George Takei

January, 2001, LOS ANGELES - The 20th century is now history and we begin a new century and a bright new millennium. What this millennial turn might portend is both tantalizing, and, at the same time, just a bit daunting. The last century gave us astronauts on the moon as well as the atomic bomb; the reading of the human genome and the Holocaust; the darkest of evils and some of the most magnificent advances to come from the human mind. If history is any guide, the years ahead will likely move us forward with even more dazzling new advances wrought from the genius of our minds, as we at the same time struggle to avert another plunge into some horrific new depravity. I am an optimist hopeful that wisdom would prevail over our darker aspects but mindful of the infinite range of the human animal. We have the capacity for nobility and depravity as well as vacillation. The United States now has a new President who lost the popular vote and was appointed by a partisan U.S. Supreme Court. We begin the millennium on an ambiguous but nevertheless hopeful note.

I finished the last month of the last year with my traditional shopping trek to London. I love London. I love its theaters. I love its museums. I love its people. I love its ever-changing, ever-unchanging appeal.

"Cats" is still playing in London as New York brought the final curtain down on the record-breaking run of its Broadway version. Of course, the eternal "The Mousetrap" is still playing. Theater in London is eternal. They do great American plays as masterfully as they do Shakespeare. I saw a moving production of Eugene O'Neill's masterpiece, "Long Days Journey Into Night," with a deeply affecting performance by Jessica Lange. I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber's newest musical, "The Beautiful Game," a heartbreaking tale of the conflict in Northern Ireland that had some resonance of "West Side Story." My biggest theatrical disappointment was a much-lauded production of Stephen Sondheim's "Merrily We Roll Along." After fighting a rainstorm to get to the theater, we were told that the performance was cancelled because of an illness in the cast. They had no understudy. Our disappointment continued into the night with the restaurant that we decided on in lieu of the play. Service was poor, the food mediocre and the bill preposterous. I guess some evenings just are not meant to be.

Cultural London is wonderfully transforming itself without physically altering the urban landscape. Some of the most exciting new cultural institutions are in adaptively reused buildings or restoration of great classic structures.

The stunning Tate Modern, the new museum on the south bank of the Thames, is in a former powerhouse. The monstrous industrial space has been masterfully reshaped into a series of wonderful galleries. However, great works of modern art somehow seem to get upstaged by windows in some of the galleries that offer spectacular views of St. Paul's Cathedral across the river. Even Andy Warhol couldn't compete with that splendid city vista. And I recommend the top floor restaurant for a champagne lunch with a fabulous view.

I hadn't been to The British Museum in more than a decade. I'd read that a wonderful new improvement had been made there. The Great Court of The British Museum had been carved out of the clutter of ancillary buildings built over the years around the old British Library in the courtyard of the museum. We rushed to view this new addition to the London cultural scene two days after Queen Elizabeth II had inaugurated the space. Touted as the largest covered public space in Europe, I found it a bright, spacious and elegant expansion of a London treasure. The terrace restaurant there hadn't opened yet, so I will have to return there again soon.

The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden is legendary. In addition to its own storied history, George Bernard Shaw contributed to its fame by placing the opening scene of his play "Pygmalion" right in front of the Covent Garden Opera House, as does the play's musical version, "My Fair Lady." The opera house and the floral hall next to it had been under renovation for the past few years and had reopened in 1999 to great critical applause. The demand for tickets was so hot that I couldn't get in back then. This visit, I was determined and managed to get a pair of tickets for the ballet "Ondine." The performance was superb but the opera house itself was absolutely breathtaking. It was opera-going in the classic European tradition. Gilded tiers piled upon glittering tiers filled with elegantly dressed theatergoers. The new Covent Garden Opera House shone with a brilliance that only sensitive restoration combined with modern technology could produce. And the incorporation of the crystalline Floral Hall as an addition to the lobby with stylish new restaurants was great. Service efficient, food delightful, and prices varied.

The most controversial cultural addition to the London landscape was also its newest and most temporary -- the Millennium Dome. Looking like a giant desert tent or some extraterrestrial construction site on the Meridian Line at Greenwich, the Dome was a vast exposition hall with exhibits on the challenges and opportunities in the new millennium. Divided into 14 zones of diverse human activities such as work, play, learning, money and journey, it was much too much to experience in a day. We did the journey through a gigantic human body, walked through one million pounds in British sterling and went through the exhibit on future modes of travel. I should have been prepared for the inevitable -- floating luminously above us in the travel zone was a model of the Starship Enterprise. But, like Cinderella's coach, the Millennium Dome disappeared on December 31, 2000. A good number of British people felt that this attraction was much too much money spent for much too little. However, the Millennium Dome, with its subway line extension, the regeneration of the area and the Millennium Village, leaves a fine legacy of infrastructure for the future development of a formerly underused area. I thought it a good investment.

One millennium project that will remain on the London landscape is the giant Ferris wheel dubbed the Millennium Eye built on the south bank of the Thames across from Big Ben. On a clear, cold, blustery day, we headed out for a bird's eye view of London from the wheel. Alas, the day may have been bright and sunny but the strong wind made a ride on the delicately balanced attraction too chancy. They cancelled operation of the Ferris wheel. We now have another good reason to return to London.

The one inevitable joy on any of my travels is a gathering with Star Trek fans. Jackie Edwards, a former fan club president, had moved to Essex and had been urging me to visit that part of England. It was the driest part of England, she had told me. So, this being England, I had to travel through a driving rainstorm to reach Norwich in Norfolk. Hosted by Richard Stubbings, owner of a fantastical store called Kulture Shock, I spent a day as lively as it was wet with fans that have become good friends.

The millennium is off to a happy start. Let's all work to keep it that way.

August, 2003, LOS ANGELES - Winston Churchill said of history, "the farther back I look, the farther forward I can see." He believed that the lessons learned from history could prepare us to meet the challenges that we face in the future. Last month, I literally lived the value of Churchill's wisdom with a trip to Williamsburg, Virginia.

As if the 'transporter' from Star Trek had 'beamed' me back in time, I was living in the year 1774, just before the War for Independence from the onerous rule of the English King, George III. As a historic preservationist, I'd always wanted to visit Williamsburg, the colonial capital of Virginia, famous for its historic buildings that had been preserved, restored or recreated to pre-revolutionary times. I'd read that there would be guides authentically dressed to the period. However, I didn't realize how complete that experience back in time would be.

The buildings were magnificently restored. What was truly impressive was the recreation of the context of the times. At the very center of Williamsburg was the Governor's Palace - as it was called. It was a substantial mansion but certainly not a palace in the grand European sense. But to the colonists, this imposing residence was the very symbol of opulence and the King's might. The houses of even the wealthy colonials seemed modest in contrast. Anchoring both ends of the main street, Duke of Gloucester, were the two significant structures of the capital, the Wren Building of the College of William and Mary, the seat of learning, at one end and the Capitol with the House of Burgesses, the seat of governance, at the other end. In the House of Burgesses, we sat in the seats that the Virginia representatives sat as we listened to the authentically clad historic interpreter recount all that transpired in this great hall. She pointed to a youngster and said that he may be sitting in the very seat from which Patrick Henry thundered against the King's taxes. He giggled self-consciously. She pointed to another teen-ager and said that she could be seated where Thomas Jefferson sat. She touched the wood of her seat with renewed awe. The docent personalized the past. She made history vibrantly real to a group of twenty-first century tourists. As the crowd moved on, I lingered in the great hall admiring the architecture. The docent approached me smiling. This faithful representative of history clad in colonial garb then, unexpectedly, broke the time barrier. Very discreetly, she whispered, "I have been a life-long Star Trek fans and was delighted to see you in the group. Would it be possible to get your autograph?" It was charming. I, who had depicted the future in fiction, connected with this wonderful spokesperson for the past. Arleen Donikowsky is a woman who spans the centuries with equal devotion to the past and the future.

There were no cars in the historic district. If one didn't walk, there were horse drawn carriages for those who were willing to pay. Most people walked - as did most people then. When one talked to the people dressed in colonial garb, they talked as people of their time. The shocking news that they shared with us was the report of some up in Boston who had dressed up as Indians and dumped English tea into Boston Harbor as a protest against the King's unjust tax. The people of Williamsburg certainly shared the sense of outrage against the tax. However, dumping the tea into the harbor, they thought, was rather "extreme." At noon, there was a fife and drum parade down Duke of Gloucester Street and we got a good sense of the martial spirit of the colonists. There were people dressed as colonials who spoke with Scottish or Hungarian accents because they had recently arrived as immigrants to America - as indeed there were immigrants back then. When we toured the houses of the wealthy, there were black slaves that did the cooking and cleaning. But they told us of others who had been freed and worked as blacksmiths or craftsmen. We visited a carpenter's workshop where furniture for the town was made in the traditional way. In this city of many races, backgrounds and social station, there was warmth, civility, graciousness, and a sense of community. We had dinner in historic eating establishments like the 18th century chophouse, King's Arm Tavern or Christiana Campbell's Tavern, which was George Washington's favorite, where menus offered traditional fare of the time. Costumed musicians playing the lute or other quaint period instruments provided the entertainment as we dined.

The three day visit was truly "beaming back" into history. The sights, sounds, tastes, and spirit of colonial Williamsburg surrounded us completely. We got a real sense of the colonial spirit of mutual caring when we were caught in a sudden summer storm one evening just as we were leaving the historic district. Sopping wet, we were dashing back to our hotel when suddenly a lone s.u.v. came driving down the road. The driver opened the car window and shouted, "Here, use these," threw out umbrellas and drove off - no charge, no request for their return, just a simple gesture of kindness. We accepted the umbrellas with drenched gratitude. The colonial spirit of mutual help carried over into the 21st century.

From my visit to Williamsburg, I got a renewed understanding of the daily struggles and challenges faced by the Virginia colonists. Whatever their station, everyone had a role to fulfill and a responsibility to the community. There was a spirit of interdependence and mutual assistance and, at the same time, a pressing hunger for justice. The leaders then were extraordinary men of principal and vision. American democracy was born out of this mix. The ringing words, "We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal" were articulated out of the fusion of the spirit and events of these times. Yes, they lived with slavery. Yes, only educated landowners could vote. Yes, the women had no role in leadership. Yes, there were inconsistencies with the realities of the times. Yet, out of those societal discrepancies rose the vision of a nation of shining ideals, the framework for America. Our democracy is a continuing work in progress - and through the years, we have been making progress.

So, as a Californian, I am troubled by the mockery that is being made of our democratic electoral procedure by the irresponsibility of the recall of a recently re-elected governor. The recall is an important citizens' tool in a democracy to be used, as the constitution states, in cases of "malfeasance in office." It is not a tool to be used by bad losers of a legitimate election. I did not vote for the governor. I do not like him despite the fact that he and I are of the same political party. However, in a democracy, we accept the will of the majority and prepare for the next election to get rid of a bad politician. Just because you lost an election, that does not mean the losing minority has the right to recall him eight months later. I do not like President George Bush. I didn't vote for him. I feel he has been a disaster for the nation and the economy. He didn't even win the popular vote. However, the Supreme Court in a lawful procedure appointed him. Therefore, I have accepted that fact as part of the process and have waited to work for his replacement with the next election.

It is rather ironic that I am advocating the replacement of President Bush because last April I played a member of his cabinet, Secretary of Transportation Norman Mineta, in a television film which will be aired on Showtime cable channel on Sunday evening, September 7. It is titled, "DC 9/11: Time of Crisis," and is about the Bush administration during the days immediately following the horrors of September 11, 2001. My friend, Timothy Bottoms, plays President Bush. It is a tense drama of the response of the Bush administration to the trauma of horrific events. I hope you will all be able to catch it.

July, 2003, LOS ANGELES - As the lyrics of the Rogers and Hammerstein song from "Carousel" rejoice, "June is busting out all over. All over the meadows and the hills." For me, June burst out all over America from the islands of Hawaii to the towers of Chicago to the green rolling hills of Tulsa, Oklahoma, with a day on the tiny island nation of the Republic of Kiribati thrown in for good measure.

June began with a Star Trek convention in Honolulu followed by a floating version of that convention known as a Star Trek cruise around the islands of Hawaii. It was grand sailing from one paradisiacal isle to another with fans - many who have become friends over the years. I'd been to most of the islands of Hawaii many times before. I'd hiked down into the spectacularly sere crater of the extinct volcano, Haleakala, on Maui. I'd marveled at the unearthly sight of the steaming moonscape of Volcano National Park on the big island of Hawaii. I was awed by the beauty of the undersea life as I snorkled in the crystalline waters of Hanauma Bay on the main island of Oahu. But, this was my very first visit to the fabled island of Kauai. As the ship sailed into the port of Nawiliwili, the lush tropical foliage seemed to cascade down the mountainside and over the cliffs like a verdant lava flow. I wanted to explore this island as much as I could within the limit of the day we had in port. I scheduled a boat ride up the Wailua River to the fabled Fern Grotto as well as a helicopter tour over the lush green majesty of this island known as the "Garden Isle."

We sailed up the slow flowing waters of the Wailua River in a thatched flat bottom boat with Hawaiian musicians serenading us on board with the lilting melodies of the islands. The jungle overflowed the riverbank and seemed to be testing the waters with their green tendrils dipping into the river. This, we were told, is the favorite island of Hollywood film makers. Movies from "South Pacific," "Donavan's Reef" with John Wayne, "Blue Hawaii" with Elvis Presley and the recent "Tears of the Sun" with Bruce Willis to television series such as "Fantasy Island," "Hawaii 5-0" and "Magnum P.I." have been filmed on Kauai.

On reaching the headwaters of the Wailua, we disembarked for a brief hike to the Fern Grotto, an almost cathedral-like shallow cave abundant with lacy ferns. The musicians from the boat, who trekked up with us, sang the "Hawaiian Wedding Song." It was so romantic. We could easily understand why so many couples choose to get married in this dream-like setting. We cruised lazily back down the Wailua, now eagerly looking forward to our afternoon helicopter ride over this magnificent island.

Kauai is singular. It has the wettest spot in the world, Mount Wai'ale'ale. And, weather here can change on a dime. What had been a beautifully sunny morning suddenly turned into dark churning clouds in the afternoon. As if maliciously on cue, when the 2 o'clock take off time of our helicopter tour came, it started to rain. Prudently, the tour operators cancelled our flight and my anticipation of a bird's eye tour of Kauai was washed out. As a consolation, we did the only other activity available. We took the port shuttle and spent a rainy afternoon at the local K mart. There was a price to be paid for the lush tropical beauty of this island - drenched frustration. At least I was able to stock up on Macadamia nuts from K mart. I salved my disappointment with plans for a return visit to Kauai.

The visit to the Republic of Kiribati was a legal mandate that our Norwegian registered cruise ship had to fulfill. As a foreign registered ship departing from a U.S. port, it was required that it stop at, at least, one foreign port before it came back into the port of Honolulu. Kiribati, a speck of a coral atoll in the Pacific, was that required foreign stop. A short tender trip and a quick hike around a blisteringly hot atoll was enough for me. I quickly retreated to the air-conditioned comforts of the cruise ship.

A meeting of the Board of Trustees of the Japanese American National Museum took me to the great city of Chicago later in the month. Our Museum is not only building a growing base of support in the Chicago area, but also preparing a major exhibit on the resettlement of Japanese Americans in the Midwest after their internment during World War II. This was an opportunity for the trustees to meet and talk with the people of Chicago about that history and to thank the supporters of the Museum. Of course, for a passionate lover of architecture like me, visiting Chicago is always a joy. Just walking around this city that gave birth to the skyscraper and continues to innovate with high-rise buildings is an inspiration. I even managed to squeeze in an evening of theater in a Chicago landmark, the Looking Glass Theater. The play was based on Studs Turkel's book, "Race," adapted and directed by David Schwimmer from the television series, "Friends." It was a powerful play that received a prolonged standing ovation on the night that I saw it. The "bravo, bravo, bravos" still echo in my ears.

From Chicago, I flew directly to Tulsa, Oklahoma, for another Star Trek convention. This one however, was different. It was in Oklahoma. To me, a convention in Oklahoma always brings back poignant memories. I had a convention scheduled in Oklahoma City on the weekend after Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek, passed in October of 1991. It was the year of the 25th anniversary of his, now legendary, creation. Gene was a dear friend as well as my producer. The pain, the sense of loss, was agonizing. I had seriously considered canceling my appearance. However, the organizer persuaded me to think of the fans there that were also grieving Gene's death. I decided to go with the plan to make the convention a memorial to Gene Roddenberry. But, even in death, so typical of Gene, his idealism prevailed over our grief. In sharing our memories of him - mine personal, theirs through inspiration - our recollections turned the event into a celebration of his life and ideals. I will always remember that gathering in Oklahoma as one of the most moving conventions that I was ever a part of. I shared that memory with the fans gathered in Tulsa this hot June afternoon. Some had been at that convention more than a decade ago but most had not. Indeed, a good number were first timers. We were, however, still together, brought there that weekend by the undying power of Star Trek, Gene's optimistic vision of our common destiny. His ideals and vision, as the Vulcan greeting goes, "live long and prosper."