really do fear for the future of the United States and its Constitution.
My high school history instructor at Valley Forge Military Academy, one Air Force Colonel George Rickert, drilled into us that the collection of minds that created the Constitution of the United States was the single greatest collection of minds ever assembled and that even in the midst of the compromises that were necessary to create it, the product of their work would stand the test of time because of those great minds.
I agree. So much so that I and millions of other veterans have sworn to support and defend it. It’s the one thing that gives me hope not just for the outcome of this election but for its aftermath as well. Yes, we’ve been pissing in each others’ lunch boxes for nearly two years’ worth of run-up to this election, but in the end, the checks and balances created by that greatest collection of minds will keep things from imploding. The Constitution and its authors created a system of government which is highly resilient — resilient enough to handle whatever comes of this Nation and no matter who winds up in the White House in January.
On Tuesday, the Nation makes its choice. Perhaps reluctantly, but we will choose. And while we have failed as a Nation to uphold our responsibility to be a well informed electorate, while our political parties have failed to provide us with the best, brightest and truly inspirational leaders, and while our Fourth Estate has failed to act as an objective check on American politics, we will survive this. The United States of America will be just fine, thank you very much.
The road to excellence in politics is bumpy right now but the GPS was set in 1789 by people who really knew what they were doing. They had faith in the future of the Nation and I have faith in what they created.
We told Andy to smile at a family photo and this is what we got. That’ll give you an idea of what Andy’s all about.
This is undoubtedly a day for great celebration.
Today is my son, Andy’s 30th birthday.
Well, technically it’s a celebration of the anniversary of the day of his birth, which was October 26th, 1986. But you know what I mean.
30 years old. Damn, you’re old. You’re over the hill now.
Andy was born at 9:03pm at the long since demolished old U.S. Air Force Regional Hospital at Elmendorf Air Force Base, so the party doesn’t start until 9:03 tonight when it’s officially official. As you may know, Andy still lives in Alaska and really loves it up there. Like anyone’s hometown, it’s home to him and that’s as it should be.
While October 26th is the recorded date of arrival, it was very nearly a week earlier.
About two weeks before Andy made his grand entrance, the whole family got sick with the flu. I mean REALLY sick. Violently so. At two years old, Andy’s older brother Jonathon probably got the worst of it, constantly throwing up, ingesting replacement fluids so that he didn’t get dehydrated, and then barfing it up all over again before he could blink. I remember him crying and crying and crying because he was so ill.
I was equally stricken, and for a week or so, I was in the same boat as poor little Jon was, but I swore a lot more.
Their Mom, Deborah, was also horribly sick. Same symptoms, same threat of dehydration, and even more swearing, except that she was probably the sickest of the three of us because she was puking for two.
Taking care of Jon was hard enough when he alone was sick, but when Deb, Jon and I all got sick at the same time, there was hardly any energy to do much beyond the basics for any of us. We were expending all our energy just being sick. It was a miserable ten days or so for the three of us.
The Sunday before the Sunday Andy was born, I came downstairs after finally getting Jon to sleep. I discovered Deborah sitting motionless on the couch in the living room of our quarters on 520-B 7th Street at Fort Richardson, dazed with what the Army calls “the thousand yard stare.” Actually it was closer to two thousand. Just looking at her, you could tell that the lights were on, but nobody was home.
“Deb?” I asked tentatively. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” She replied weakly, speech slurred, “but I think I’m starting to have contractions.”
“Are you sure?” I asked stupidly full well knowing that she knew what contractions were better than I did.
She rolled her eyes and looked at me with an unusually weak look of disdain. “Let’s just sit here for a couple of minutes and see,” she added weakly and went back to being really out of it. Her demeanor was so weak that it genuinely scared me but she was the boss so we waited a little while. When her condition didn’t improve and the contractions increased, she said that we’d better go to the hospital. So we packed her up and got her off to the emergency room at Elmendorf.
She was immediately brought in and given IV fluids to counter the dehydration from which she had been suffering. Once she got sufficient fluids in her, the contractions weakened and eventually stopped and after a time, she was released to go home with strict orders to hydrate.
During the next week, the three of us finally got well enough that we were getting back to normal. The next Sunday, on the 26th, Andy arrived. No problems, no complications. Just a happy, healthy small redheaded human.
After all the commotion at the hospital, two-year-old Jon, sufficiently recovered, came over to meet his brother. Deb and I thought ahead and pre-positioned a toy car in the hospital room that Jon could ride around on as a gift from his new brother, hopefully mitigating the attention that Andy was about to get. It worked and they’ve been virtually inseparable ever since.
Jon and Andy, circa 1988.
Some weeks later, Robin Baizel, one of our friends who had appeared in a stage play that Deborah and I worked out in Eagle River, Alaska, came over to meet the new human. When Deb brought Andy downstairs, she started laughing, pointed at him and then at me and said “Oh my god, it’s a clone!” I just remember her laughing so hard that she could barely choke out the words.*
Charlie on C-SPAN.
In 2004, he and his brother came to promote me to colonel at the Pentagon. Attending the ceremony were the two general officers from Army Public Affairs, many of my colleagues and friends, and one Charles Krohn. Charlie was a very accomplished member of the Senior Executive Service and the senior civilian in Army Public Affairs.
After the ceremony, Charlie came up to me and said “I was really impressed with your younger son.”
“Andy?” I said.
“Yeah, the redheaded one” he confirmed. “He’s a pretty heads up kid. He and I talked for quite a while and he was able to hold his own with me. Very impressive!”
That’s Andy. From the time he was little, he was always able to mix it up in whichever group he found himself.
Me, Andy’s Step-mom, Janice, brother Jonathon and the birthday boy at the Pentagon in 2003.
I was proud of him then and I’m proud of him now. He handled himself adeptly during his Mom’s recent illness in South Carolina, spending every day for weeks at the hospital with her, while in his spare time, assisting Deb’s family in the aftermath of Andy’s grandfather’s death just days before.
So that’s the story of how Andy almost arrived a week early. It’s also the story of why I always get my flu shot. (You should, too.)
But the real reason for this post is that Andy, you’re 30 today. It’s one of those milestones that make you think you’re old. And you are. Very, very old now. Ancient. Almost decrepit. Make no mistake about it. On the upside, you’re never REALLY old until you’re as old as me. Or Methuselah. And if you get to be as old as he was, think how much interest will be in your 401k!
Happy birthday, sir! Enjoy this great day!
Love you, dude!
* Quick sidebar — Deborah Ginsburg, Andy’s mom, remembered Robin’s exclamation more accurately than I did and the verbiage contained herein was corrected to so reflect. Thanks, Deb!
My brother, Jefferson, penned this on Facebook and it doesn’t get any better than this. Thanks for permitting me the honor of posting this here.
My mom, Mary Jo, died in July at age 86. She was a faithful Indians fan until about a year ago when Alzheimer’s disease started to take hold.
For many years, she worked the 3 p.m.-11 p.m. shift as an emergency room nurse at hospitals in Fostoria and Bowling Green, which meant she always got home late and stayed up into the early hours of the morning.
Many nights, I would give up on the Indians and either go to bed early or go do something else. Even after she retired, she was so used to staying awake, she would regularly watch until the bitter end. Some years, there were a lot of bitter ends.
When they lost, she would always say something like, “Well, they screwed up again.”
If they won, the next day she was always happy to tell me she stayed up to watch, long after I bailed out.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she would say.
Mom was in college at Ohio State in 1948 when the Indians last won the World Series. She remembered how every radio on campus seemed to be tuned to the Indians and classes were cancelled during the games.
It was largely because of her I started watching baseball many years later.
I got interested when I was in fifth grade and our family got cable TV. We could watch the Indians regularly on channel 43.
My mom insisted on watching the games, so I had to watch too. We only had one TV.
In those days, her favorite players were Rick Manning, Von Hayes, and Brook Jacoby.
Mary Jo holding Tess, one of our sister’s many dogs.
My mom never went to a major league game but she always followed on TV or radio. When I was younger, my dad took me to Cleveland Stadium a few times.
My dad enjoyed watching baseball, too, but he typically fell asleep in his chair when the game was on and/or went to bed even before I did.
Especially after my dad died, my mom passed a lot of time watching the Indians during baseball season and the Browns (and also probably every Monday Night Football game ever) during football season.
Early last summer, I called her and she said she hadn’t been paying attention to the Indians that year. I knew something was wrong.
I stayed at her house for a couple of weeks in October to help out as her mind got foggier. I was there during baseball’s divisional series and league championships, so I watched a lot of baseball.
Even though I had games on the TV, she never really noticed, which was very unusual. She always watched the baseball playoffs, usually rooting for players who weren’t famous but who played hard.
She would be enjoying this Indians team, with what seems like a new hero every night.
I’m certain she would love Roberto Perez’s hustle after the first game with Boston, especially the way he tagged up at first to advance to second on a fly ball. I’m also sure she would have loved watching Jose Ramirez all year long.
And, last night, there was Ryan Merritt.
The game didn’t start until 10 p.m. here in Germany, where I live now. I went to bed kind of early and didn’t wake up until 11:30 p.m., 5:30 p.m. back in Ohio.
I came out to the couch and turned on the TV quietly so I didn’t wake up my wife or my three daughters, and started watching the game just as Terry Francona shook Merritt’s hand as he left the mound.
I’m pretty sure my mom would have rooted for Merritt, who was the kind of player she always liked.
For that matter, I’m pretty sure my mom watched the whole game, whether I did or not.
Win or lose, she’ll be watching the World Series, too.
Jefferson Wolfe is currently a Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S. Army stationed in Germany.
In honor of last week’s fiftieth anniversary of the premiere of Star Trek on NBC, here’s a post from exactly two years ago — part two of the series. Thanks to Frank, of course, who continues to delight readers on Facebook!
As Dan pointed out in his intro, we’ve known each other “since before your sun burned hot in space.” Ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, 1990-ish. We hit it off right away, discovering there were a number of interests we shared, but perhaps none as passionate as our mutual love of Star Trek, especially what has become known as “TOS,” – the original series.
Me (left) and Dan Wolfe at Vasquez Rocks near Los Angeles. “Arena” was filmed here.
Now as anyone who knows Dan will tell you, he’s smart. He’s somewhat modest about it, but Dan is a card carrying member of that super brains only club – MENSA. If you’re having a discussion with Dan on just about any topic – but especially one he’s interested in – well, you had better know your stuff. Having met or interviewed many of TOS actors, having written about Trek 5 or 6 times over the last 5 or 6 years for a major news wire, I can say with some confidence Dan and I “reach,” on Star Trek, but more about that “reach” reference later.
Last week, in yet another non-planned but just can’t help it discussion of Trekology, Dan suggested it might be fun as a part his always interesting blog, we pick our ten favorite TOS episodes. Not the 10 most culturally significant – not the ones that casual fans might know – “the one with the tribbles,” or “the one with that famous kiss,” or “the one where Spock did that one thing” but our favorites. The episodes we love. A countdown from 10 to 1, with one guilty pleasure episode – one we love, but hate admitting in public because most of the Trek universe would ask us if we were out of our Vulcan minds to like.
So 10 to 1.
10: Arena.
Gorn captain.
The Gorn episode. I love this episode because it has my favorite Trek space race sequence. After the Gorns have destroyed an Earth outpost and flee the planet, Kirk orders the Enterprise in hot pursuit. The Gorns are at warp 5, so Kirk and crew go to warp 6, the Gorns go to warp 6, the Enterprise goes to warp 7, and so on – two species comparing the size of their warp drives. As the ships race by a certain solar system, a superior race, the Metron’s, step in to put an end to this caveman fight by staging a caveman fight between the 2 ship captains – win and you and your crew survive, lose, you, your ship, and crew are destroyed. High stakes for our Captain. Kirk makes a cannon, brain beats brawn. Kirk displays mercy. Metrons think our species might be worth talking to in several thousand years. And it’s always fun to hiss and talk like a Gorn.
9: Bread and Circuses.
The Roman Empire episode. How can you not be fascinated by the concept of what an Earth would be like if the Roman Empire never fell. A planet wide Empire, in the 20th Century, having ruled for 400 years without war. A boast our planet cannot make. The evolution of slavery as an institution with benefits, televised Gladiator games – just love the idea of this episode! Bring down TV ratings in this empire and you get killed. Just like on our planet. Well, not yet. Kirk gets one last night to be “a man.” Spock and McCoy have a breakthrough in their love/hate relationship. Our hero’s barely escape with their lives just as “the Son” is dawning on a new day for this Rome.
8: Mirror, Mirror.
The Spock has a beard episode. Opposites attract in this one, and Bad Guys Rule. Our good guys, courtesy of a magnetic storm are transported to an opposite universe where the Federation is an Empire, Kirk is a bad guy with ambitions of Cesar-hood, and Spock has that famous goatee – and couldn’t look cooler. Uhura gets to go full sexy. Sulu full villain. Chekov tries to assassinate Kirk, and we are introduced to “The Agonizer.” We get to briefly see our hero’s play the bad-guy versions of themselves – could this be more fun? In this bad-guys-rule universe, Kirk makes Spock invincible, if he’ll only seize the day – to end this reign of terror. Spock as a leader of a revolution? He’ll consider it. And yeah, I’ve got that cool Sword through the Earth logo, as a pin, doesn’t everyone?
7: The Changeling.
The episode that is the better version of Star Trek – The Motion Picture. There are a number of Kirk vs. the computer episodes, but this one is my favorite. Nomad, the probe that’s on a mission to destroy any life form it doesn’t think is perfect (because its brain is broken and it kept all the wrong lessons it learned in life), is all set to destroy the Enterprise first and ask questions later, you know, kind of our first taste of a resistance is futile fate. But Nomad, in its broken brain state – thinks Kirk is its mother. Whew. Mom buys some time. Spock mind-melds with this messed up computer (could it be love), Scotty is killed, Uhura sings, and Kirk gives us a dazzlingly display of logic that even impresses Spock. How often did that happen.
6: Errand of Mercy.
TV Trek audiences meet the Soviets, I mean the Russians, I mean the Klingons, for the first time. Wow. We get a big sense of the geo-political and military reality of this universe that Roddenberry created, and goodness, it looks a lot like our own. Fascinating. There are political rivals, with the military means to challenge our happy Universal Order even in the future. The Klingon’s hate us for our freedoms, and aren’t afraid to take what they think they can get – so war, with a determined foe of equal military prowess, is upon us. Armenia, Belgium, and now Organia – innocents on the natural invasion routes. But a funny thing happens on the road to Universal Armageddon. Don’t you hate it when the sheep won’t let the wolves fight.
5: The Naked Time.
So, there are communicable space viruses, who knew, and if you get this bug, you are stripped naked, emotionally and otherwise. Catch this off a handshake and you get all the worst parts of drunk – and when that happens, people can and will die, because as Scotty tells us, you can’t change the laws of physics. Our leads get a chance to act – and we get to see some of the core traits that will make us love Kirk and Spock forever – a glimpse of their insecurities and what makes them tick at their core. Spock’s emotion is there, controlled, but we learn at an apparent huge cost to his psyche. And when Captain Kirk looks up at his ship, as he’s leaving the conference room and says “Never lose you. Never” – you forever fall in male-bonding like love of the commander that will do whatever it takes to save his ship, his people – you know, true blue medal of honor to the mat mode of existence. This episode will make a little boy want to grow-up and be Captain Kirk. Not to worry parents, he’ll get over it in 70 or 80 years.
4: The Omega Glory.
The American Patriotic episode. Lets face it, Star Trek is the projection of American ideals into the future, period. The Federation is a functioning UN in space, united in concepts of democratic principles, individual liberty, inclusion, tolerance, and rule of law – and lead by America, I mean Earth. “In a world (spoken in best movie promo voice-over voice), where Earth fought THE war with the communists, America lost – the Chinese Communists prevailed.
Kirk reads the Constitution to Cloud William.
But did that war give us the key to immortality? Is that worth destroying a civilization for?” – End movie promo voice-over voice. If you’re an American patriot you love this episode. Kirk reads the preamble to the constitution, and says the pledge of allegiance to the flag – yeah, Kirk gets all “E-ed Plebnista” on us. An American gives back to future Americans the meaning of Americas past, as a way to find America’s future. Did I note that this is the patriotic episode? Sooner or later, America always wins. E-ed Plebnista – Hell Yeah!
3: A Taste of Armageddon.
A taste of Mutually Assured Destruction? War is messy, so why wouldn’t the future of war be all logical and cleaned up. Kind of what the neutron bomb is supposed to be – a society’s culture, civilization, even its buildings, survive – it’s people, well, wrong place at the wrong time, and you head off to the suicide chambers. My favorite war movies are Anti-War movies, and that’s the message of this episode. Let’s not make the “cost” of war so easy to pay that we never bother to stop paying it. With the technology and tactics we use now, this question is more relevant today than ever before. This is a message episode, and I love this message – let’s keep war messy, so that we have an incentive to NOT wage it. We learn that the Federation has a “destroy the planet” order – General Order 24 – Capital Punishment on a world wide scale. And Kirk reminds us of our truth – we’re killers, but we can choose not to kill, today. This episode is one of the finest moment in all of Trek.
2: The Doomsday Machine.
The Doomsday Machine
This episode isn’t a taste of mutually assured destruction – it’s a huge helping of it, with seconds. Star Trek loves Melville, versions of Captain Ahab pop up all the time – including into the feature films. But Commodore Decker might be my favorite. And this is one of the few episodes where the lead guest star’s (William Windom) performance stands toe to toe with our regulars. A past civilization, from a neighboring galaxy, used its “H Bomb,” and it did what any Doomsday Machine would do – it not only killed the enemy, but also, the beings that used it. Only this civilizations weapon, as long as it has planets to destroy and consume, has no off switch –and now it has wandered into our galaxy burning a path through the Milky Way’s most densely populated section. Thanks neighbors. A broken transporter, a ticking clock, Spock relieved of command, Kirk defies his superior officer. Wonderful acting, great story, tension, suspense – this episode still works on every level.
1: The City on the Edge of Forever.
Before the Guardians of the Galaxy, there was The Guardian of Forever. Machine or Being? Both and Neither. To this day, one of the most fascinating characters in the entire Trek Universe – and on screen, we only see him/it here, and in the animated series episode “Yesteryear.”
This episode regularly ranks as the fans favorite. And yes, for me too. “City” has every element of what makes Star Trek great. A big story – a story that effects all human-kind, the course of Earth’s history, the history of the universe. Do the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one?
Edith Keeler and Jim Kirk in “City on the Edge of Forever”
The first time Star Trek, in so many words, gives us this quandary. FDR, Hitler, WW2, depression era New York, how to explain a Vulcan’s ears to someone that has never seen them before – it’s all here. A love interest for Kirk that is lost in time. It is the best of all the time change episodes, period. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy all have their moments, all true to character, but Shatner in all his wonder, delivers here – yes, I mean on the acting part. Does Kirk know what he just did? Yeah, he knows. The City on the Edge of Forever is quite simply Star Trek at its finest.
Guilty Pleasure: The Way to Eden.
This is the Space Hippies episode. Yes, I admit, this is a bad episode, but like watching an act in a French circus, you’re kind of disgusted at what they look like and appear to be doing but you can’t look away. Lots to not like here – including some of the weirdest looking alien ears in all of Trek – and that’s saying something. We do see Spock rock out, a pretty girl play the spokes of bicycle wheel, a flipped screen shot that for a brief second puts Kirk’s insignia on the wrong side of his chest, and of course we find out that to be called a “Herbert” is a bad thing. Idealistic youth corrupted and mislead by an evil man, in pursuit of a crazy idea – find Eden. The one take away I have for this episode, and why it’s still pops up in my mind is the idea of “reach.” I mentioned this at the top of this far too long list, as to the fact that Dan and I “reach” on Star Trek. The Space Hippies use this as a kind of bonding phrase, if you and someone else understand a subject, a thing, an idea, in the same way – a way that is deeper than just logically, but goes to who you are – then you “reach.”
Dan and I, and millions of people all around the world, “reach” on Star Trek.
Dan writing here: Frank’s too modest to post his work for Reuters here, so I will since I can. In my opinion, Frank’s the definitive authority on TOS and I should publicly thank him for correcting an error in fact on my post yesterday. Well played, sir! Well played!