"Star Trek?" I asked her. "Really?" "What?" she demanded, bending unnaturally black eyebrows together. "There are two kinds of people in the universe, Molly," I said. "Star Trek fans and Star Wars fans. This is shocking." She sniffed. "This is the post-nerd-closet world, Harry. It's okay to like both." "Blasphemy and lies," I said."
Yeah, the whole family knows. It's no big deal. One night at dinner I said, 'Mom, you know the forbidden love that Spock has for Kirk? Well, me too.' It was easier for her to understand that way.
"Romulan or Vulcan?' the ushers asked each guest. Marion, who had been poised to say 'friends of the bride' had responded to the question with an open-mouthed stare, and Jay Omega answered, 'Klingon!" which got them seats in the back row of the Romulan side." --
In those days, men proved their strength and manliness by being well mannered, helpful, and gentle. Just how gentle they could be under trying circumstances, how civilised they could be in a harsh world, that was the measure of a man.
Kirk: How close will we come to the nearest Klingon outpost if we continue on our present course? Chekov: Vun parsec, sir. Close enough to smell them. Spock: That is illogical, ensign. Odors cannot travel through the vacuum of space. Chekov: I vas making a little joke, sir. Spock: Extremely little, ensign.
Nor does she attend conventions any more: she's seen enough kids dressed up like vampires and bunnies and , and especially like the nastier villains of Alphinland. She really can't bear one more inept impersonation of Milzreth of the Red Hand - yet another apple-cheeked innocent in quest of his inner wickedness.