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June, 2004, SEATTLE - Imagination is that wondrous medium that propels us into the future of human society - into marvels of science, technology, and human affairs. Within the laws of science, imagination has produced wonders undreamed of. Within the disciplines of technology, imagination has transformed the world. Within all the complexities of human nature, imagination has created a civil society.

Yet, there is the imagination that still pushes at limitations. That is the imagination that drives beyond boundaries into the realm of science fiction. Freed from constraints, this imagination then truly enters the sphere of exploration. It investigates relevant issues with greater clarity. It gains deeper insights, a larger awareness. It expresses our greatest hopes as well as our darkest fears. This is the imagination that takes us into the land of science fiction. I found this land, alive and vibrant, in Seattle, Washington.

The landmark symbol of Seattle is the still futuristic-looking floating disk in the sky called the Space Needle. Seattle is the home of Microsoft and Boeing. Science and imagination are at the foundation of this city's economy. So it is eminently fitting that Seattle celebrates science fiction. And it was celebrated in exuberant style with the opening of the fabulous, new Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame on June 16, 2004.

Nichelle Nichols and I were invited as guests to the gala opening night party of the spectacular museum. Located at the foot of the Space Needle, the building was designed by the award-winning architect, Frank Gehry. We were driven right up to the entrance - and I was taken aback! The building looked like a pile of shiny, multi-colored shards and bent pieces of a space ship crash. I felt like we were entering a stunningly glamorous disaster area. I know that imagination involves daring, the taking of risks - and this looked like a risk that failed. Risks and failures are a part of science fiction. I love the architecture of Frank Gehry's new Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles. It is a dazzling monument to imagination. I don't think the Science Fiction Museum in Seattle is one of his successes.

But the content of the museum was stunning in the most extraordinary way. It brims with sci-fi wonders. The galleries are filled with the history of science fiction: first edition books by legends, rare tomes such as Ray Bradbury's "The Martian Chronicles" and "Fahrenheit 451," and H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine." There are film and television artifacts - models, costumes, props and posters - from "Blade Runner," "Planet of the Apes," "The Day the Earth Stood Still," "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," "ET," and many others. There are imaginative original artworks illustrating visions of the future, art that dates back to the late 1800s. And, of course, there are one-of-a-kind memorabilia from our "Star Trek." There is Captain Kirk's Command Chair, which has its own interesting history in which I played a small part. The set of the television U.S.S. Enterprise had been donated to my alma mater, the UCLA film department. It was used for a few student film projects and then, neglectfully allowed to dry and age in the hot southern Californian sun. A staff carpenter, a secret Trek fan, decided to "rescue" it by taking it home and storing it in his garage. Sadly, he died shortly after. Years later, just by happenstance, I shared a table with his widow at a charity fund raising dinner. She told me of "this old Star Trek chair" her husband left her in the garage that she didn't know what to do with. I informed her of a Beverly Hills auction house that was preparing a Sci-Fi collectors' sale. She checked into it and had the chair's authenticity verified. It was the genuine article. So the Captain's Chair was auctioned off and sold - at a handsome price - to Paul Allen, one of the billionaire founders of Microsoft and the Founder of the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. It is now on display as a part of the museum's permanent collection. Nichelle and I had the honor of validating the "Star Trek" exhibit by autographing a model of the Starship Enterprise. I felt further honored by being featured in two of the museum's video commentaries that run continuously as a part of the exhibit.

The opening night party was great fun - food, music, and dear, but rarely seen friends. It was great visiting with John and Bjo Trimble, the dedicated Star Trek fans who launched a crazy campaign to save a faltering television sci-fi show and ultimately succeeded. They called it the "Star Trek Lives" campaign. Forrest Ackerman, the legendary sci-fi collector was there, now reduced by age to a wheelchair. But age cannot wither, nor time diminish, this man's enthusiasm and delight in people and the fans of this imaginative genre. We talked of the time, years ago, when he opened up his astoundingly vast collection to me for a private showing. It was a grand night of nostalgic reminiscences about the future.

The Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame is a tribute, not only to science fiction, but to the imagination that sets the goals for the human future. This museum cherishes and preserves that history of imagination and its achievements and, at the same time, inspires the imagination of the young minds of the future. In the shiny wreckage of a venturesome architectural vision resides the new home of future-oriented imagination.

Seattle, at the same time, has opened a fantastically imaginative architectural success. Its new Seattle Central Library is a stunningly innovative structure that works as smoothly and as silently as a machine and looks as fun and colorful as a staggered stack of giant books. As visually arresting as the zigzag levels are, they also are organized in a most rational arrangement. The reading rooms jut out to capture the most natural light for better reading and energy conservation while the book storage levels are "stacked" centrally for easy access on a ramped grade. The children's book department is on the street level with the auditorium and meeting rooms in the windowless hill side. This achievement of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas is a new world landmark that further anchors Seattle as the city of imagination and creativity. What a great place to be poised to launch into the future.

December, 2000, OSAKA, Japan - A trip to Japan is like a continuous time warp back and forth through history, from the past to the cutting-edge present, then back to the ancient. My mission was history based. The international opening of the Japanese American National Museum's traveling exhibit on the history of the Japanese Americans of Hawaii at the Okinawa Prefectural Museum in Okinawa, Japan.

My arrival in Japan was at Kansai International Airport, a stunningly contemporary facility built on a vast man-made island in Osaka Bay. The Japanese flair for efficiency and design, rationality melded with style, made the normally punishing process of an international transit a smooth, in fact, pleasurable, experience. We sailed through customs, exchanged our dollars for yen, had a tasty light snack of buckwheat noodles all in stylish comfort, and we were on our way to our destination, Okinawa.

The opening of the museum's exhibit was a great success. A large contingent of museum supporters and staff were in attendance, including Irene Hirano, the museum's president and executive director. U.S. Ambassador to Japan, Thomas Foley, U.S. Senator from Hawaii, Daniel Inouye, Lt. Governor of Hawaii, Mazie Hirono, and Governor Inamine of Okinawa were our honored guests together with more than 250 other Americans who had traveled to be with us for the opening. As the only American to speak at the ceremony in both Japanese and English, I became something of the bridge to mutual understanding that is the point of our exhibit.

The following day was back to the future. The museum sponsored a special educational program at the National Okinawa Youth Center on Tokashiki Island, a fast jetfoil ride away from the main island. The program featured two astronauts from NASA, Daniel Tani, a Japanese American from Chicago, and Mamoru Mohri, a Japanese astronaut who has flown two NASA space missions in the past two years. The program had the eyes and imagination of the young people of Okinawa soaring to the stars.

From Okinawa, I flew to the southern Japan city of Fukuoka because of my personal interest in architecture. I had read that American architect Jon Jerde had designed a remarkable project in Fukuoka called Canal City. Remarkable it is! Jerde has designed a fancifully futuristic commercial complex incorporating one of the many canals of Fukuoka. There are restaurants and shops galore, offices and educational facilities and a dazzling multiplex cinema and a grand theater for Broadway musicals - indeed a traveling production of Disney's "Lion King" was the next production booked. Whimsically geometric structures snake and undulate following the curves of the canal. The canal itself spouted jets of water five stories up. Lights bubbled and flickered or glowed and subtly illuminated the contours of the fanciful buildings. There were performers on little peninsulas out on the canal. But the cascade of people flowing up and down the escalators and stairways made simple people watching just as entertaining. Jerde's creation is an architectural Broadway musical. And my actor's instincts led me to book my hotel reservation at the Hyatt Grand right smack center stage in the middle of the whole colorful production. I lived for two days and two nights in an architect's theatrical fantasy.

Then a super-fast bullet train sped me right back into history. When it stopped, we transferred to an old-fashioned ferry that sailed leisurely toward the legendary shrine island of Miyajima shrouded in the mist of history. As a matter of fact, there was a light mist in the air as we approached the famous floating torii gate to Itsukushima Shrine that seems to mystically rest on water. Legend has it that because the island is considered sacred, there were no births or deaths allowed on it. That all had to take place on the mainland. Even today, there is no hospital on the island. However, at the ferry station, we did take a taxi, instead of the rickshaw, to our lodging. As we were driven through the narrow passageways of the village of Miyajima, it felt as though we were passing through the set of a samurai movie. A short way up the hillside and we arrived at a magnificent Japanese villa. This was the historic Iwaso Inn, one of the great lodges of Japan. We were gracefully ushered by a charming kimono-clad chambermaid to a classically formal Japanese room. Beyond the veranda lay a serene view of a maple forest. I could have sat meditating on that veranda all day. But we had so much we wanted to do.

It was autumn and the forest had turned a spectacular palette of reds, oranges, and yellows as well as the deep greens of the evergreens. We took a cable ride high over the spectacularly painted forest to the topmost point of the island. We fed the famously hungry tame deers that roam the island of Miyajima. We trooped through the shrine with the day-tripping tourist horde. Exhausted, we returned to our inn. I soaked in the hot Japanese bath gazing up at the steam wafting through the pine branches. Every tired muscle in my body seemed to melt into blessed relaxation.

Shortly after I had changed into my formal kimono provided by the inn, a gentle knock came on our sliding door. Our chambermaid was ready to serve us dinner. The low, spacious lacquered table in our room became the stage for a seemingly endless parade of small, artfully arranged dishes presented with elegance and grace. This was the renowned "kaiseki" dinner of ancient Japan. When the last delicious morsel had been served, the chambermaid suggested that we go for an after dinner stroll on the island. Miyajima at night, she urged, is something quite special.

She was so right. The island was magically transformed. The hurly burly of the day-trippers had disappeared and in its place was a tranquil scene of kimono-clad people quietly admiring the illuminated shrine and pagoda. The reflection of the shrine on the calm, dark water made it seem almost supernatural. On our way back, we ambled past the detached villa of our inn that was reserved for the emperor. Emperor Hirohito himself, we were told, had regularly stayed there. When we returned to our room, the lacquered table had vanished and in its place futon beds had neatly been arranged. That night, I slept deeply dreaming the dream of some past emperor.

Another quick bullet train ride the next day and we were in the shining new metropolis of Hiroshima. This city, flattened by the devastation of the atomic bomb over half a century ago, has rebuilt itself into a modern urban center of broad, tree-lined boulevards, tall glassy buildings and, at its focal point, a leafy park dedicated to international peace, the center of which is the Peace Museum. The exhibit there is a deeply moving chronicle of the human suffering as a result of the dropping of the bomb.

In Hiroshima, I was back to wearing my hat as the chairman of the Japanese American National Museum. After Okinawa, we want to tour our exhibit throughout Japan. It is currently set for Osaka in March of 2001. Because a large number of Japanese immigrants came from Hiroshima, as indeed my maternal grandparents did, we would very much like to see our exhibit visit there. I had met Governor Yuzan Fujita of Hiroshima on a previous visit and so had arranged to meet with him again to gain his support and guidance finding a way to get our exhibit to Hiroshima. The Governor greeted me warmly and, after I made my request, he immediately had ideas of a venue to be considered. He called for his personal car and driver and promptly dispatched me to examine his suggested site. Transported in the luxurious comfort of the Governor's car, I toured a handsome new exhibition hall. I now feel rather confident that the people of Hiroshima will be viewing our exhibit.

After visits with relatives in Hiroshima, I was back on the bullet train for my final stop on this trip, Osaka. The Second City of Japan is an overwhelming metropolis of congested traffic, bustling commerce and energetic people. And this is where the popularity of Star Trek in Japan is enormous. Through Russ Haslage of the Excelsior campaign, fans in Osaka had contacted me, and a charming young lady, Sachie Kubo, had made arrangements, to show me their city.

When I checked into my hotel room, the view that greeted me through my window was of the great Osaka Castle, the most spectacular historic structure in Japan. Circled by a wide moat protecting a lush park-like area, then looming up on a base of gigantic boulders amazingly fitted together, the castle sparkled in the sun with its golden embellishments. I had to go across immediately to tour it.

Crossing the arched bridge over the moat felt like the prelude to entry into the past. This was the very place where great battles were fought by the most powerful shogun in Japan's history, Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Stepping into this storied precinct, I felt as though I were going back in time. That illusion was immediately smashed when a trendy young runner jogged by wearing a shiny spandex running outfit, then another wearing earphones with a thin metallic antenna bobbing over his head. I learned that the park inside the moat was one of the popular running paths of Osaka. As I walked through the outer entrance of the castle and the gigantic wood gate studded with black iron braces, I recognized it immediately from the television mini-epic, "Shogun." I remembered that this was where it was filmed on location. We trudged up a seemingly endless series of gray granite steps to the castle's main entrance. As we huffed and puffed, our straining muscles let us know how impregnable this castle must have been to the warlords who attacked it. We paid our admission and walked in. I stood there stunned. In front of us was a bank of elevators! There were video displays on the history of the castle built right into the walls! And I felt the comforting warmth of forced air heating in this ancient castle! I learned from a brochure that this historic castle had been completely rebuilt just a few years ago -- with all modern conveniences to boot. With a slight sense of disillusionment, we took the elevator to the top of the castle. The view was great. We were taking in the panoramic vista of modern day Osaka from the highest point of the castle, when I heard an American accented voice shout at me, "My god! You're Mr. Sulu, aren't you?" With one excited exclamation, I was brought from my fantasies at the pinnacle of this recently rebuilt ancient castle, back to my very own present day reality. The cameras flashed as I posed for pictures with American Star Trek fans touring in Osaka.

I spent the following day with Japanese Star Trek fans in Osaka. Four beaming faces were waiting in the hotel lobby that morning to show me the sights of this city. Sachie Kubo and Masanori Mizuumi were from Osaka but I was both flattered and moved to discover that Yoshimitsu Murata and Youichi Nieda, whom I had met on a previous trip to Tokyo earlier this year, had traveled all the way down from Tokyo to share the day with me.

It was a fun-filled day of roaming through a vibrant and engaging metropolis of busy marketplaces and elegant shops, raucous entertainment quarters and traditional bunraku theater and temples and shrines. We even saw a traditional wedding ceremony taking place at one of the temples. That evening, about a dozen more fans joined us at a restaurant for a lovely dinner of Japanese hot pot and conversations about the Excelsior campaign. The savory steam that wafted up from the bubbling pot of vegetables, seafood, noodles and other delicious morsels seemed to warm new friendships and enhance old ones.

All to soon, our 10-day trip to Japan was coming to an end. The next afternoon, we were on the express train to Kansai International Airport for our flight to Los Angeles - home to prepare for the holidays. As I write this on my laptop in the airport lounge in Osaka, I'm reminded of the many events of this past year. Much has happened, great and small. We have much to be thankful for. And much we need to do in the future. May I wish you all the joys and blessings of this holiday season.