Shatner Rules Read online

  WILLIAM SHATNER’S ROAST INSULTS & REBUTTALS

  Patton Oswalt held up a paper bag and said, “Settle a bet—act your way out of this.”

  I would, but I need to go pick up my two Emmys at the trophy polisher.

  “Bill, you are one of our greatest actors. And I think I’m quoting you correctly, right?”

  If I looked like I was enjoying myself at the roast, then I am indeed one of our greatest actors. Go ahead and quote me!

  “Bill, you have let yourself boldly go!”

  It’s called “packing on stature”!

  “What is that on your head?”

  My hair is actually writing its own autobiography, Captain’s Locks. I will reveal no spoilers in advance of publication.

  “The name Shatner sounds like the barbaric yop of a Viking’s cock as it splits a mighty elm into kindling that you built a roaring bonfire to cook meat over that you fill your belly with after you ass rape an ice giant.”

  Ironically, before we emigrated to Canada, the family name was “Barbaric Yop of a Viking’s Cock as It Splits a Mighty Elm into Kindling That You Built a Roaring Bonfire to Cook Meat over That You Fill Your Belly with after You Ass Rape an Ice Giant.” But my father found it too much to print on a business card.

  Lisa Lampanelli declared, “I’ve read your writing; it sucks out loud. Your next project should be a suicide note.”

  I’ll write Suicide Note after I write the book I Slept with Lisa Lampanelli.

  Nichelle “Lieutenant Uhura” Nichols from Star Trek, with whom I shared network television’s first interracial kiss, this time invited me to kiss her “black ass”!

  Sorry, Nichelle. If I’m going to put my lips on something that bitter and black, I would like a teaspoon of sugar and a side of biscotti.

  Finally, George Takei declared, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!”

  Well, I went home with my wife that night. I did, however, see George walking around later with a bridle and a bouquet of roses, so who knows what happened?

  George and I have had our ups and downs over the years. And I must say, he frightened me a little that evening. When he bellowed the “horse you rode in on” line, he had a scary glint in his eyes. It was either madness, the result of cataract surgery (in which case, George, I’m sorry I didn’t send a get-well card), or evidence that he has finally been replaced by a replicant. A replicant programmed to “Hate Shatner!” The vitriol that spewed out of George’s mouth was terrifying; he has overwhelming rage at me. He has, for many years, been at a heightened state of Shatnerphobia.

  After three hours—three long, agonizing hours—it was my turn at the microphone. I would get the final say after a long evening of me (and my horse) being drilled unmercifully about my acting, my hair, my weight, my acting, my hair, and my weight. And my scrotum.

  I would need a big opening, a huge joke, and one that announced that William Shatner is here, and he’s not going to take it anymore. So I opened with . . . “How’s the hair?”

  Whew. The laugh was huge, and the laughs kept coming. I cut all my roasters off at the knees with a variety of lacerating jibes and withering bon mots, eventually building to “Who the hell are you people? Do you know who I am? I’m William Tiberius Shatner!”

  I gave it as good as I got it, and everyone got theirs. Even the horses they rode in on!

  Soon it was over. As the advertisers exclaimed, “The Shat hit the fans.” I wondered if my “yes” should maybe have been a “no,” or even a “NOOOO!!!!”

  “The Comedy Central Roast of William Shatner” was one of that network’s highest rated programs, and it was eventually nominated for an Emmy for Outstanding Variety, Music, or Comedy Special. (We lost to a Tony Bennett concert special. I wonder how many jokes were made about his hair?) Most important, the show introduced me to many new young fans.

  What I learned most of all from “The Comedy Central Roast of William Shatner” is that people have some very definite ideas and feelings about this William Shatner character. He’s larger than life, he’s omnipresent, he’s a narcissist, his acting and hair and singing talents are questionable at best, he’s a shill, he’s a comedy, he’s a tragedy, his scrotum sags with age, he speaks . . . very . . . strange . . . ly.

  How do I handle all that?

  RULE: If You’re Gonna Be William Shatner, You’ll Need a Lot of Scrotum.

  CHAPTER 2

  RULE: To Be Shatner, You Must Know Shatner

  The jokes at the roast were great, but a tad misinformed. If you’re going to joke about William Shatner you should at least know some very basic facts about William Shatner.

  1. I was born on March 22, 1931. And if you were able to quickly Itranslate that number into the correct Star Date, I would like you to put this book down and go get yourself some sunshine.

  2. I was born in Montreal in a neighborhood called Cote Saint-Luc. It’s pronounced “Coat Saint Luck.” (It’s not, but like most French speakers, we love any opportunity to correct your pronunciation with our own splendid and sexy French tones.)

  3. My grandfather, Wolf, changed the family name to Shatner from Schattner. “Wolf” was a creation of his, too, because it sounded much cooler than his birth name, Sheldon.

  4. I started acting when I was six, and have never gotten a paycheck for anything other than performing.

  5. In college, I appeared in many dramas and musicals. My comedy work was limited to my academic record.

  6. My first film was a 1951 Canadian film noir titled The Butler’s Night Off. I’ve never seen it.

  7. I won the Tyrone Guthrie Award at Canada’s Stratford Shakespeare Festival in the 1950s. I recently misplaced it up the backside of one of my roasters.

  8. In 1954, I played the character of Ranger Bob on the Canadian version of The Howdy Doody Show.

  9. One of my earliest television roles was playing Billy Budd in a live staging of the classic, opposite Basil Rathbone. Rathbone was forever associated with playing Sherlock Holmes. Can you imagine that? Being forever linked with an iconic character?

  10. Throughout the 1950s, I acted in a variety of live television plays. Live TV was the norm back then, and there was no risk of a Janet Jackson Super Bowl halftime show moment.

  11. My first big studio movie was 1958’s The Brothers Karamazov, which also featured Yul Brynner, Claire Bloom, and Lee J. Cobb.

  12. I once got into a fistfight on stage during the Broadway run of The World of Susie Wong with Australian actor Ron Randell. For fifty years now, he’s ignored my challenges for a rematch! Coward! [EDITOR’S NOTE: Mr. Randell died in 2005.]

  13. Since then, I’ve never, ever punched another actor. (Do birthday punches for Candice Bergen count? She seemed to think so!)

  14. I starred in two classic Twilight Zone episodes, “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” and “Nick of Time,” both written by Richard Matheson. I also acted in Alfred Hitchcock Presents and The Outer Limits. Before reality programs, TV networks seemed preoccupied with “quality.”

  15. I turned down the title role in Dr. Kildare because I didn’t want to get bogged down with a series. Also, I faint at the sight of fake blood.

  16. Eventually, I came around to the idea of doing television, and after the network nixed the first Star Trek pilot featuring Jeffrey Hunter as Captain Pike, I was hired to star in the second pilot as Captain Kirk. But enough with the obscure trivia, moving on . . .

  17. Just kidding. Star Trek never really caught on with audiences, ran for three seasons, and was canceled. I wish I had taken notes at the time, because you people sure do have a lot of questions about it.

  18. In the 1970s, I really began to get into horses. I could talk about horses all day. I raise Saddlebreds, a uniquely American breed of horse that emerged in Kentucky around two hundred years ago and is used mainly
by rich plantation owners. They are known as “five-gaited horses,” meaning that in addition to the walk, trot, and canter, they also do the ambling gaits known as the slow gait and the rack. Seeing one of these animals in action is not unlike watching a ballerina at work. I’m also a champion reiner. What’s reining? Well, it’s a champion riding competition that involves . . . Oh, sorry. I’m being told you don’t have all day. More on this later.

  19. For many years, I suffered from tinnitus. Now, it only flares up when I don’t want to listen to all those questions about Star Trek.

  20. In the 1970s, I began doing television commercials. I’ve done hundreds. And if you would like to reserve this space for your product or service in the paperback version of this book, please call the publisher. We can work out some sort of arrangement.

  21. In 1975, I starred in a television series called Barbary Coast, in which I played a nineteenth-century government agent and master of disguise. I think it was a great show, but I notice I’m never invited to speak at Barbary Coast conventions.

  22. I have written nearly thirty books, and my autobiography, Up Till Now, was a best-seller in 2008. You don’t need to have read that one before reading this one. But you should definitely buy it. And a backup copy. And the audiobook, too. Just because.

  23. Ten years after the original series was canceled, in 1979, Kirk and company hit the big screen with Star Trek: The Motion Picture, directed by film legend Robert Wise. Its success led to several more hit films, one of which I directed, and many more Star Trek spin-off TV series.

  24. In the 1980s, I played the title role in T.J. Hooker, a hit series about a by-the-books LA cop who was always quick to use his nightstick while kicking asses. The final season moved to Chicago, where I was quick to use my overcoat to keep my ass from freezing off.

  25. I own a horse ranch in Kentucky where I raise my Saddlebreds. In order to give the place a true plantation feel, I employ many non-paid interns.

  26. From 1989 to 1996, I hosted Rescue 911, a reality-based program about 911 emergencies, which managed to save 350 lives over the course of its run.

  27. A documentary I produced, How William Shatner Changed the World, aired on the History Channel and was nominated for an Emmy. A different documentary, How William Shatner Rocked Your World, is a pay-per-view thing you can watch in your hotel room.

  28. Much has been made of the supposed fortune I earned as spokesman for Priceline.com. And if you are crass enough to bring up this fact in my presence, I will buy and sell you ten times over!

  29. Since 2001, I have been married to a lovely woman named Elizabeth. No joke here, folks.

  30. After seeing a Priceline commercial, David E. Kelley created the role of Denny Crane for me. Boston Legal ran for several seasons and earned me some of the best notices of my career, along with two Emmy awards. It was maybe the best thing to come out of my Priceline work, second only to my massive fortune.

  31. Much has been made of my not appearing in J.J. Abrams’s reboot of the Star Trek franchise. More should be made out of the fact that Kirk lands on Delta Vega in the exact location that older Spock is. Come on! It’s a huge planet! As giant as that coincidence!

  32. I starred in the sitcom $#*! My Dad Says, the first ever show launched from a Twitter feed. A group called the Parents Television Council was outraged over the title. I said to them, “Don’t get your [redacted] in a [redacted]!”

  CHAPTER 3

  RULE: Busy Is Measured in Units of Shatner

  A lot of people reading this book (or listening to the audiobook, in which case I would like to deliver a sexy “hello”) want to know the rules of being William Shatner, looking at this tome as a map to certain truths of self-Shatnerhood.

  Well, if there is one rule you must follow on your scramble up the pyramid of Shatner’s hierarchy, it’s this: Stay busy.

  So busy, in fact, that you won’t have time to sit around and read a book about how busy I am. Put the book down now! (Although you will need to read on to know how to navigate being as busy as I am. This is indeed a conundrum! Keep reading? Fail! Stop reading? Fail! What are you going to do?)

  RULE: Don’t Let Shatner Get into Your Head!

  (Even I Follow This One!)

  Where was I? Oh yes, sorry—I am an extraordinarily busy man. I don’t have time to write this book, much less edit it. That’s why things may jump around a bit here in the narrative of Shatner Rules. Look at it as “Shatner playing with the space-time continuum” for those of you who need that sci-fi angle.

  Here, let’s examine a typical day on my calendar.

  March 7, 2011. I’m using the Earth calendar now, but some of you outer space buffs will remember that as the next-to-last day of the final voyage of the Space Shuttle Discovery. After twenty-seven years, she was being decommissioned.

  My day started off normally: breakfast, exercise, going over lines, and politely asking fans to vacate my lawn. But the crew of the Discovery started off their day with a message. From me.

  I had the honor, the distinct honor, of providing the wake-up call for the astronauts that morning. This is what I said to the heroes as they orbited our planet, as the theme music from Star Trek played.

  Space, the Final Frontier.

  These have been the voyages of the Space Shuttle Discovery.

  Her thirty-year mission? To seek out new science, to build new outposts, to bring nations together on the Final Frontier.

  To boldly go and do what no spacecraft has done before.

  (Normally, the only person who gets woken up to my voice is my wife, Elizabeth, and then I’m usually saying something far less eloquent, like “Dear God! Hit the snooze button!”)

  It was truly a moving moment, especially since I’ve been involved with NASA from the very early days of the space program. And now I was asked to say “goodbye” on the final voyage of the Discovery. It was a milestone in my life, and in the life of the American space program.

  And I forgot all about it.

  I was just so busy that day. I had to be reminded that the message I had recorded a few days previous was being played for the crew that morning. It was in all the papers, but who has time to read papers?

  My busy days are measured in degrees of Shatners. And March 7, 2011, was certainly “two Shatners,” if not “three Shatners.” (A four-Shatner day would make your head explode.)

  For one thing, on March 7, 2011, I had just returned from the Emerald City Comicon, a huge sci-fi/fantasy/comic convention in Seattle, Washington. It’s like most conventions, but since it’s in Seattle, everyone’s homemade Romulan outfits are constructed from flannel. There, I spoke to thousands of Star Trek fans, asked questions, signed autographs, and tried to avoid the rain. (Did I mention it was in Seattle?)

  My Star Trek convention appearances have made me a better all-around performer. I get to improvise in front of the audience. I have to inform and access my memories, but also entertain. It’s comedic riff after riff after riff.

  It’s a juggling act, but I never lose sight of the fact that the people sitting before me have put down money to see me, and that I’ve got to give them my best! If I slight them in the most minute fashion, I am slighting myself. I have always strove to the furthest of my ability to perform my best in front of an audience.

  RULE: On Occasion, Be Sincere

  That being said—Star Trek was many, many years ago, and no, I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking when I hit that switch and was talking into that painted button and that Romulan did the thing. And no, I can’t break down the genetic differences between the Romulans, Klingons, and Vulcans. And no, I won’t sign “Live Long and Prosper” on your boob.

  (That last one has nothing to do with my memory, but more with the fact that I am a happily married man. Although while walking around Pike Place Market during the Seattle visit, a woman working in a dr
ied fruit and nut stall asked me to sign her “nut sack.” I had to oblige.)

  I hope that fans can understand the fact that I don’t remember a lot of that stuff. My memoir Star Trek Memories was published in 1993, years closer to the events in question. That might be worth a purchase. Buy two, since there’s no audiobook.

  My fading memory concerning the show is the reason I always print out this standard answer sheet for my Star Trek conventions for whenever I get stumped. It’s a cheat sheet and the answers work for many different kinds of questions. Go ahead; ask me any question, your answer will be here:

  WILLIAM SHATNER’S STANDARD STAR TREK CONVENTION ANSWERS

  “Leonard, definitely. The other four? Not so much.”

  “Well, that’s a question for Gene Coon.”

  “Probably ‘City on the Edge of Forever,’ and you should watch it yourself to find out more!”

  “Nichelle. Twice.”

  “That would be ‘The Corbomite Maneuver,’ which I don’t have to explain since you’ve all seen it. Next question.”

  “When I was a teenager. Don’t give up hope.”

  “Third door on the right.”

  “Blue.”

  What else was happening on March 7, 2011? In addition to recovering from the Comicon, I was preparing for the Genies, which are the Canadian equivalent of the Oscars.

  Why did they ask me? Well, the Oscars had tried to go “young” and “hip” with James Franco and Anne Hathaway a few weeks previous, and the results were such that the Genies decided to go “old” and “me.” Either way, the Genies were a thrilling night in which Denis Villeneuve’s Incendies won Best Picture over Richard J. Lewis’s Barney’s Version. (In addition to going “old,” the Genies also differ from the Oscars by going “hopelessly obscure.”)