The Benefits & Downsides of Being One-Track-Minded (x 3)

It will come as no surprise to anyone who has followed this blog (or my liife story) to learn that I’ve been one-track-minded for most of my life when it comes to three different interests/pursuits:  animals,  writing, and DeForest Kelley/ST:TOS.

 

I’ve spent literally decades “majoring” in these self-selected “disciplines.” As a result, there is a paper trail that is (literally) multiple millions of words long to show I took hold of these interests the way a hungry dog takes hold of a meaty bone: with the fervor of a true zealot.

 

And it all worked out wonderfully well, much to my surprise and delight, proving the old adage “dedicated persistence pays off.”

 

“You never know what’s around the corner. It could be everything. Or it could be nothing. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you’ve climbed a mountain.”
― Tom Hiddleston

 

And then… always… as we age… we look back on the “could have beens” and “might have beens” and wonder if we spent our lives on the “right” things… or if there were other things that would have given us even greater joy or greater fame, or whatever it is that floats our egotistical or philosophical boats…

 

I’ve also been interested in politics. One of the numerology tests I took back in the day stated that I could become the first woman President.

 

The only trouble with that, in  my view, was the general opinion of politicians is that “they’re all on the take, every last one; there isn’t a good one in the bunch…” and that dissuaded me from going that route!  I didn’t want to be regarded in that way.  Even the politicians I respected were written off in that way.

 

It’s heartbreaking because, in all too many cases, it’s true. True statesmen/women are rare in this world. Most people who seek that kind of power can’t be trusted, and even those who can be usually aren’t.  The moment we find a single area of disagreement, we bristle and snap, “There they go…selling out to the dark side!”

 

There’s always somebody to claim that the Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasion-Cortezs and George McGoverns and Jimmy Carters and Robert F. Kennedys of the world are as untrustworthy as the Mitch McConnells and Donald Trumps of the world.

 

So, politics was out for me as a profession, even though Hubert Humphrey, the Happy Warrior, said, “If you don’t like what’s going on in Washington D.C., run for office and help change it!”

 

But there were other, equally shiny interests and pursuits that I didn’t follow up on.

 

When I was in high school, I won an art contest (drew a black and white picture of Jerry Lewis up close) and was awarded a two-week art course at Eastern Washington State College in Cheney.  I bunked there with four other gals who had won various scholarships for two-week courses.

 

I did some amazing art work during those two weeks but the memory that sticks with me most clearly was that I struck up a friendship with one of my roommates who wanted to get into radio and tv. She had won the contest for becoming an announcer/radio host on the college radio station.

 

The first time she was scheduled to host the program, she was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. She asked me to come along to help steady her nerves. Excited at the prospect of sitting inside a radio station, I eagerly agreed.

 

The problem was, the moment the red light came on, letting her know we were live and she was on the air, she panicked and went absolutely silent. I saw her terror and I got scared, too.

 

She shoved a paper in front of me and indicated that I should read it…aloud…right now!  I looked down and read the first few lines. It was a several months’ old news report of “last night’s Academy Awards.”

 

I said something like , “All righty, then! Here’s a blast from the past. At last night’s Academy Awards ceremony, Julie Andrews won Best Actress in….”  and off I went, running down the list of the main award winners.  By the time I finished reading the piece, my friend had found her voice and equilibrium (since I came across as so calm, collected and in control) and took it from there…

 

As soon as our time “live” was over, the professor who taught TV and Radio at Cheney called in to say hello,  and to ask, “Who read the Academy Awards news?”  When she told her it was me–an art contest winner–he said, “Well, tell her she did a wonderful, wonderful job.”  When she told me, my first thought was, “Shit, I hope he told her the same thing about her voice work. Otherwise… ouch!”

 

Another time, when I was working at Sony-Tristar Pictures as a floating secretary, I was temping for a producer as a secretary when their casting director looked into the room I was in and motioned me out into the hall. She whispered, “One of the voice actors who is supposed to be here right now to do her work can’t make it. I want you to do a quick voiceover for me.”

 

I was horrified!  I asked, “Me?! Why?!”

 

She said, “Because I know you can do it.”

 

I said, “You do? How?”

 

She said, “Because every time I walk by this office there’s a different voice coming out of it, and every time, it’s YOU!”

 

Gulp!  (Shee-yit!)

 

So I followed her to a sound stage where there were four other voice actors ready to roll and a sound booth full of sound technicians.  The woman who had recruited me gave me the line I was to say (just one line, thank God!) and I gamely read it at the right time.

 

Unfortunately, she hadn’t given me the attitude with which to deliver it, so I was quickly advised, “Don’t say it as if you really mean in. Say it as if you don’t really mean it but have to say it. Say it grudgingly.”

 

“All right.”

 

On take two,   “That’s wonderful! Congratulations!!” became  “That’s…wonderful… congratulations…”

 

“It’s a wrap.”

 

As I prepared to leave, one of the guys in  the booth said, “You should do this for a living. You take direction like a dream.”

 

The casting director agreed. So I took months of voiceover lessons!  And then did nothing with them, even though I had an absolute blast.

 

And then, of course, there was the time I wrote a stand-up comedy routine called “Husband Hunting on the Enterprise” lusting after Doctor McCoy for an Oakland Creation Convention and found out that Carolyn and De would be there to hear/see it before De came on. Carolyn would be in the audience and De would be back stage.

 

I was a freaking nervous wreck. Even though I had sent them the routine and received their approval to deliver it as written, it seemed to me the height of nuts to be “lusting” after Mr. Kelley’s alter ego for four or five minutes with his beloved wife sitting in the audience and “Dr. McCoy” himself standing backstage. I was wearing cowboy boots and was so nervous that my upper legs were rattling against the top of my boots for most of the time I was up there. It was a nightmare. (But when I saw it later on videotape I looked calm and pretty much in control. My friends in the front row said I didn’t look nervous at all. So, where’s my Oakland Tony award?)

 

As soon as De’s appearance ended that day, Carolyn told me I did a great job and looked like I had been doing standup for ten years. I thought she was just being kind.

 

But then a TV host from a studio in San Francisco came to me and asked if I would come to his studio and do the routine again for his sudience. I balked, saying,”Oh, this would never go over in a general studio audience. It’s strictly Star Trek related.” He said, “Let me worry about that. I’ll get you the right audience. Will you do it?”

 

My flight home to Washington was scheduled for that evening and I didn’t even think to ask if he’d be amenable to paying for a flight change and a hotel room for me. I just said, “Oh, no, I can’t do that. I have a friend flying with me to Washington tonight–”

 

He took his business card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “All right. If you ever get back this way, call me. I want you to do this.”

 

I thanked him and stared at the card for quite a while…

 

Stand-up comedy. The scariest, most wonderful form of entertainment (when it works); perdition, when it fails.  Did I have the guts?

 

I had the inclination, the interest, and the invitation… but I didn’t have the guts.

 

So, I ended up with the life I’ve lived. Not a bad outcome.

 

And whenever I start to feel sad for not having taken up radio/voiceover/standup I just recall the time when DeForest Kelley himself was waxing poetic (and it seemed a little regretfully) about the time he had a chance to get in on the ground floor of Hamburger Hamlet (a hugely successful restaurant in Southern California) founded by a friend.

 

When he said, “We could have been multi-millionaires decades ago if I’d handed over just about the only $200 we had at the time,” I looked at him and couldn’t help but say, pseudo-sadly, “Awww, gee!  What a shame… We just missed knowing you as Colonel Kelley’s Kentucky Fried Hamburgers!”

 

He didn’t laugh.  I thought it was hysterical that he’d be regretting part-ownership in a hamburger joint when he had just earned his first million plus for a Star Trek movie and had the undying affection of millions of Star Trek fans.

 

To me, he had done quite all right for himself and his wife, given the craft he decided to pursue.

 

So, his story puts my own in perspective. I’m happy with the way things turned out. Since I have no idea where the other pursuits would have led and landed me, I really have nothing to compare where I am now to where I’d be if I had gone another route.

 

Would being better known and richer have made me any happier? I very much doubt it. I’m an introvert. That’s why writing has always appealed to me. “Writing is show business for shy people.”

 

Most performers are stressed out.  Too many use drugs or alcohol to deal with the feast-or-famine nature of the business. Some end up committing suicide. It’s a high-stakes, high-blood pressure kind of existence.

 

That’s just not my style.

 

I guess the bottom line, here–if there is one–is to settle on goals that will give you the most joy and pleasure even as you’re pursuing them.  That way, even if you don’t reach the brass ring (although you probably will if you’re as persistent as I was!), you won’t feel like the time you spent going after it was a waste of your life.