THE HILL TOP CONVERSATION CONTINUES.
Me: I'm not sure what you're doing up here in the dark by yourself, but after you're done doing it, I'm pretty sure you're not going to have any interest in doing it with me.
Shatner: I'm afraid you're right.
THE NEXT DAY.
There is a gathering at the "Old Homestead" consisting of a few of my family members and Hollywood mega-stars. Shatner and I have become an item.
Shatner: You made quite an impression on everyone last night, dancing around on the hill, like you did.
Me: I don't remember that.
Shatner: Well, you did it, and everyone saw you.
Me: It was pitch black. You and I were alone. No one could have seen me.
Shatner: No, it wasn't. No, we weren't. And, yes, they did.
Marcia [A woman from work who I really like but don't know very well]: Shatner was being a real butt last night.
Me: Yeah, he does that.
Marcia: I want to go to McDonald's, but Shatner doesn't. He's being such a bitch.
Me: I'll ask him. He'll go with me. Hey, Shatner, go to McDonalds with us.
Shatner: OK. Sausage.
Me: Sausage to sausage level II.
Shatner: Ha ha ha! What about Master Tao?
Me: I'm afraid I'm not up on Japanese history.
Shatner: You were up on the hill.
Me: That's different.
Strangely, in this dream, Shatner is two feet taller than I am. I'm 5'4" in real life, and I happen to know that Shatner ain't no 7'4," because I met him once in real life. Here's the photo of us together, so you can see our relative heights.
Incidentally, the photo above also appears in my first blog ever, Me and William Shatner. Try as I might, I cannot get back onto the dashboard of that blog. Can you imagine? Locked out of my own blog! In that sense, I'm like Captain Kirk, trapped in the center of a distant planet, screaming, "KHHHAAAAAAAAAN!" Except I'm screaming "BLLLLAAAAAAAAAHHHHG!" If you want to see it, click here...
But back to the thing about Shatner's and my relative heights. I remember my dad saying, back when I was in elementary school, back when the original Star Trek TV show had just gone into syndication and was on after school, "William Shatner is so short, he has to stand on a box." Of course, I didn't question it. Dad was always right.
My dad was sensitive about his own height, which he didn't feel measured up, so he was always pointing out the big deal guys like Shatner, who were "short" like him. Actually, my dad wasn't all that short. He was 5'9," but he always lied and said he was 5'11," the implication being, "I'm almost six feet tall." As if six feet was the ultimate standard. It was the perfect mark of maleness, and he had missed it. WHATEVER!
Now the dream about Shatner is fading. Fading. I'm getting sleepy. Maybe I'll have another one.
Caio!
