For the love and laughter.
Thanks to Jason Sloane, Russell Galen, and Brian DeFiore for opening the door;
To Larry McCallister and Harry Lang, for providing images;
To Cyndi Mladinov, for managing my schedule, reading my writing, and controlling the madness;
And to Jeanne (J. M.) Dillard, for her extraordinary talent, tact, and taste.
SURAK PLAZA, NUMBER ONE, SHIKAHH VULCAN, 43, ERIDANI STARSYSTEM
Mr. Leonard Nimoy
C/0 Hyperion Publishers
New York NY 10011, Earth, Sol Starsystem
Dear Mr. Nimoy:
I write this note in response to yours, which asks: “Would you consider writing a foreword to my new book?”
This book, you inform me, contains the saga of your experiences in your various capacities as actor, writer, director, and producer of Star Trek stories. It is to be called I Am Spock.
I must admit to some degree of confusion. By all accounts, I am in full possession of my memory-and I distinctly recall the title of your previous book on the above subject. It was, in fact, entitled I Am Not Spock, which seemed both logical and accurate-since, indeed, you are not Spock, and I have always believed and shall continue to believe that Iam. To indulge in a human colloquialism: Have you lost your small glass gaming spheres?
HUMAN VERSUS VULCAN
Or Of Luck and Probability
LET’S OPEN THIS BOOK with a couple of shattering confessions right up front:
1. I talk to myself; and
2. I hear voices in my head.
Or rather, I sometimes talk to an aspect of myself, and I often hear one specific voice replying in my head-a very calm, very rational voice, one I suspect many of you are familiar with. And if you were to listen in on the silent conversation taking place in my head at this very moment, you might hear the following exchange:
NIMOY: Spock, do you have any idea how lucky we are to
have each other?
SPOCK: I do not believe in “luck.” I believe every event is statistically predictable.
NIMOY: Really? So-at the moment I was born, what were the chances that I would grow up, go to Hollywood, meet Gene Roddenberry, and become famous as a green-blooded, pointy-eared alien from outer space?
SPOCK: At the moment of your birth? Approximately 789,324,476.76 to 1.
NIMOY: Aha! You see? It was luck, after all! The odds were against it!
SPOCK: Hardly. Because with each passing moment of your life, one event precipitated another, which made each subsequent occurrence more probable. For example, by moving from Boston to Los Angeles and working hard to perfect your craft, you increased your chances of a successful acting career by a substantial margin, from 1,726,534.2 to 1, to 351,233.82 to I-just as, by attending Starfleet Academy, I increased my chances of serving aboard the Enterprise. As your own Miguel de Cervantes said, “Diligence is the mother of good fortune.”
NIMOY: Yes, but even once I got to Hollywood, what were the chances I’d play a space alien-from the planet Vulcan?
SPOCK: (small sigh) Approximately 3,400,679,929.936 to 1 . . .
NIMOY: I rest my case!
As I write these words about fortune and statistics, I’m sitting on a plane bound for Florida, with pen in hand and yellow legal pad balanced on one knee. And I can’t help thinking that I’m one lucky guy. You see, I’m on my way to speak at a Star Trek convention, where I will be greeted with an incredible outpouring of affection and warmth.
And earlier this morning at the airport when I stepped from the car, the sidewalk baggage handler recognized me at once and gave me a broad smile. “Good morning, Mr. Nimoy.