It's been said that life is full of surprises.
Despite what naysayers would have you believe, we're not meant to understand all of it -- the "it" there being "life itself." Simply put, life is. It just is. It is what you make of it. It is what you put into it. It is what you get out of it. Any meaning we get from it along the way is entirely dependent upon what we choose to attribute there in that moment, whether it be happy, sad, or numb.
I can remember being a little boy -- back in the glory days of extreme youth. It's a singular scene in my mind's eye. I don't recall exactly where I was -- my parents I believe had taken me over to a friend's house, and I think I was being deposited there on the living room floor as the adults were going out, or maybe they were going to play cards in the kitchen or some other such adult activity with adult beverages. Like I said, I was plopped down on the carpet, and I distinctly remember that the television was on.
Something there caught my eye.
Given my age -- what was I? Three? Maybe four years old? -- I know even now that what I saw didn't quite make perfect sense to that young brain in my head. Still, it's an image that's stuck with me for years. I've always wanted to write something on it, but it didn't seem relevant until today.
Anyway, there was this "man" on the TV set. He was pale, but he didn't look sick. He had stern eyes. He had dark hair.
And he had these ... ears.
Yes, I was young, but I knew that these ears weren't right. Clearly, they didn't match what I'd seen on others, those around me, those in my family, and those whom I played with. Those ears told me this fellow was different, that this fellow wasn't the same as you and me even though he looked otherwise like he should be. Those ears drew me closer to this character -- the Vulcan named Spock -- and I've always been mystified how something so simple as a pair of pointed ears could signify so much to those who watched.
The New York Times has reported that Leonard Nimoy -- the man who brought Spock to life -- surrendered his mortal coil earlier today. Drudge has let the story slip, so I'm guessing that's as good as confirmation as anything on the World Wide Web.
Rather than regret his passing -- sad though it may be -- I encourage Trek enthusiasts everywhere to somehow celebrate his life today.
In the very least, it's what Spock would want.
Despite what naysayers would have you believe, we're not meant to understand all of it -- the "it" there being "life itself." Simply put, life is. It just is. It is what you make of it. It is what you put into it. It is what you get out of it. Any meaning we get from it along the way is entirely dependent upon what we choose to attribute there in that moment, whether it be happy, sad, or numb.
I can remember being a little boy -- back in the glory days of extreme youth. It's a singular scene in my mind's eye. I don't recall exactly where I was -- my parents I believe had taken me over to a friend's house, and I think I was being deposited there on the living room floor as the adults were going out, or maybe they were going to play cards in the kitchen or some other such adult activity with adult beverages. Like I said, I was plopped down on the carpet, and I distinctly remember that the television was on.
Something there caught my eye.
Given my age -- what was I? Three? Maybe four years old? -- I know even now that what I saw didn't quite make perfect sense to that young brain in my head. Still, it's an image that's stuck with me for years. I've always wanted to write something on it, but it didn't seem relevant until today.
Anyway, there was this "man" on the TV set. He was pale, but he didn't look sick. He had stern eyes. He had dark hair.
And he had these ... ears.
Yes, I was young, but I knew that these ears weren't right. Clearly, they didn't match what I'd seen on others, those around me, those in my family, and those whom I played with. Those ears told me this fellow was different, that this fellow wasn't the same as you and me even though he looked otherwise like he should be. Those ears drew me closer to this character -- the Vulcan named Spock -- and I've always been mystified how something so simple as a pair of pointed ears could signify so much to those who watched.
The New York Times has reported that Leonard Nimoy -- the man who brought Spock to life -- surrendered his mortal coil earlier today. Drudge has let the story slip, so I'm guessing that's as good as confirmation as anything on the World Wide Web.
Rather than regret his passing -- sad though it may be -- I encourage Trek enthusiasts everywhere to somehow celebrate his life today.
In the very least, it's what Spock would want.
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