There are certain constants in life.
They are the people and places, ideas and objects that provide tone and texture to what we experience. For me, Leonard Nimoy is one of those constants. From TV to comic books, record albums to my own toy box, Nimoy has been a consistent presence in my life. The syndicated voyages of the starship Enterprise played endlessly throughout my childhood, with Nimoy’s Mister Spock perpetually raising a wry eyebrow or his right hand in the Vulcan salute. If he wasn’t acting as ambassador to the technicolor future of the 23rd century, he was narrating the tenuous and uncertain present on the groundbreaking paranormal investigation show In Search Of… or popping up in cameos on Night Gallery or Columbo. He sang, wrote poetry and performed in his own one-man plays. Hell, the man sold me cereal. Growing up, Nimoy was ubiquitous.
It was Mego’s line of Star Trek action figures that ultimately won me over. The toys arrived at the perfect time, tying in nicely to the Saturday morning cartoon. The ability to play along with the action unfolding on the screen was an exciting prospect, and the chance to BE Spock was impossible to resist. Kirk may have been the Captain, but Spock was my prime mover, commanding the others and taking point on away missions. If anybody was going to be teaming up with Mego Spider-Man or be invited back to the Hall of Justice, it was going to be Spock. Then IT happened.
The arrival of Star Wars in 1977 was a cultural game-changer. It re-defined the science-fiction genre (“space fantasy” thank you very much) and made Star Trek look unexpectedly tame and dated by comparison. Young Anthill was as guilty as anybody for changing sides — it was impossible not to get swept up in the mania. Nimoy and his rubber ears just couldn’t compare to Sith Lords, Death Stars and the power of the Force. The crew of the Enterprise saddled up for their first cinematic outing in 1979’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture but it was too little, too late.
Mego Corp, still smarting from its decision to pass on the Star Wars toy license, eagerly snapped up the rights to produce toys for Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Unfortunately for Mego, the film was a dud at the box office and the toys stiffed at retail. It was another nail in the company’s coffin, but not all together undeserved. While Mego’s Trek figures had much better likenesses than Kenner’s figures, one thing they didn’t have was decent paint. In a cost-cutting measure Mego eliminated the paint app that provided whites to the figure’s eyes, imbuing the line with a mute and somnambulistic quality that I could never get past. Needless to say, this particular Spock never crossed over into my Star Wars universe.
I stopped playing with toys around that time. Teenage Anthill was more interested in comics, records and girls, and I spent my disposable income on the former while pining for the latter. The various plastic incarnations of Spock passed me by, although I maintained a soft spot for the Vulcan. The Star Trek films were on cable constantly, and reruns of the original series in syndication ensured Nimoy remained one of the most familiar faces in my life. I mean, I must have watched him die 100 times the summer ST II: Wrath of Khan debuted on HBO — that’s a connection I don’t share with many people!
It wasn’t until Playmates picked up the license and began producing classic Trek product in 1995 that I took a renewed interest in the toys. I sought out and bought the Bridge Crew playset, welcoming Spock and the gang back to my toy shelves after a fifteen-year absence. It turned out that Playmates loved the Science Officer as much as fans did, and Spock received multiple figures during the lines seven-year run-voyage. They were fun little figures — the likenesses were not the best but the toys were cheap and plentiful, ensuring much Trek goodness for all.
In 2004, Art Asylum took up the reigns. While the Playmates line had a cartoony appeal, AA’s newer offerings went with a more realistic look. The quality of the sculpt and paint is notable for the period, providing consumers a high-quality collectible at a toy aisle price. My only gripe was the size — for whatever reason, Star Trek figures are never in 6″ scale, which is my scale of choice. Sigh. This means my Trek figures are perpetually separated from the rest of my collection, trapped in an oversized and ungainly world of their own. It’s not a deal-breaker, but it makes those childhood Spock/Spider-Man team-ups look mighty strange.
DST and EMCE Toys surprised fans when they reissued the original Mego figures in 2007. It was amazing to see the toys that had grown worn and ratty in my possession suddenly bright and new again. They even did Mego one better by releasing previously-unissued crew-members Chekov and Sulu. Of course it was Spock that was the star of the wave to me. The gold piping on the cuffs, the silver foil of the Starfleet chevron, the baby-blue of his phaser and communicator — it all came flooding back to me then, the joy and excitement of facing the next exciting adventure alongside a favorite childhood companion. hey, isn’t that’s what toys are all about?
Leonard Nimoy was far more than Spock. The man was accomplished in ways few of us could dream. His legacy will only grow, with a lifetime of unique and thoughtful work for new generations to discover. While I never had the pleasure of meeting him in person, I can take a moment to acknowledge what his presence meant. And not just to me, but to the thousands of others who joined him in exploring strange new worlds, and in seeking out new life and new civilizations. Whether in the far reaches of space or the intimate terrain of the human soul, Nimoy was a benevolent guide who offered wisdom, understanding and a willingness to play the outsider to bring us all together. Thank you, Leonard, for everything. You will be missed.
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