The Steussy Ranch

Leonard Nimoy died yesterday. This was not unexpected. During the past two or three years, he has appeared intermittently on some of my favorite television shows (Fringe). He was clearly not well. Further, the series actually changed to an animated format at times to accommodate Nimoy, who was able to add his voice but not his presence. 83 … he lived long … and prospered.

I’ve written here before of the deaths of some of my childhood idols. Arthur C. Clarke comes to mind. His loss, and Isaac Asimov’s before that, shook my world. When Asimov passed away, I was attending my first trade show, working as a businessman. I actually cried, thinking that I had betrayed him for not becoming a scientist (a profession that I would have done well at, but which would have left me unhappy and unfulfilled).

Nimoy undoubtedly has a hold on parts of my psyche. He was an earlier influence than either of the authors I mentioned. I first saw Nimoy playing Spock when I was perhaps three or four years old. And I am old enough to remember watching the first runs of a few of the later episodes in 1968 and 1969 (Dark Shadows was the TV show that followed Star Trek’s prime time place that year).

But it is not Nimoy that I am attached to. It is Spock. There is a part of me that is Spock, consciously or unconsciously modelling myself after the intelligent, emotionless Vulcan. God, he was great. But I am aware that Spock is a creation of Gene Roddenberry, Harlan Ellison and Jerome Bixby, among other writers. Nimoy only put flesh to other people’s creations.

As such, I am not so struck at Nimoy’s death. He was a fine actor and a good man. He filled out the role that was written for him very well and, toward the end of this life, embraced that role as part of his own personality.

That said, I will be playing at least a little of the computer game Civilization IV later today. Spock’s resonant voice still speaks to my inner child as he takes me through the discoveries of agriculture, bronze working or the building of the pyramids. I know, without a doubt, I played an extra one hundred hours or more of this game just to be able to hear his voice.

Rest in peace, Mr. Nimoy. You’ve given the world, and me, great gifts. Your influence is great. Live long and prosper, each and every one of us.