Leonard Nimoy was more than an actor, despite wanting to be mostly just that. For those of us in the days before Geek Culture was mainstream, he was the icon of our ideal. For those of us with autism, he was the hero to whom we all aspired to be. It certainly didn't hurt that he was an unorthodox crew member on a series where even he was slightly ridiculed for his difference, but accepted anyway. Most of us found the real world to be far less accommodating.
Nimoy was OG (Original Geek), and probably the most beloved of them exactly for how different his character was in the grand scheme of things. He was the token character who transcended his station and became the standout character on
Star Trek above almost all the others. People can talk about Kirk and Uhura and Sulu and Chekov with sly comments about their flaws as characters, but almost nobody spoke of Spock with even the faintest derision: he was the character who demanded respect and admiration simply by being who he was, and all because of the grandeur of the actor who played him with a gesture no greater than a twitch of an eyebrow.
Nimoy was to us as geeks what Bettie Page is to fetishism, Boris Karloff is to horror movies, and Humphrey Bogart to noir: an original icon. A character who broke the mold upon his emergence, making it impossible to follow in his footsteps without his imprimatur on their shoes.
When I heard of his passing, I was on a register, checking out a woman at work. She told me that a friend had ruined her day with some news, and upon hearing that news I almost dropped her stuff and said:
"WHAT? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" I knew he had been in the hospital for COPD, but I felt that he might pull through because he was still conscious and lucid. She then remarked: "Oh great, now I ruined your day too." I was beside myself and had to wait several interminable minutes to finish the goddamn Friday-afternoon business line before I could escape to the back and sat there for 10 minutes trying to maintain my composure. I hadn't been that hurt from a celebrity's death since Harold Ramis, again, another geek icon who was my favorite Ghostbuster, and who too left a massive psychic dent in the popular culture from the sheer size of the anguish unleashed on the internet in his wake.
Along with Christopher Reeve and Ramis, Nimoy was the last of the childhood heroes I had who really meant something powerful in my life. I took great comfort in his ubiquity and longevity: I always felt, like Williams, that he would be around for so long I wouldn't even have to think about the inevitability of his passing. He inspired me in numerous ways about how I wanted to navigate life, and comport myself amongst others, and how I wanted to fit within group dynamics. And I am quite positive that I am not the only one. I think that Nimoy was one of the few entertainers and pop culture icons to matter as much in his psychological influence on young and unusual people as the real scientists and heroes that have made their mark on history. I feel privileged to have been alive at such a time and been touched so directly.
As foolish as it might sound about a celebrity--one that I never met, BTW--his death truly and deeply
hurts. I think many of us lost a piece of ourselves, the kind that we attach to other people who mean a great deal to us both publicly and privately for whatever reason, and without whom we would not be who we are today. I know that eventually, I will get used to living in a world where he is not still working, appearing and walking as a living legend among us...and that thought hurts as much as anything else.
Live on and prosper, Mr. Nimoy. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for us.
P.S. I always loved that Nimoy remained current and popular. it made for some interesting curios. My favorite is this alternate (and in my opinion superior) video for Bruno Mars' "The Lazy Song":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dULOjT9GYdQ
