Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.
Leonard Nimoy, Spock, is dead. The deaths of celebrities don't usually make a dent in my life. I'm surprised when people get worked up about the passing of a movie star or performer. But Spock hit me. And, though twitter usually holds no interest for me, his last tweet was powerful to me: A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory Those words brought tears to my eyes. Partially for his passing. Partially for the simple truth the sentence carried. My earliest memories, apart from times with my family and some instances at school that have been recounted by my parents, are of Star Trek reruns. I planned my life at home around watching the reruns, to the frustration of my parents, who would shake their heads muttering Spock, Klink, and 99 (I also loved Hogan's Heroes and Get Smart reruns). I created an Auxiliary Control Room in my bedroom, cutting out communicators, phasers, and control panels out of construction