I have never been shy about my fandoms. Marvel, DC, Star Wars, Stargate, X-Files, the CW’s Flash, stuff on Disney Plus like The Mandalorian. I enjoy all the usual geeky sci-fi. None of that would be in my life without the first one that truly grabbed me. Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Like a lot of kids who grew up in the 80s and 90s, I lived on Saturday morning cartoons. Transformers. He-Man. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. All the standards. TNG was different. I found it on my own. No one in my house cared about sci-fi. My parents and younger siblings were into other things. Extended family too. I was the lone weirdo in love with starships.
I spent a lot of time in my room with a cheap TV that could barely pull in the local FOX affiliate. That station aired TNG. That is how it started. Me, alone, soaking it in, and realizing I felt less alone because of it.
When TNG ended in 1994, it was an event for me. The first show I followed that actually concluded while I was watching. I saw the finales of Cheers, Seinfeld, and MAS*H in syndication, but none of those hit like All Good Things… I cut out a newspaper article about the finale and kept it. Somehow I still have that clipping thirty years later. I do not have any of my Ninja Turtles, He-Man, or Transformers. The toys are gone. The newspaper is still here.
Now I am an adult who chases nostalgia. Re-release action figures on a shelf. Little hits of childhood in plastic form. I have pulled back for money reasons, but the itch is there.
So when Picard season 3 rolled toward its end, I expected another nostalgia hit. What I did not expect was to be dropped straight back into the skin of 13-year-old me. Not a quick rush. A sustained one. The kind that sneaks in, unlocks doors, and takes down a few walls you did not realize you built.
If you have seen season 3, you already know the moments. The return of familiar faces. The bridge of the Enterprise-D. Majel Barrett’s voice as the computer. Those details pulled me through time. I was a kid again, sitting too close to that flickering TV. And it did something I did not see coming. It helped.
The last couple of years have been heavy. Our son was born with arthrogryposis, which we did not know ahead of time. A month later we learned he also has nemaline myopathy. I do not have enough words for that kind of fear. I tried to carry it. I pushed it to the side and stayed steady for my wife, for Harrison, for our other kids. The weight did not care that I was pretending to be steady. It stayed.
Cracks started to show about six months ago. My grandmother got sick and passed away. She was my last living grandparent, and in my head she was just always going to be there. A few months later, my uncle, who meant a lot to me growing up, passed away too. Both on my mom’s side. Two hard hits in a row. I struggled more than I admitted.
There are days I sit on the floor playing with Harrison, and the sight of his left arm not moving drops an elephant on my shoulders. The guilt. The weight. It is a lot. I kept swallowing emotions, trying to be the guy who keeps the ship moving. Sometimes the only pressure release I gave myself was snapping. Get angry at the universe, then clamp it down again. Not healthy. Not helpful. Just human.
Season 3 of Picard gave me another release valve. I would never have guessed a TV show could do that. TNG always felt like company when I was a teenager. Data did not fit in, which made it easier when I felt like I did not either. As an adult, those characters still mean something. Seeing them again did not just deliver fan service. It reminded me I am still me under all the fear and responsibility. It helped me let a little air out of the pressure without taking it out on anyone I love.
I am not fixed. I am not pretending to be. I am a little better. That counts.
I will miss these characters when they are gone again. I am grateful they were there for me when I was a lonely kid with a rabbit-ears TV. I am grateful they showed back up now, when I needed the reminder. Call it nostalgia. Call it comfort. Call it a middle-aged sci-fi geek getting a moment to breathe. After two years of stress, I will take it.
So, thank you.
Found an old photo of my Star Trek 25th Anniversary PC game. A stack of 3.5″ floppies and that perfect line, “For IBM Tandy and 100% Compatibles.” It made me smile. Proof that this love has been here a long time.