Mr. Spock’s soul-searching son struggles with a classic Hollywood midlife crisis and emerges from his iconic dad’s shadow.
For Nimoy, avoidance was always the cure for dealing with stress. Drifting between careers, from self-destructive TV director to disenchanted entertainment lawyer, he woke up one morning in a sleeping bag in an empty apartment, freshly divorced and wondering how everything fell apart. After 30 years of pot-smoking escapism, the 40-something father of two finally sobered up and discovered he needed to reinvent himself, which meant an end to his miserable marriage and a new job as a substitute teacher in Santa Monica. With drugs no longer an option, he found shelter in sharpening his carnivorous dating skills by chasing tight-jeaned blondes at his weekly AA meetings. Perhaps in reaction to his childhood with (but mostly without) a workaholic and absentee father, connecting with his own children became the author’s primary concern. Worried by signs of hereditary addiction—his daughter was experimenting with pot and his son looked to be a budding shopaholic—Nimoy approached their uncertain futures with caution, teaching himself to cultivate affection. Soon, his life spun into a new direction: He entered a writers workshop, accepted a job as a film-production teacher and began penning this memoir. Peppered with sophisticated jabs at Leonard Nimoy followed by “See, I’m a better father than you were” anecdotes, the book’s opening chapters bubble with angst. But this is no Daddy Dearest; the narrative brilliantly mirrors the author’s progression toward awareness. Initially riddled with unrelieved tension and unexpressed feelings, the prose becomes more expansive and reflective as Nimoy’s self-realization unfolds.
Touching, humorous and in the end wise account of how a Hollywood brat transcended lifelong resentment of his father by learning to accept without blame.