Celebrating Leonard Nimoy and Spock, and comedian Felipe Esparza

My story started when we crossed the border when I was six or five. From Sinaloa, Mexico. My father, he came to America first, started another family, then came and got us. (Laughing) That’s part of my comedy routine. I did a lot of translating for my parents like most immigrant kids.  I would go to the hospital and translate for the doctor and they would tell me things like, "Tell your father he has back spasms." And I’m like third grade. I never heard back spasms in Spanish or English. So I would translate English the way I saw white people do it. You know, the way I saw my teacher do it. The way I saw the white police man do it – just add an “O” after every English word. "Papa, tienes backo spasmo." And the doctor would look at me and he would go, "That’s pretty good, kiddo."

Because I find it funny. And I could relate to it, being an immigrant myself.  And I like saying it, you know, because not a lot of people talk about it, so I want to talk about. Some kids had their birthday party at McDonald’s, Chuck-e-Cheese’s. I had mine at the snack bar at Kmart. I got a lot of gifts ... but I had to put them all back. "Hey, hey, hey. Mijo, mijo, you get that toy in three months. Esta layway, c----n.”

The next day I’m walking around with blood on my shirt. There’s blood on my shoes. I don’t know what to do. So I’m walking around with a loaded pistol now for like a week because I’m scared there’s going to be retribution for what happened. So my mom -- you know how most Catholic moms are – they pray and thank God for everything.



So, Father Greg Boyle comes to my house. And he goes, "I heard you got into a lot of trouble. What are you going to do?' And I said, “Well, I ain’t going to run. I’m right here. They know where I live.” He said, "That’s what your mom told me. Maybe you need a break." I said, “Break. Where am I going to go? I’m not the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. We have a long talk and we sit and pray and then I decided to go to rehab. I was 21.



So, I’m there for about a year and I finally get out. I get out on a break and I go back … first person I see is the guy who I beat up. And he wants to revenge. And he started walking towards me, in front of me and my mom. And I just came from church. I’m just ignoring him. And I turned my back to him and I shouldn’t have done that, and he just kicks the Bible off of my hand. And he goes, “You think I’m going to stop just because your f------ mom is here. And I go, “I’m going to f--- you up right now. We’re going to fight!”



Then, I just … I thought about it – and it’s always sad because … I really wanted to go kill this guy, man … I really, really! … wanted to just end it all right there and just … But I cried, instead, which made things worse. “You gonna cry you, pussy!” So, I just went inside; I grabbed this big as bat and I just – I just rushed outside.



And my Dad with all his might, he just hold me. Hold me. And the more he hold me, the more I cried; the more I cried. And I could just hear this guy … Seeehhheee, man. I just didn’t not go outside … and um, … my Dad just … he ended up taking me back to the rehab that day and then, I couldn’t go back home.

And I said, “Umm, do you mean like goals?” “Yeah, like goals. What were your goals?  Well, I never really had goals. I never thought about being anything but a comedian. Write that, number one: comedian. And then it goes easy! Then, I was like happy! But like happy tears come out of my eyes. The second one was to be happy. Easy. The third one: I always liked Olive Garden. I wanted to go Italy, not just taste it. And then four and five, I couldn’t think anymore. I was too excited about the first one. So what I would do, I would bring in all the homies from my neighborhood where I lived, you know, and they would give me a ride. I had an audience and I made them laugh and it felt good, man.



I want Latinos to laugh the hardest at my jokes. I want white people to laugh, too, but I don’t want them to laugh as hard as Latinos do.

If Fesenmeyer had suffered a spinal cord injury prior to World War II, he likely would have died either from the trauma itself or from infection. The few paraplegics who survived in those days were shunted off to hospitals and ordered to remain flat on their backs. Then came penicillin and improved surgical techniques, both of which vastly increased the survival rate of the severely wounded. And long-term treatment began to change, too—albeit not right away. After peace was declared and Fesenmeyer was brought stateside, he landed at the U.S. Naval Hospital Corona in the Riverside County town of Norco, some 50 miles east of downtown. “In the beginning they didn’t know how to take care of us,” he says. “They believed if you had a spinal injury, you weren’t supposed to get out of bed for a year. I laid in that goddamn bed just rotting away.”



That scenario was changing, though. Doctors were developing a revolutionary, if counterintuitive, way to rehabilitate paralyzed vets: through exercise and, in particular, wheelchair basketball. The sport was born in Southern California and later helped launch the Paralympic Games, which celebrate their 56th year this September in Rio. Fesenmeyer was among the pioneers. At 90, he’s the last surviving member of the Rolling Devils, one of the first organized sports teams for disabled athletes. The Devils sold out arenas and transformed not only the public’s perception of paraplegics but paraplegics’ perceptions of themselves.



-- David Davis, Los Angeles Magazine

“There were a lot of ups and downs in our lives together. There was a period of estrangement that I talk about in the film from him. It was very difficult as a young boy growing up to get my dad's attention. I could not even be in public with dad without him being mobbed. The fact of the matter is, through recovery work - both of us individually - 12-step work - we were able to reconnect with one another and let go of some of the wreckage of the past."

“There was a period where he was trying to prove he could do more, that he wasn’t only just Spock, but I think he always embraced the character. I think Spock is somebody - particularly later in his life - that he was very comfortable and very proud to have been connected with.”

“We interviewed most – if not all -- of the new cast members and they were very reverential and very loving about my dad.  They were very grateful to have his involvement in these new incarnations of Star Trek.  They felt that even though he was gone his spirit was very much alive. It was overwhelming to get that feedback and very heartwarming.”

“It’s an incredible letter, and the strange thing is I didn’t know it existed till last December just before we were about to shoot some interviews. I found the letter a couple days before and I discussed it with my partners and other producers. And we decided we were going to film me reading that letter. I hadn’t opened it since 1973 when he gave it to me. He was acknowledging that we had these issues, and some of the responsibility for it.  It was heartening to me, but it was important to the film because I talk about the problems we had, but I don’t have him to comment on them. And then this letter appeared where he is commenting on them. It gives a whole other perspective on what was going on between the two of us.”

“It was surprising and shocking for my family. We knew there was Spock fans out there but the magnitude of the reaction was overwhelming – I mean the President released a press release about his love of Spock. It’s amazing what he accomplished with that role, and what Spock means to people. [Spock] was a reflection of who we are as humans, even though he was only half human. And a reflection of what we aspire to be as human beings.”

Rabe: "Were any of your fears realized?"



Takei: "As a matter of fact, my fear was losing my career, the reverse happened. My career blossomed!"

'I was in college. I was just this geeky, skinny, gangly, college student with no social skills. I was a big science fiction fan, and I said to myself, "They've got to do their science fiction right," so I sat down and wrote an outline for them. Gene L. Coon said, "We're gonna buy your story, but we'll give you a chance to write the treatment." ... "Next thing I knew, the whole thing had gone through and they were shooting an episode.' -- David Gerrold

You know, this area of town really reminded me of when I was first in New York, in the late 1960s and early 1970s. SoHo was sort of just happening. They had these spaces that were great but were weird when you went inside.

What's really special about this new high-tech release is the chance to re-experience, more intimately and up-close than ever before, the performances of one of the finest casts of actors ever assembled. Ensembled. Whatever. There were a bunch of them, led by Shakespearean-trained Patrick Stewart, and despite their reputation as the more sedate Star Trek generation, these guys were chewing up the scenery and spitting out technobabble with faith and earnest and a bellyfull of investment.



Remember, they were acting through all the same technological limitations that made the special effects look so muddy once upon a time. And now ... finally ... we can see it all.



First, Jonathan Frakes is not a stiff! Poor old Commander Riker had this reputation as the statue that stood at Picard's right hand and dumbed-down the technobabble. And that was a big part of his job. To be the third guy to say the same thing in a scene. But it turns out that Will Riker was positively smoldering all the time. Oh! Watch his eyes! Anytime he is slighted, his captain is slighted, or if anyone looks askance at Counselor Troi, just watch him flash and flare! Don't forget, the man honed his craft in soap operas!