When I was about six-years-old
our family adopted a new dog named Blue. Blue’s previous owner seemed a strange
man. He claimed blue was the dog’s favorite color and that “Star Trek” was his
favorite show. I don’t believe I’d ever heard of a dog having a favorite
television show before. In fact, dogs hardly seem to even notice the TV in my
experience. But hey! We were open-minded people. On his first night with us,
Blue was a nervous wreck, so at 7 p.m., when syndicated shows began in our
area, we turned the TV to “Star Trek” to see if the dog responded. The dog didn’t
even notice the television was on, but “Star Trek” somehow became one of the
shows that ended up playing in our house on a regular basis. And no, that dog
never sat down and watched with us.
We were never what would be
described as Trekkies, or Trekkers, as it were. We just kind of watched it if
we happened to stumble upon it while flipping through the channels. I remember
when it switched from early evening syndication to late afternoon. The release
of the first movie was kind of a big deal for my brother and I. We were
disappointed with its slow pace like so many others—although later in life, I
would come to appreciate what Robert Wise was striving to achieve.


















