Tuesday night. The quietest night of the week at Smokin’ Joe’s shed with only himself and Jimmy Two Fires, sot by the wood stove mangling the English language.
We were interrupted by a brief cellphone conversation and Smokin’ Joe apologized for the disturbance. I was fine with it but something set off a deep memory for Jimmy Two Fires and he launched into a soliloquy with more hindsight than his precariously tilted ball cap could possibly store.
“When I was growing up there was only one guy with a cellphone. Captain James T. Kirk. Some kind of flip phone with only one ring tone on it.”
“Always had it charged up and got reception too,” added Smokin’ Joe.
Mmm… alien women
“‘Cept one time,” continued Jimmy Two Fires, “when he was on a beach. Whenever he landed on a planet he was either scrapping with some lunatic or falling for some alien woman.”
We all paused for moment. Mmm… alien women. Jimmy Two Fires now spoke in hushed tones. “It was a whole planet of Amazon women and they had him cornered down by the beach on a sand bar…”
“How many of ’em?” burst out Smokin’ Joe.
“About a dozen!” roared Jimmy Two Fires.
“What was their economy based on? Did they trade with other planets?” asked Smokin’ Joe innocently enough, and rightly so. Any decent television script should have a strong and plausible premise.
“Their main export was small, leather loincloths and sea-shell bikini tops. Neither were built very well. In the off-season they did roaring business amongst themselves making and applying coconut suntan lotion,” replied Jimmy Two Fires triumphantly. He had quite a memory for details.
“So they had little William Shatner cornered and he was trying to read the situation. They crept closer and closer… towering above him. He whips out his cell phone. ‘Enterprise.’ Nothing happens.
‘There’s… frig all… reception here’
“He utters the least famous words in the history of Star Trek in that distinct style of his… ‘There’s… frig all… reception here,’ then snaps the phone shut, leans back for a side arm throw and whips it like a skipping stone across the calm, turquoise water. It does about 10 straight, long skips on the water then curves to the right for six more quick hops before it sinks. It was a great throw for anyone, even the alien Amazon women were impressed. Right before they piled on him.”
“Then what happened?” Smokin’ Joe cried.
Kirk slouches in his captain’s chair, leg hung over side, head propped up in his hand. Sulking like a youngster.
“The show went to commercial break. When it came on again, Scotty was in the transporter room. While Kirk was materializing he was hauling his pants up from down around his knees and he was flipping out. ‘Jeez, Scotty! What are you doing b’y? I never called you.’
“‘We got worried,’ Scotty said, ‘you were gone a long time so we just beamed you up.’
“Kirk stormed off. In the next scene he’s stomping around on the bridge, Spock and Bones are sharing a private joke, smirking, yet keeping their distance. Kirk slouches in his captain’s chair, leg hung over side, head propped up in his hand. Sulking like a youngster.”
Caught in her almond eyes
“The communications officer, Lieutenant Uhura, who was sporting the world’s first bluetooth headset, cast him a concerned glance. She stood up, smoothed her pale-blue mini-skirt with both hands and sashayed over to him. Kirk noticed her boots first, and slowly looked up, way up, until he got to the mini-skirt, gulped, and kept looking up until he was caught in her almond eyes, framed by a massive ‘fro.
“‘Captain,’ she purred, and handed him a new phone. ‘The future is friendly.’
“Everybody watched her wiggle back to her chair. Halfway there she glanced over her shoulder, looked at Kirk, did the universal hand-to-the-head phone thing and mouthed the words ‘Call me.’
“Kirk straightened right up in his chair, smiled and said, ‘Steady as she goes b’ys.’”
“You really saw that?” asked Smokin Joe.
“Yep,” replied Jimmy Two Fires. “Came on right before the hockey game. Boston and Montreal.”
“Who won?” Smokin Joe asked with a renewed concern.
“Boston.” declared Jimmy Two Fires. “Three to nothing. Gerry Cheevers got a shut out.”
And that’s how we knew he was telling the truth the whole time.