“He is not Spock,” she said-an inside Trekkie joke (Nimoy wrote two autobiographies, entitled I Am Not Spock and I Am Spock.) “Mom, stop fangirl-ing,” my daughter laughed, as I rubbernecked at a very tall man with a preternatural resemblance to the original series’ most famous Vulcan. For, truth be told, I’m kind of a Trekkie, too.
She looked so grown up and Starfleet chic, I got a bit of lump in my throat. “First time?” Trekkies asked with affectionate smiles, allowing her to check out their blinky tricorders and snazzy phasers. She was dressed in a red communications officer’s outfit-the one worn by Uhura-and black boots. “My people,” my daughter said, looking around with sparkling eyes. “Think about it, human,” she said), pointy-eared Vulcans and dragon-headed Gorns, and, of course, many human beings dressed in stylish Starfleet uniforms, a sea of red, gold, powder blue, and black. There were blue-horned Andorians and big-snouted Ferengis (“How do you spell Ferengi?” I asked one. The place had been taken over by the nearly 5,000 Trekkies-or Trekkers, as some prefer to be called-who had convened from all over the planet. The Official Star Trek 2015 Convention took place August 6 through 9 at the Rio Las Vegas hotel and casino, a mirrored monolith with red and blue stripes that looks like a robot monster out of Star Trek, rearing up against the desert mountains. (She’s now 15.) “I cried a little.” And so I thought, this year, it would be nice to take her to a Star Trek convention.
“Spock died,” I told her gently in February, after hearing that Leonard Nimoy had passed away at 83.
And then there was her first celebrity crush, Mr.
“Mommy,” she told me, “I want to fly on that ship.” Over the years she has shown an interest in learning Vulcan calligraphy and watching Klingon opera on YouTube. It all started when she was eight and saw an episode of Star Trek for the first time.
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