George Takei

July, 2000, TORONTO - The theme running through this past month turned out to be interchange; interchange of many kinds - international, cultural, technological and generational. And it had me traveling over half this globe to three nations.

The first country I traveled to was Japan. I am a commissioner on the Japan-U.S. Friendship Commission, an independent Federal agency that has as its mission, broadly put, to enrich mutual understanding. One of our projects is to utilize the internet by building a site that chronicles the past fifty-year history of the cultural and educational interchange between our two nations. The U.S. working group, of which I am a member, met with our Japanese counterparts to set the basic architecture of the prototype and to outline the content of the site.

Our two-day agenda was fully packed. June was the rainy season in Tokyo and, true to the time of year, it rained both days of our meeting. The air was dense and steamy but, thankfully, air-conditioning made our working time productive. In concert, we set the structure of the project and arrived at mutual agreements on the subjects to be addressed on the site. The bi-national internet interchange project is off to a good start. Our timetable is to have the prototype ready by next spring.

The next day, changing roles, I put on my hat as the Chairman of the Japanese American National Museum for a series of meetings arranged by the Tokyo office of the Los Angeles Convention and Visitors Bureau. Our strategy is to increase tourism by the Japanese to Los Angeles - or people interchange -- by highlighting the Japanese American National Museum. The meetings were with Japanese travel bureaus and agency representatives. Lunch was with about a dozen Japanese travel journalists at a Chinese restaurant. I discovered, however, that my attraction to these people was -- not so much my chairmanship of the Japanese American National Museum -- but as Captain Sulu of Star Trek. One of the journalists even brought his collection of Star Trek books as well as the blueprint of the Starship Enterprise to be autographed. I noted for him that my Captain Sulu uniform from "Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country" was on display at the Japanese American National Museum. Whatever the occasion, Star Trek is an inevitable part of anything with which I might be associated. As long as my primary mission is served - in this case, increased attendance at the Japanese American National Museum - I am a willing Captain Sulu. Star Trek is a powerful magnet for any good cause.

The next evening, however, was an unadulterated Star Trek event. Russ Haslage of the Excelsior campaign had arranged via the internet for me to meet with a small group of Japanese Star Trek fans that are supporters of the Excelsior campaign for a relaxed evening over sushi. The enthusiasm for a new "Star Trek: Excelsior" television series, it seems, spans this globe.

I discovered that many of the Japanese fans were studying English. So I proposed that we make our evening an opportunity for some linguistic interchange. I promised to speak to them in Japanese if they would try to speak to me in English. It was an engaging evening of lively conversations in broken accents and laughter mixed with mangled syntaxes.

A week in Tokyo seems to fly at warp speed. Before an electrifying performance of Kabuki at the famed Kabuki-za Theater or a day trip to the dazzling new development complexes built on land fill in Yokohama could become fond memories, I found myself on a plane bound for home. I left Tokyo at 3 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon and, after a numbing ten-hour flight, arrived back in Los Angeles at 9 a.m. on that same Saturday morning! I was back before I had even left! Not only was I jet-lagged, I had to live through another Saturday. What unanticipated forms of punishment will warp speed impose?

With only the two Saturdays and a Sunday for recovery back in Los Angeles, I was off to Washington D.C. for a momentous event. Twenty-two Asian American veterans of World War II were to be granted the Medal of Honor, the highest military accolade this country can grant. At the end of the war more than fifty years ago, they had been given the second highest honor, the Silver Star. But because of the prevailing attitudes toward Asian Americans at the time, and especially toward Japanese Americans, the Pentagon was requested to again review the records of the Asian American Silver Star recipients. Twenty-two of them - twenty being Japanese Americans with one Chinese and one Filipino- were found to be worthy of the Medal of Honor. The greatest honor a soldier can receive was to be awarded at a White House ceremony by the President and, on the following day, they were to be inducted into the Hall of Heroes at the Pentagon. I was again to represent the Japanese American National Museum at both events and I had the honor of serving as the master of ceremonies of the celebration reception in the evening. But I also had a personal responsibility to be there as well. I owed an enormous debt to these veterans.

The America that I enjoy today is a vastly different world from that before World War II. The opportunities I enjoy today, where Asian Americans can choose to live wherever we want, receive the education for which we qualify, have the freedom to pursue the careers that we want, are possible in large measure because of the gallantry of these extraordinary men. They fought for a nation that had incarcerated their families behind the barbed wires of internment camps. Their country had failed the ideals to which these young men had pledged their allegiance every day in school -- but they had not. Their incredible faith in those ideals and their extraordinary valor changed, not only the course of the war, but the hearts and minds of a nation. I owe so much to them. The legacy of their generation to mine is enormous. I owe my America to them. My pride as an American is solidly based on the awesome price they paid. To witness the seven surviving veterans, some of who are now frail and unsteady in their steps, receiving the Medal of Honor from the President in the White House was a profoundly moving experience. One of them was my friend, U.S. Senator from Hawaii, Daniel Inouye. I will never forget that moment.

A quick shuttle flight for a meeting in New York and I was again back in Los Angeles to perch briefly at home. But two days later, I was back in what is now becoming my second home -- an airline seat - bound for Toronto, Canada. I am working on the narration of a documentary on Canada's effort to develop a new, low-cost and clean source of energy - nuclear fusion.

A sobering fact is that world energy consumption will at least double by the year 2010 - only ten years off. Canada's campaign to develop fusion energy, or energy produced by the combining of atoms -- as opposed to fission, or the splitting of atoms -- is in concert with a consortium of nations. As a citizen of the U.S., but also as a futurist and an environmentalist, I am excited to be participating, if only as an actor-narrator, on this visionary project. I certainly feel I have a duty to make up for the part I have played in my heavy consumption of energy jetting all over our much-beleaguered planet.

January, 2006, LOS ANGELES - I am a person of the theater. I love theater, I make my living from theater, and I find fulfillment in theaters - on both sides of the footlights. Theater is my life. Fittingly, the year 2005 was book-ended by theater trips. It began with a trip to snowy New York in January and it ended with a trip to the West End of London in December. Every night and every matinee afternoon, I lived in theaters.

The past year will be forever defined for me by a single theater experience - my eight-month gallop with the East West Players as psychiatrist Martin Dysart in Peter Shaffer's modern classic, "Equus." The role was challenging, the drama was powerful theater, the director was terrific, and the company of actors gathered for this production was uniformly gifted. "Equus" was a profoundly fulfilling creative experience.

To be sure, the year was filled with many memorable experiences. Without doubt, the most talked-about event in my life in 2005 was my "coming out" interview in Frontiers newsmagazine that was covered by news media outlets worldwide.

I shared some of my thoughts about this in my November 2005 blog, and my partner Brad Altman and I will continue to speak out for gay and lesbian equality in 2006 and beyond.

My autobiography, "To the Stars," was published in Japanese translation in 2005. The promotional book tour for it took me through Japan from Tokyo to the ancient capital of Kyoto to the historic city of Hiroshima. Seizing the opportunity, we also took in the World Expo at Aichi. I served as a panelist at a U.S.-Japan Symposium in Tokyo sponsored by the Japan Foundation in conjunction with the Japanese American National Museum. From my service on the Independent Task Force on Television Measurement, which included travels to many of the nation's major cities, I learned a great deal about the dynamically changing demographics of this nation's diverse viewing audience and the many technologies being developed by Nielsen Research to accurately measure its viewing habits. There were trips to Honolulu and Lakeland, Florida, to narrate symphonic concerts - a musical performance arena that seems to be developing for me. Of course, there were Star Trek conventions with fans, now of many decades, gathered to share old memories and new experiences.

I even did a cameo performance as, of all people, General Douglas MacArthur, in a traveling musical from Japan in its southern California run. All the songs, dances, and dialogues were in Japanese - except for those of General MacArthur. His role, very authentically - and conveniently for me - was in English.

My deepest gratification and greatest commitment, however, was to "Equus." From April, when Tim Dang, the artistic director of East West Players, offered me the lead role of Dr. Martin Dysart, until December 4, when the play closed, "Equus" became my all-consuming dedication. I ate, slept, and lived Martin Dysart.

I had first seen the play in a provincial theater in Leicester, England, back in the 70's and I was blown away by it. The drama of a psychiatrist's struggle with a demented youth who had blinded six horses with a hoof pick was, at once, awful and compelling. Muscular men wearing hoof-like lifts and sculptural horse heads played the horses. The metaphors were powerfully theatrical. It was theater in all its elemental and electrifying force. "Equus" was a play that I could not forget. It haunted me long after I saw it.

A few years later, I saw the same play on Broadway in New York with Tony Perkins, and again, in Los Angeles with Anthony Hopkins. Then I saw the film version starring my idol, Richard Burton, who had played the role on Broadway right after Hopkins. Friend and Star Trek colleague, Leonard Nimoy, had followed Burton into that part on Broadway. The role had impressive pedigrees. There were huge shoes to fill. Now I had that opportunity. I was cast to play the psychiatrist, Martin Dysart.

The first challenge was the memorization involved. Dysart is a talker. There were a lot of words with the role - six long monologues, many extended scenes and Dysart is on stage from start to finish. He is a conflicted man who verbalizes on his anguish eloquently and extensively. I began work on the script from the day I accepted the role. I ran lines daily with Brad. No matter where we were in the world - in New York, in Tokyo, in Waikiki, or in Bison Ridge, Arizona - we ran lines. So much so that I joked that he knew the lines so well that he could be my understudy - if he only he could act!

Then, there is the very complex character of Martin Dysart - an accomplished professional but lacking in personal initiative, charming and witty but uneasy with deep relationships, eloquent but emotionally inarticulate, brilliant but profoundly envious of his patient, the demented boy. Dysart is a psychiatrist struggling with many demons.

Rehearsals began on October 20. We gathered in a huge warehouse in the industrial district of downtown Los Angeles. I knew some of the actors from past works; others I was meeting for the first time. First on the agenda was the table read. We felt the thrill and excitement of hearing the words being spoken by actors for the first time. Some of the actors already had a good handle on their roles. It was promising. We had only four weeks before we would be performing before our first preview audience.

The rehearsal process can be the most engaging, most trying, most frustrating, and ultimately the most gratifying part of the process. The director, Tim Dang, challenged us with probing questions. He made us explore areas of our characters we had failed to see. I love this part of the process. It is like sculpting a character with your imagination, your voice, and your body. I would come home exhausted but feeling great. We actors have to love what we are blessed to be able to do. That love, hard work, dedication, and, of course, talented artists delivered a production of "Equus" of which I am proud to have been a part.

East West Players' production of "Equus" opened on October 26 to glowing reviews. Daily Variety called it, "Striking and highly erotic." The Los Angeles Times deemed it, "A compelling revival gripping power." "Equus" was listed as the L.A. Times' Critic's Choice for our entire run. Our production became the fifth highest grossing box office success in the East West Players' forty-year history.

I was blessed to have worked with so many talented actors. Trieu Tran, who played the demented boy driven by his passion to commit the horrific act of blinding horses, is an impressive talent. Jeanne Sakata, the magistrate who is also Dysart's friend and confidant, delivered a nuanced and moving performance. Cheryl Tsai grew throughout rehearsals to create a charming and poignant character as the boy's girlfriend. Alberto Isaac and Dian Kobayashi, as the boy's dysfunctional parents, were at once touching and chilling. And, the six muscular young men who became the very theatrical embodiment of the horses were magnificently equine.

One of the gratifying aspects of the run was the many friends and fans that came from near and far to see me in "Equus." Star Trek fans that have become friends over the years traveled, not only from other states, but also across oceans to see me in the play. Ena Glogowska crossed the Atlantic from Staffordshire, England, and Sachie Kubo and Shingo Mizuno came across the Pacific from Japan to see me. I was so touched to have my Star Trek colleagues come to see my Martin Dysart. The night Nichelle Nichols came, I knew in advance that she was in the house because, when I stepped into my dressing room, an enormous bouquet of flowers from her greeted me. Leonard Nimoy, who had played Dysart on Broadway to great acclaim, came backstage with his wife Susan Bay Nimoy after the performance and embraced me with a hearty congratulatory hug. I asked him, "Well, how'd I do?" Always the gracious diplomat, Leonard smilingly said to me, "You were better." How can you not love a guy with that kind of graceful wit?

When I was cast in April, I thought the October opening of "Equus" seemed so far off. But, opening night galloped up on us before we knew it and soon closing night was approaching. The ride on that horse dashed through the year with amazing energy and speed. The year 2005 is now past. Time is such a precious and fleeting commodity. But, it was spent productively last year. I will always remember 2005 fondly as my year of the horse.

January, 2006 The twists and turns of life can be so unpredictable. The day after New Year's, a phone call suddenly presented an utterly unexpected prospect for me. It was from Gary Dell'Abate, the producer of the Howard Stern Show on the satellite radio network, Sirius.

I had been on the Howard Stern Show many times before - a few times intentionally, but more often, not. The times I went on the Stern Show with purpose were to promote a play I was doing or the publication of my autobiography, "To the Stars." But more frequently, I've been on the show via bandit recordings of phrases I said while on the show - like, "Oh my!" - or a phone conversation with a celebrity imitator with whom I talked, thinking it was the real celebrity - most absurdly, a brief conversation with a rather poor imitator of Ricardo Montalban. Howard Stern has had his fun with me - and his listeners seemed to be having a hilarious good time listening to his mischiefs. The Stern Show technicians even took my voice from the audiocassette version of my autobiography and manipulated the words to make it seem as if I were actually making some outrageously vulgar statements. They say they're doing all this because they love me, but, I must say, I've never been loved in such a bizarre way.

Gary Dell'Abate was calling me, only two days into the new year, with a question. Like Pavlov's dog, my muscles immediately tightened. What new prank is this, I thought. This was the producer of the Howard Stern Show calling! Gary quickly assured me that our conversation was not being recorded. A little wary, but still a little curious, I continued the conversation. Gary asked, "Would you be interested in joining the Stern Show as the announcer?" I burst out laughing. I was not going to be taken in by that tired old joke. "No, I really mean it, George," he insisted. "I'm serious." He did sound sincere. Very guardedly, I played along. "Well, it does sound intriguing," I responded. "But why don't you talk to my agent and see what happens? You may not be able to afford me." That should put an end to this trick, I thought. "Of course I'll do that," he assured me, "but I wanted to know if you would really be interested." I sensed that he was trying to keep me on the line.

So, I said to Gary that I would call my agent myself and tell him that I am intrigued by the invitation and gave him my agent's number. Then I hung up. From that conversation with Gary Dell'Abate, the year 2006 was off and running as I had never, in my wildest dreams, expected it to be.

Of all things, the invitation turned out to be true! It wasn't a prank. My agent had conversations with the Stern people, and, five days after that call from Gary, I was on a plane for New York to be the "announcer" on the Howard Stern Show.

Some people have questioned why I appear on a radio show so filled with disgusting talk and obscenity. I respond to them that, yes, the show has language and talk of body functions that really aren't my cup of tea. I try not to use those words myself, but don't we hear them around us daily? The body functions that Howard and gang talk about are what we all do daily as normal, healthy human beings. Howard simply talks about the realities of our life candidly. Some people seem to find life as it is - obscene. I don't.

However, Howard Stern is passionately against what is truly obscene in our society. He has railed at the obscenity of allocating billions of dollars of pork barrel money for a "bridge to nowhere" in Alaska, while our soldiers in Iraq are dying because of deficient and ineffective body armor.

He has attacked the indecency of tax cuts for the wealthiest at a time of war. He has howled at the outrage of plunging our nation into war with bad intelligence, tough talk, and inadequate planning. He strongly believes that people who love each other, care for each other, and take responsibility for each other that happen to be of the same gender are entitled to equal rights. Howard Stern is a shock jock because truth naked can be shocking. Some of his humor can be adolescent. So what? We all could use a bit of adolescent giggle from time to time. It's good for us. And sometimes, for me it has been humbling, which is also good for all of us from time to time. Humility keeps us grounded. Laughter is the tonic of life.

Howard Stern challenges the status quo, politically, socially, and economically. He exercises our Constitutional freedom of speech vigorously. I admire his daring. I have high regard for his venturesome spirit in making the move from free terrestrial radio to the high-risk adventure of paid satellite radio. It was a singular distinction for me to be the first voice heard on the very first broadcast of his new show. And, Howard's brave move seems to be paying off. His loyal fans and others are switching in the millions as subscribers to Sirius. It is in the same bold spirit of "Star Trek" - to explore new frontiers, new technologies, and new ways of doing things - and laughing at the absurdities of life all the way.