...The more they stay the same

PANAMA CITY BEACH — As of the end of June, I have now been at this job (or at least, employed in various jobs at this newsroom) for 21 years. The same week, my first child turned 26. This is the only job he remembers me ever having.

I thought about that a bit, picturing the me of 21 years ago rolling into town. I had more hair, fewer wrinkles, less debt, and lived in a state of blissful ignorance about the longevity of my heart, much less the trajectory of this thing that (in retrospect) I have to call a “career.”

But that train of thought, once it left the station, started me looking back at how things have changed around here in the past couple of decades. (That’s right: Now that I’m an old man, you may have to endure the occasional “back in my day” trips down the rabbit hole.)

In 1993, we still used a walkie-talkie style radio to keep in touch with reporters in the field. Production included wax paste-up of columns before pages were photographed for conversion to negatives that were used to — You know what? Never mind.

Photographers used film, and the photo lab always smelled of chemicals. Graphic artists used colored acetate sheets to create color effects, requiring multiple negative sheets — er, never mind.

And yet, most photos and art were printed in black-and-white. When I started posting our old photos to the website some years ago, like the one of Sir Loin, people complained that I was turning color photos to black-and-white to make them seem more “vintage.” Nope. That’s how they were originally printed.

Local schools had newspapers. Students came to this office to do physical layout work.
I carried a beeper, and when it went off, I had to locate a pay phone or public phone to check in. Only rich people had car phones or those “cell phones” with the big battery backpacks.

In 1994, I covered a Gulf Coast (then-Community) College meeting in which Professor Joe Howell described the highlights of the so-called “Internet” database system and the advantages access would give to faculty and students in the future.

“In less than a minute, he had at his fingertips computer files in Iowa, Sweden and Asia — including professional journals, research information, job listings, electronic mailboxes and computer bulletin boards,” the report said. “There was even a file on ‘UFO and Alien Information’ — although he quickly skipped past it.”

There was no indication that morning of how such a simple file transfer system would evolve and change the world — much less the news business. By 1995, there was a debate over whether we needed Internet access in the newsroom; that year, I signed up for my personal email and was among the first reporters to list an email at the bottom of his stories.

In 2006, I became the newsroom’s first Online Editor. In 2011, when I moved over to PanamaCity.com, a fellow named Brady Calhoun became the online editor; he first showed up in this newsroom in 1995 as a student intern from Rutherford High School that I was assigned to supervise.

He had more hair, fewer wrinkles, and lived in a state of blissful ignorance about the trajectory of his newspaper career.

The more things change… You know the rest.

Peace.
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(This is my Undercurrents column for The News Herald and PanamaCity.com for July 4.)

Under the moon and the Milky Way

Photo by Andrew Wardlow

PANAMA CITY BEACH — Walking under a full moon last weekend, I listened to oak limbs creaking, the hiss of leaves shuffling in a breeze, and tried to convince myself there was more happening in the dark.

That the trees were shifting to keep an eye on me as I walked. That something lurked unseen among the limbs or in the utter blackness under the gnarled branches.

It didn’t work.

I know the woods around my house, sparse as they are, host foxes, deer, rabbits and coyotes, snakes and squirrels and other beasties. I have seen a hawk glide over the trees, and a large horned owl perched atop a pine, and I have heard the call of a lonely whippoorwill in the night.

But I have not felt the chill of fright on those empty streets, walking under the vast open dome of the Milky Way, or seeing the landscape light up in shades of blue as clouds parted for the moon. I have not feared the unseen creatures in the wild, or even the ones in my over-active imagination.

I wasn’t always so assured in the night. As a child, I hated going into my back yard after sunset. My family lived on the southern boundary of a small town, with a few acres of woodland surrounding the house. I was convinced something supernatural and predatory walked behind the fence at night; I heard it moving when I went out to feed our dog, or on evenings Mom asked me to bring in laundry from the clothesline.

It followed me on nighttime walks with my older cousins near my grandparents’ home. Or so they would tell me, weaving ghost stories and legends as the moon trailed us in the sky and noises carried from the trees lining the road.

It lurked on the corner, just outside the cone of light from the street lamp. It hid in the bushes beside the bedroom window, waiting for me to look outside so it could reveal itself. It never did, except one evening when we were moving into our home (I was 7) and my uncle (13 years old) snuck up to the window to scare me silly.

Even as an adult, I have felt my hackles rise from some unseen but nonetheless sensed danger in the dark. Because I have also learned to trust my instincts, I make it a rule not to remain in places or situations that cause me to feel uneasy.

But that hasn’t been the case of late. Maybe there are enough real-world dangers that imagined ones don’t register any more. Maybe I have put aside the childish fears of youth, or exorcised them through my writing.

But more likely, I think, I have merely recognized that I’m where I need to be for this time, and that includes a bit of walking under the light of the moon, in the narrow lane between the deep shadows, where leaves rustle and something unseen goes bump in the night.

Peace.
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(This is my Undercurrents column for PanamaCity.com and The News Herald this week.) 

Flashback Friday: The Ladybird of the Galaxy

(The following is a segment from a memoir writing project I'm playing with. Hope you like it. Share your own recollections of 1970s Sci-Fi TV shows in the comments. — And yes, I know Trek was a 1960s era show, but Roddenberry did quite a few 1970s TV pilots, all of which Majel appeared in.)

From Wikipedia.org

My work with The News Herald in Panama City, Florida, has allowed me opportunities to speak with many of the actors that brought sci-fi TV to life over the years.  In February 1994, and appropo of our subject, I interviewed an interplanetary dignitary when Majel Barrett-Roddenberry — actress and wife of the late Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek — beamed into town for a small sci-fi convention.

Barrett was perhaps best known to fans of the Trek television and movie series.  Not only was she married to Gene (called by his fans "The Great Bird of the Galaxy"), but she was personally involved with every incarnation of the show as an actress and she appeared in each of his subsequent attempts to launch TV series.

She told me that, even though they had hoped (with Trek) to create something new and different for television, “We never dreamed it would be such a cult.  You don’t just get up in the morning and say, ‘Today I’m going to make a legend.’  We just had a job, and we hoped people would like what we were doing.”

From Wikipedia.org

Barrett was cast as the starship Enterprise’s female first officer, “Number One” in the original pilot, which starred Jeffrey Hunter as Capt. Christopher Pike.  The role was written for her, and she was the first actor cast, she said.  Unfortunately, the network thought the pilot was “too cerebral for those slobs in TV-Land,” she said.  (It was a curse that would haunt all of Roddenberry’s future TV pilots.)

“They liked the idea and wanted to see another pilot, but they wanted some changes.  First, they wanted Gene to get rid of the woman second in command, because they said no one would believe a woman in that position.  And second, get rid of the pointy-eared Spock character because he was too devilish and would upset women viewers,” she said.

“As much as he knew it was going to break my heart, Gene desperately wanted to keep the Spock character.  He thought he could keep some things he wanted if he gave in to some of their requests,” she said.  “So he decided to marry the woman and keep Spock on the show.  Besides, Leonard (Nimoy, who played Spock) wouldn’t have had it the other way around.”

NBC also deflated Gene’s concept of gender equality, Barrett said.  He had originally wanted the crew complement to be half male and half female.  Instead, the female complement was reduced to about 10 percent.   “But that was okay, because Gene figured 30 good women could handle a crew of 300,” she said.

With a bleached-blond hairstyle, the naturally brunette Barrett rejoined the cast as Nurse Christine Chapel during the entire run of the series, which starred William Shatner as Capt. James T. Kirk.

“I really wanted to be a part of Star Trek, and when this one script (“What Are Little Girls Made Of?” which introduced the Chapel character) came in, I knew it was my opportunity,” she said.

She cut her hair and bleached it blonde, then waited in Gene’s office for him to come in.  He passed by her twice, even spoke to her once, before finally recognizing her.  She told him, “If I can fool you, I can fool the network.”

Barrett’s voice was also used for the voice of the ship’s computer.  She later contributed her voice to the animated Trek series which ran on Saturday mornings in the early 1970s.  She appeared as Chapel in two of the Trek films, including her favorite of the series, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

In the 1980s, after Gene launched the syndicated television series, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Barrett took on the character Llwaxana Troi, the hyper-sensual mother of one of the command staff.  She also continued to provide the voice of the ship’s computer, and she played Lwaxana again in the third Trek series, Deep Space Nine, in the 1990s.

“Gene came in one day and said, ‘I have a great part for you. You won’t have to act.’  He described Llwaxana as ‘the Auntie Mame of the Galaxy,’” she said.  “The way the first script was written, she was very shallow, but by the third and fourth appearance, she started to blossom.  I’ve been very fortunate that the writing has been superb.”

Barrett died Dec. 18, 2008, as a result of leukemia. (Her birthday was Feb. 23, a date that has some importance to me. It happened in the year 1932.) Her cremains are expected to be launched into space in 2014 alongside her husband's.

Looking Back at 'Logan's Run' (1977-78)

(The following is a segment from a memoir writing project I'm playing with. Hope you like it. Share your own recollections of 1970s Sci-Fi TV shows in the comments.)

Logan 5, Jessica 6 and Rem (Wikipedia)

A spin-off of the 1976 movie that starred Michael York and Jenny Agutter, the Logan’s Run TV series suffered from the common practice of dumbing down scifi to try to appeal to mass audiences and to make the show more “kid friendly.”  The series starred Gregory Harrison and Heather Menzies in softer, less sexualized versions of the characters played by York and Agutter, Logan 5 and Jessica 6, with supporting actors Donald Moffat as the android Rem and Randy Powell as Francis 7, Logan’s former best friend, fellow Sandman, and now relentless pursuer.

>>Check out video of the intro titles and theme music here<<

Carousel (Ebay image)

In the post-nuclear holocaust world of the 23rd Century, Logan is a Sandman; Sandmen are a sort of police force that patrols the City of Domes, where the last humans known to be alive chose to live a hedonistic existence in what looks like an upscale shopping mall, and then give up their lives at age 30 (age 21 in the original novel).  The populace believes they will be reincarnated via the “Carousel” ceremony, but they are simply killed to make room for new test-tube babies.  Sandmen track and kill any citizens who try to escape rebirth by running, i.e., “runners.”

(The series recycled many of the movie’s special effects, including the Carousel sequence, but exchanged the spectacular image of exploding bodies used in the film for a freeze-frame and a “crystallizing” effect.  Probably to keep little kids from trying to blow up their friends at home, which seemed to be the prevailing thought process at TV studios.)

In the film, Logan is placed undercover by the ruling computer to infiltrate a subversive group that is seeking to escape the city for some mythical “Sanctuary” where they can live out their lives in peace.  He gets Jessica to help him, and the two make it through a series of adventures to the ruins of Washington, D.C.  There, they meet an old man and Logan realizes there’s no reason to continue supporting the old ways of the City of Domes. He decides to return there, overthrow the computer ruler, and set the people free from Carousel.

The series wanders from the film’s plot, however, almost as soon as it begins.  Logan is already questioning the rite of rebirth, and he runs with Jessica.  Francis is taken before a secret council of old men and told he can join their number if he successfully brings Logan back for re-education.  It is never really made clear why Francis — not to mention all the other Sandmen dispatched into the outside world — would want to prop up the City of Domes when it’s obvious that there are many other survivors and civilizations in the outside world, which appears to be fully recovered from the war, and they no longer have a reason to die young.

So we once again have the familiar “Fugitive” structure for our episodes:  Innocent of any crime, our hero is on the run from relentless pursuit, meeting new people each week that need help, and then being forced to move on just one step ahead of the long arm of the law.  But rather than a search for proof of innocence, we have innocents searching for a place they can belong and experiencing true freedom — not the false freedom of consumerism and hedonism in exchange for giving up their personal power to a faceless authority — for the first time in their lives.

Logan and Jessica in the film (Screened.com)

I didn’t see the movie in theaters (I was 12 when it was in theaters), catching it only after it had been “Edited for Television” in advance of the series premiere.  And somehow, I rarely caught an episode of this series all the way through in its original run, and never at my own home.  The night of the premiere (Sept. 16, 1977) I was at Grandma and Pawpaw Massey’s house.  The grownups were playing canasta in the dining room, and about the time the pilot got to its secondary story, they took a break to come into the family room to talk; they started making jokes about the show, and I came to realize it was not as good as I was willing to believe.  It was like the Penguin running for Mayor, all over again — though it didn’t stop me from drawing pictures of Logan’s Sandman gun and trying to make a wooden version in my shop class.

Screen capture from 'Captured' (ShareTV.org)

I was at my friend Troy Gandy’s home for the third episode (“Capture,” broadcast Sept. 30, 1977), in which our heroes (and Francis) are hunted by the guy who was the young hot-head gunslinger wannabe from the original Magnificent Seven feature, (Horst Buchholz, bringing some presence to the screen).  Troy was eight months older than me, born in December 1963.  His brother, Robert, was a couple of years older than the both of us.  Troy and Robert fought constantly, either mouthing off at each other, or literally fist-fighting, which was a family dynamic I was not familiar with.  The night of this episode, Robert had picked at Troy until he lost his temper and lunged at his older brother.  They threw each other around the living room, overturning tables and chairs, scattering snacks on the floor.  I just stayed out of the way.

Looking back, I wonder how much of that activity was play-acting, like a TV wrestling match.  I couldn’t tell.  I also wonder how much of it was prompted by sheer boredom after the brothers discovered this was what I wanted to watch on TV.  When we all saw headlights on the driveway, a sudden calm hit the room.  The boys separated, a whirlwind of cleaning occurred, and by the time their mother came in the door, the place was back in the shape it had been in before the fight.  The three of us, sitting on the couch together, eating potato chips and watching Logan’s Run.

I thought about this and other times at the Gandy home a few years ago, when I learned that Troy had taken his own life.

And I realized that Troy and Robert, in their sibling conflict, had mirrored the dynamic of Logan and Francis in that very episode:  One former friend — a brother in almost every way — hunting and fighting the other until a common enemy appeared to force them to work together, at least until their next opportunity to struggle for dominance.  In the theater of my memory, I would have to cast Troy as Logan, as he was only trying to maintain his freedom and his sense of self that night.

I guess that makes me either Rem or Jessica in that scenario; I’ll go with the dispassionate and pacifistic Rem, if it’s all the same to you.  I don’t look that good in short skirts.

On Halloween of that year, I was again at the Gandy house for the only boy-girl party I was ever invited to during my middle- and high school years.  A game of spin-the-bottle was happening on the back porch, and the girl I liked (one of Troy’s cousins) didn’t want to participate.  Moreover, when the bottle pointed at me early in the game, the girl who should have kissed me begged off, lying to the crowd that we were cousins and it wouldn’t be right; I didn’t dispute her.

Screen grab from 'Half Life' (SnowCrest.net)

Instead I went inside to get some snacks, and discovered the TV was on in the living room.  No one was watching it.  Logan’s Run was playing (“Half Life” written by Shimon Wincelberg, broadcast Oct. 31, 1977).  I just stood there, watching Jessica 6 being duplicated, which is a familiar enough idea in sci-fi TV.  Except her personality was being split between the two bodies, so that one Jessica was good and the other evil.  Anyone who had seen Star Trek (specifically “The Enemy Within” episode) knew that we need both expressions of our personality to make us whole, and that people can’t go on as half-people.  (This episode also features a very young Kim Cattrall.)

I heard laughter outside and somewhat reluctantly left Jessica to seek out the party again.  This might have been when I began to recognize that real people didn’t hold as much allure to me as the ones on TV, or maybe I just told myself that because no one wanted to play spin the bottle with me.  Strangely, my situation again mirrored the very episode that was broadcast that night, except that I was the outcast whose personality didn’t conform to the accepted group, and no amount of video effects would make me right for them.

Screen grab of 'The Crypt' (OVGuide.com)

A week later, I saw the next episode from start to finish at my friend Chuck’s house.  Chuck and I had known each other since before we were born.  That is, our fathers and mothers had been in school together and were close friends; our mothers were pregnant within a couple months of each other, and we had playdates from a very early age.  The only real fist fight I ever had in middle school was against Chuck, and we both ended up getting paddled by the principal.  (I remember sitting in the office and Chuck telling me, "You were punching and crying at the same time. That scared the crap out of me.")  Probably one of the first times I ever slept over at a friend’s house, it was at Chuck’s.  He never had quite the same fascination with scifi that I did, though, so it wasn’t surprising that I sat and watched “The Crypt” episode (Nov. 7, 1977) more or less on my own.

Taken from a story by Harlan Ellison, who would later be one of my favorite authors, “The Crypt” concerned a group of people in suspended animation, endangered by earthquakes and stalked by one of their own.  I watched it while sitting on the wood floor in the living room.  Chuck was off somewhere else.  His mother, Elizabeth, was sitting on a chair drawing; later, she showed me the sketch she had done of me as I concentrated on the show.  It embarrassed me to know she had been watching me, but also made me feel special.  She was an English and Literature teacher, and as I grew up and started trying to write fiction, she would be one of my first readers and encouragers.

DVD box set (TheWickedLocal.com)

Recently, I purchased the box set of Logan’s Run from the Warner Archive Collection (WBshop.com) and enjoyed seeing the 14 episode series from the beginning.  Watching the fourth outing, “The Innocent,” I turned to my wife and muttered, “This show did not deserve to live.”  However, there were many bright moments:  “The Crypt” holds up, as does “Man Out of Time,” written by scifi author David Gerrold (most famous in the genre for writing the Trek episode “The Trouble with Tribbles”), who was unhappy with changes to the script and used a pseudonym, “Noah Ward” (as in “no award”) in the credits.  The latter concerned a time traveler who is trying to forestall a nuclear war, but learns that his success at jaunting into the future precipitated the first strike; Logan and his friends have to decide if the traveler should be allowed to return to his own time, even if his success means that their world — and by extension, each of them — might be wiped from history.

I appreciated, even in ’77,  the bravery and earnestness of Logan, the optimism and innocence (girl-next-door and yet Farrah Fawcett-like hotness) of Jessica.  And the lead actors (particularly Donald Moffat) are always fun to watch; you can see they recognized the limitations they were faced with each week and were determined to rise above.

The show was often preempted by the network (only 11 episodes were ever shown on the West Coast during the initial broadcast, according to Internet sources), and it ended its run on Feb. 6, 1978, with “Stargate,” a story written by comic book legend Dennis O’Neil, that failed to bring a conclusion to Logan’s search for Sanctuary.

Thirty-odd years later, I have a daughter named Jessica Heather (and it wasn’t until I began writing this segment that I realized she shares names with the character and the actress); our family lives in a gated community called Sanctuary Beach, where I have taken issue with the runners (at least the ones who trespass into the neighborhood and let their dogs run off-leash).

I have become a Sandman, but I still don’t have a working pistol.