Shatner Rules

A
charming
sip, mind you, so as not to disappoint my director.
    The play was a hit, and ran for nearly four hundred performances at the Booth Theatre on West Forty-fifth Street in New York. And I think it was during performance 399 that the tickle hit me in the throat again.
    I was doing a scene with my beloved costar Julie Harris (who tried her best to get Clurman to like me) when the tickle hit, and remembering my instructions to the prop guy, I sauntered on over to the desk for my throat-saving swig. I kept the coughs at bay as Julie delivered her line, opened the drawer of my desk, and produced the glass of water.
    The glass of water that had been placed in the desk nearly a year before.
RULE: Always Remember to Schedule a Follow-Up Meeting with the Prop Guy
    About half the water had evaporated, leaving a thick, white crust in its wake. At least it looked like a white crust, having been obscured by a year’s worth of theater dust. The water that was left was greenish, covered in a film, and—believe it or not—bubbling slightly. I felt like one of the witches in
Macbeth
with this toxic, green, bubbling brew in my hand.
    My stomach muscles tightened, to keep the coughs—and my lunch—down. Julie had finished her line and turned to me. If I opened my mouth then, I would have gotten two, three words out before everything fell apart in a hacking cough. I could almost hear Clurman warming up for his tirade.
    I put the glass to my lips and I swallowed every last drop of sludge. I placed the glass down, and slapped my hands on the desk—once, twice, three times. Julie saw what I had done and looked at me with horror. I could feel the thick water clinging to the sides of my throat as the sludge made its way down, contaminating my insides in its wake.
    I swallowed hard, opened my mouth, and . . . no tickle. Gone. The toxic brew had done its job. I was able to proceed. With aplomb. With dignity. With bearing. And . . . with . . . charm!
    (NOTE: What emerged from my insides shortly after the curtain was anything but charming.)

CHAPTER 6
RULE: It’s Good to Bury the Hatchet—So Your Former Costars Won’t Find It and Use It on You
    N ever go to bed angry. Unresolved anger can destroy even the strongest of relationships. And for God’s sake—unresolved anger has no business being at anyone’s wedding! And I’ve had four weddings. I’m an expert.
    Which brings me to the story of the marriage of my old
Star Trek
colleague George Takei, who played Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu.
    There’s been a great deal of enmity between George and me. He’s been saying mean things about me for nearly forty years now. That’s nearly Star Trek (Two) Generations! Criticizing me publicly, in every venue imaginable! He says that I have a “big, shiny, ego!” Well, actors have big egos. If mine is shiny, it’s because I tend to it very carefully and lovingly.
    Perhaps George’s needs a good polish.
    To be fair, George is not the only veteran of the USS
Enterprise
who has hard feelings. Walter Koenig has been vocal about his disdain for me, James Doohan was not a fan, and Nichelle Nichols told me—while I was interviewing her for my book
Star Trek Memories
—that she detested me. Set phasers to Awkward!
    All this animosity! I guess I could blame myself, but the things I really blame . . . are the Star Trek conventions.
    There, I said it.
    Now, the conventions have been good to me over the years, I enjoy going to them. I smile politely when a fellow comes up to me and asks for my autograph in the native Klingon tongue.
    (NOTE: When someone speaks to you in Klingon, say “
nuqjatlh?”
It’s Klingon for “huh?” That usually wraps up the conversation pretty fast.)
    But in the early days, I didn’t attend them. Wouldn’t go near them.
Star Trek
was a job I did for three years, it ended, I moved on. I fear my fellow cast members did not, and were hopelessly stuck in Stardate 2999.9 and operating on the Prime Directive of “Hate Bill.”
    The supporting cast, some of whom I wouldn’t see for days or even weeks at a time during our initial filming schedule due to the size of their roles, would later attend the conventions and be greeted with cheers. Fans would tell them that their characters should have been given more to do! Had their own series!
    Now, had they been the
stars
of
Star Trek,
they
would
have been there every day on set. Like I was. And Leonard. And DeForest Kelley. And maybe they would have gotten their