Oh Captain! My Captain!

"Art is not a luxury - it is a vital expression of our identity and a testament to life's meaning."  - Sir Patrick Stewart (Oxford Union Address)

"Never doubt the capacity of art to bring about moments of profound emotion and reflection." - Sir Patrick Stewart, from Making it So: A Memoir.

I've been trying to put into words how I feel about the passing of Sir Patrick Stewart.  I didn't work with him, I didn't even know him personally and yet I am incredibly sad about his death.  I think it's because he was such a large part of my childhood.  

Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered in September 1987.  I would have been 9 years old and I honestly didn't watch it.  Not because I didn't want to, but because my parents didn't really let me watch much TV.  We only had one TV; it was in the family room, which was right next to my Mom's piano studio.  At that age, my Dad would let me rent movies on the weekends, and I was more concerned about what movie I was going to watch than watching TV.  Also, I primarily watched Nickelodeon at that time. If there was any Star Trek on, it was typically the original animated series.  

It wasn't that Star Trek wasn't on my radar.  I had seen the movies (to this day I still find the first one boring and the 4th one is probably my favorite - Spock saying "double dumbass" will live free in my mind forever) and I was a fan, but it wasn't until we moved to Mishawaka after my parents' divorce that I started watching Next Gen.  Once I did, I was hooked, and it was my absolute favorite. 

Saturday evenings started for me in front of the TV, with Patrick Stewart's voice inviting me into another world: "Space, the final frontier..." Captain Jean-Luc Picard, inviting me to boldly go to another planet, seek out new life and new civilizations.  For an hour, I would completely disappear into a new world and know (unless it was a season finale and I might get stuck on a cliffhanger that wouldn't get resolved for several months while the show was on hiatus, unlike the several years that go by now) that all would be well in the end.  

I became a full-fledged Trekkie.  I went to conventions; I had a Starfleet uniform (which I gave myself the rank of Lt. Commander, because I thought being a commander or captain at my age would not be realistic - that should have been an autism diagnosis right there), I had a phaser, a tricorder, and wore a Bajoran earring.  Two of my most prized possessions are the Star Trek cards of Counselor Troi and Lt. Worf that I had signed at one of the conventions I went to.  The Police's "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" will forever be associated with Counselor Troi-slash-Marina Sirtis.  I never had the opportunity to see Patrick Stewart at a convention.  

When TNG hit syndication, it was on just after I got home on weekdays.  I would sneak down to the basement, where our TV was, and watch while my Mom was giving piano lessons.  I began to write fanfiction stories about myself and my friends, where I was the captain of a starship, and they were the crew.  We had our own missions, and stories generally ended up somewhere between a cross of Star Trek and Monty Python.  They were... I want to say incredibly silly. 

I feel like the Universe is a little bit darker today, but I'm choosing to look at this as the Captain has gone to explore a new part of the universe.  I don't know if I believe in life after death, but if there is I hope that it is pure good.