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Hard Landing

If an American jumps out of an airplane, you can't sell him a parachute until after he hits the ground. [Donald Kingsbury, "The Moon Goddess and the Son", 1979]

I won't mince words — President Donald Trump terrifies me.

He strikes me as a liar and a bully and a fraud. I expect him to do tremendous, brutal damage to the United States of America: political damage, economic damage, environmental damage, educational damage, judicial damage, and emotional damage. If he's successful in a quarter of what he intends, we'll be decades recovering from the wounds he inflicts.

But in one respect, he might just be the best thing to happen to America since the Vietnam War. To continue the quote above:

Americans are manic freaks who slack off suicidally between crises and then work their asses to a bone to meet a crisis after it has bashed them in the face — all the time bitching bitterly that no one ever told them that the fist was on the way.

In the days leading up to the election I was almost too discouraged to vote. I told people, "I've been given a choice between a broken leg and lung cancer." When the lung cancer actually won, I was physically ill. I seriously considered swearing off voting altogether, on the basis that neither party had anything left to offer me. As an American, I was slacking off.

Years back when H. Ross Perot ran for President, I told my wife, "It'd almost be worth having him win, just to shake the country up." I even thought about voting for Perot, although I considered him a crackpot candidate. Perot lost decisively — not even one electoral vote.

But Trump didn't lose. And now I'm reading the news, and remembering what I said about Perot: After Trump's travel ban, the ACLU got donations in one weekend amounting to what they usually get in six years. Government employees, officially muzzled, have started dozens of protest blogs. Marches and protests have been organized all over the country. Members of the mainstream press have publicly called Trump a liar.

We've hit the ground without a parachute, and now we're trying to use fractured arms to put splints on shattered legs. But we're trying to stand, fighting to stand — I haven't seen or heard of this much political activism in America since the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War protests. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have believed it possible.

People in the Streets

In 2004, in Ukraine, a country roughly the size of Texas with roughly the population of California, millions of people believed that Viktor Yanukovych stole the November 21 presidential election through massive voter fraud. Claims included voter intimidation and fraudulent counts; the opposition candidate was even poisoned before the election.

In 2004, millions of Americans believed that George W. Bush stole the November 2 presidential election through massive voter fraud, particularly through manipulation of electronic voting machines. The former CEO of Diebold (builder of voting machines) was quoted as having said he would see that Ohio delivered its electoral votes to Bush; sure enough, Bush took Ohio.

All over the Ukraine, people marched into the streets within hours of the announced results. An estimated 500,000 people gathered in Kiev alone on November 23 — that is, roughly one out of every ninety people in the entire nation marched past the Ukraine parliament just two days after the election. Later protests included up to a million people; it's estimated that 18% of Ukrainians participated in active protests. By mid-December the election had been invalidated; a new election pronounced opposition candidate Viktor Yushchenko the winner.

All over the U.S., the internet went insane within hours of the announced results; the online complaints lasted for months. Statistical analysis said that the voting discrepancies between precincts with Diebold voting machines and those without were wildly improbable. On the internet, it seemed hardly anyone under thirty believed the results. But where were the warm-body protesters, the people in the streets? I think a few college students went out with signs, but most of them stayed in their rooms, at their keyboards — like their parents. The 2004 U.S. election results stood.

After 2004, I thought the days of American street activism were over. A little former Soviet nation, where journalists allegedly could be murdered for reporting government corruption, had thoroughly outshone the United States of America. Oh, sure, there were Million Man and Million Woman marches and others like them, but they were media events, carefully orchestrated and heavily publicized — and not all that effective, from what I've seen.

Standing Up, Speaking Out

But Trump has sparked more and bigger protests — not just on the internet — in his first weeks than I believed America could muster any more:

The Women's March the day after Inauguration Day, at 3-5 million people the largest one-day protest in American history. The various protests about Trump's travel ban. The Day Without Immigrants. The upcoming A Day Without a Woman strike (March 8) and the March For Science protest (April 22). Many, many others; so many that there's a Wikipedia page for "Protests against Donald Trump."

(Okay, there's a "Protests against Barack Obama" page, too — but it wasn't created until January 22, 2017, two days after Trump's inauguration; the Trump page, by contrast, dates back to March 13, 2016, nearly eight months before Trump's election.)

The crisis has come; we've duly accepted our bash in the face; now we're scrambling. People are angry about Trump and his plans and his lies, and they're marching in the streets, donating to Planned Parenthood and the ACLU, calling and writing their elected representatives. We've hit the ground hard; now we're damned well ready for a parachute. I know I've made more public statements about politics and science in the last few months than in the preceding three decades — and I'm not planning to stop.

If educated Americans are willing to march again, to put warm bodies and placards in the streets to frighten the politicians, then there's at least one clear benefit to a Trump presidency. How long will it last? I don't know; maybe no longer than Trump's time in office.

But two generations of Americans to whom the Civil Rights movement and the Vietnam protests are just documentaries on PBS or the History Channel will have seen America's people march once more, will have heard America's voice in the streets — and, I hope, will remember.

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A message to the Honorable Asa Hutchinson, Governor of Arkansas, regarding the Arkansas Unborn Child Protection from Dismemberment Abortion Act

Dear Governor Hutchinson:

Two different articles about you on the front page of my newspaper today, 2017/01/27.  A quote from each:

"[Gov.] Hutchinson said the effort, Reading Initiative for Student Excellence Arkansas, or RISE Arkansas, will seek to build a culture of reading."

"Gov. Asa Hutchinson signed into law a bill banning an abortion procedure known as dilation and evacuation."

Governor Hutchinson, would you consider starting that "culture of reading" by reading about the connection between abortion laws and maternal mortality?  For instance, this report on the National Institutes of Health website: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2709326/

Or you could read articles about how to perform "home abortion," the articles teenage women will turn to once your new Unborn Child Protection Act takes effect.  Home-abortion instructions are readily available on the internet, you know, unlike 1973 when Roe vs. Wade was decided.  And young people know the internet better than they know their schoolbooks.  Girls no longer have to whisper to each other in the back halls to get abortion information.

In fact, I timed myself:  I needed less than 42 seconds to find and open not only an article on "Best Home Remedies for Abortion" but also a detailed 4-minute Youtube video on how to perform a coat-hanger abortion at home.  A Youtube video, for pity's sake, about antiseptic use of a sharpened wire, with the Rondo from Mozart's Horn Concerto #4 as sprightly accompaniment.  And an article listing commonly-available abortifacients, not just herbal remedies like cohosh or pennyroyal, but absolutely-impossible-to-regulate methods such as high-dose vitamin C.

As for myself, I hate the very idea of abortion, but the Unborn Child Protection Act grieves me deeply.  Instead of dangerous legislation, let us reduce the abortion rate by reducing the unwanted-pregnancy rate:  by intelligent sex education (not just abstinence training) and education about the risks and effectiveness of various types of birth control.

If the Act is allowed to take effect, Governor Hutchinson, young Arkansan women will die, by their own hands, at the hands of helpful friends, at the hands of doctors operating illegally.  I hope that you will reconsider your position and allow the inevitable court challenges to proceed without opposition from you or the Attorney General.

Sincerely,

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Greeting 2017

A lot of people have remarked what a rough year 2016 has been for celebrity deaths. I was pretty shocked myself by the sudden deaths of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. And Gene Wilder was, flat out, one of my personal all-time favorites, up there with Jimmy Stewart and Judy Garland and Katharine Hepburn.

But Judi Dench is still acting, and so is Harrison Ford. Paul Simon released a new album last year, with Bobby McFerrin singing backup; it debuted at #3 on the Billboard charts. I expect Sue Grafton to have another Kinsey Millhone mystery out this year. In fact, I imagine this is the first time in history when so many people who've passed their first half-century are alive and productive — when so many people with fifty-, sixty-, and even seventy-year careers are still creative and successful.

I decided to celebrate a few of my own favorites, people over 50 who survived to greet 2017. A number of them have retired, but the overwhelming majority of these people are still working: writers, actors, singers, musicians, researchers, activists, and more. I thought at first I'd name fifteen or twenty, but one name led to another, and another, and before I knew it I had well over a hundred.

Let's not fail to appreciate the many, many people we didn't lose last year. These, as I said, are some — not all! — of my favorites; feel free to mention any of your own favorites I've passed over.

Russell Crowe, 52 years old Matthew Broderick, 54 Jodie Foster, 54 Winton Marsalis, 55 Neil Gaiman, 56 Kenneth Branagh, 56 Emma Thompson, 57 Randy Travis, 57 Neal Stephenson, 57 Maya Lin, 57 Tim Burton, 58 Michelle Pfeiffer, 58 Ellen DeGeneres, 58 Tom Hanks, 60 Mel Gibson, 60 Whoopi Goldberg, 61 Ron Howard, 62 Lawrence Watt-Evans, 62 Denzel Washington, 62 Kathleen Kennedy, 63 Alfred Molina, 63 Nanci Griffith, 63 Dan Aykroyd, 64 Kim Stanley Robinson, 64 Kurt Russell, 65 Geoffrey Rush, 65 Bill Murray, 66 Sissy Spacek, 67 Billy Joel, 67 Sigourney Weaver, 67 Keith Carradine, 67 Bonnie Raitt, 67 Meryl Streep, 67 John Carpenter, 68 James Taylor, 68 Billy Crystal, 68 Samuel L. Jackson, 68 Emmylou Harris, 69 Maddy Prior, 69 Elton John, 69 Stephen King, 69 Arlo Guthrie, 69 Cher, 70 Tommy Lee Jones, 70 Linda Ronstadt, 70 John Prine, 70 Liza Minelli, 70 Sally Field, 70 Steven Spielberg, 70 Steve Martin, 71 Helen Mirren, 71 Eric Clapton, 71 Goldie Hawn, 71 Michael Douglas, 72 Sam Elliott, 72 Frank Oz, 72 Joni Mitchell, 73 Michael Palin, 73 Penny Marshall, 73 Carole King, 74 Paul McCartney, 74 Barbra Streisand, 74 C.J. Cherryh, 74 Geneviève Bujold, 74 Harrison Ford, 74 Garrison Keillor, 74 Aretha Franklin, 74 Faye Dunaway, 75 Joan Baez, 75 Bob Dylan, 75 Simon & Garfunkel, 75 (each) John Hurt, 76 Sue Grafton, 76 Patrick Stewart, 76 René Auberjonois, 76 Ringo Starr, 76 Judy Collins, 77 John Cleese, 77 Lily Tomlin, 77 Derek Jacobi, 78 Larry Niven, 78 Peter Yarrow, 78 Noel "Paul" Stookey, 78 Margaret O'Brien, 79 Dustin Hoffman, 79 Morgan Freeman, 79 Jane Fonda, 79 Jack Nicholson, 79 Burt Reynolds, 80 Kris Kristofferson, 80 Robert Redford, 80 Donald Sutherland, 81 Julie Andrews, 81 Woody Allen, 81 Maggie Smith, 82 Richard Chamberlain, 82 Shirley MacLaine, 82 Judi Dench, 82 Michael Caine, 83 Carol Burnett, 83 Tom Skerritt, 83 Willie Nelson, 83 Loretta Lynn, 84 John Williams, 84 James Earl Jones, 85 William Shatner, 85 Rita Moreno, 85 Ian Holm, 85 Leslie Caron, 85 Gene Hackman, 86 Clint Eastwood, 86 Sean Connery, 86 Christopher Plummer, 87 Ursula K. Le Guin, 87 Bob Newhart, 87 Geoffrey Palmer, 89 Sidney Poitier, 89 Rosemary Harris, 89 Mel Brooks, 90 Chuck Berry, 90 Angela Lansbury, 91 Jimmy Carter, 92 Peter Sallis, 95 Kirk Douglas, 100! (born December 9th, 1916) Beverly Cleary, 100! (born April 12, 1916)

And let's not forget Elizabeth II of England, 90, the longest-reigning female head of state in history—

Or Stephen Hawking, 74, still working despite over 40 years in a wheelchair, after being told in 1962 that his life expectancy was 2 years.

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It's a Wonderful List

Most people I know have favorite Christmas movies or TV specials. For me, A Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer have been standards since I was old enough to change the TV channel. As I grew older I could appreciate movies like It's a Wonderful Life, although I've somewhat tired of Frank Capra films.

When I was just out of college I discovered the musical Holiday Inn with Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, which introduced the Irving Berlin classic "White Christmas." And just a few years ago I finally got around to seeing A Christmas Story, without which my brothers-in-law can't celebrate the season.

But there are a number of movies and TV shows that don't take a traditional approach to the Christmas spirit — or simply trash it outright. I try to watch at least a few every holiday season, from my personal list of over a dozen. They're pretty broad-ranging: comedy, drama, fantasy, action, crime, and music. About all they have in common is that they're at least partly set during the holiday season.

Pretty good movies

1941 (1979)

"It's gonna be a long war." Set in the week after the attack on Pearl Harbor, 1941 is really a pre-Christmas comedy, a warm-up for the season. For a Steven Spielberg movie it drags surprisingly often and too many gags fall flat, but the incredible dance competition, the tank chase, and a few other scenes are well worth seeing. Besides Dan Aykroyd and a really over-the-top John Belushi, 1941 features actors not then known for comedy: Warren Oates, Toshiro Mifune, Murray Hamilton, Christopher Lee, and Robert Stack as the real-life General Joseph Stillwell, apparently the Last Sane Man in California. (Note that this was a year before Robert Stack's comedy breakout in Airplane!.)

Gremlins (1984)

There's little that drags about this Spielberg film. Comedy-horror is a peculiar and difficult style, but Gremlins is a classic of it, one of the most evil-minded Christmas movies ever made outside the slasher genre, the kind where you think, "Is it wrong to find this so hilarious?" When Mr. Futterman's Kentucky Harvester turns on him — and Jerry Goldsmith's wicked theme first bursts into full flower — the Christmas spirit gets absolutely shattered.

Trading Places (1983)

A wealthy young bachelor and a street hustler are manipulated into exchanging roles for the entertainment of two old millionaires. The two victims discover their mutual predicament at Christmas, and have until the stock market opens after New Year's to get their revenge. It's a vicious and surprisingly funny tale that manages to make high-level stock market speculation both comical and almost comprehensible.

Home Alone (1990)

There's so much sweetness woven into the comedy and violence, both in Catherine O'Hara's performance as a desperate mom and John Williams' beautiful music, that I hesitate to include Home Alone in my list. But the epic battle between 8-year-old Kevin and the two bumbling burglars is vicious enough to qualify.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean (1992)

This is an episode from the Mr. Bean BBC television series. The humor in these shows is often somewhat mean-spirited and this episode is no exception, but I defy you to keep a straight face through the manger scene.

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994)

This picture is more for New Year's than Christmas, a showy but not especially clever bit from Joel and Ethan Coen I've only recently added to my list. It's not their best work, but watching Paul Newman and Jennifer Jason Leigh chew scenery as characters from 1940s movies is great fun — and Tim Robbins makes such a wonderful idiot.

Even better movies

L.A. Confidential (1997)

It starts at Christmas, then wanders far away, but I'm willing to stretch a point for this one. L.A. Confidential is a stylish neo-noir crime story with scarcely a wrong moment. The clever plot is almost as hard to follow as The Big Sleep, but the performances are impeccable, especially from Kim Basinger as a Veronica Lake impersonator (although facially Guy Pearce more closely resembles Lake than Basinger does).

The Thin Man (1934)

Another crime story that begins at Christmas then sorta forgets about it, The Thin Man is a light-hearted and well-lubricated adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's equally alcoholic mystery novel (in my hardback edition, I estimate someone takes or pours a drink every four pages). William Powell as a retired detective and Myrna Loy as his wealthy wife play off each other so perfectly that they were paired for five more Nick and Nora Charles movies even though the original "thin man" never reappears. The clues are sparse, but the dialogue is rich. "I'm a hero. I was shot twice in the Tribune." "I read where you were shot five times in the tabloids." "It's not true. He didn't come anywhere near my tabloids."

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

What happens when the King of Halloween becomes fascinated by Christmas? It's so horrible it must be set to music! The Nightmare Before Christmas is Tim Burton's animated assault on the holiday, featuring incredible renderings of Santa's North Pole home and its scary counterpart Halloween Town. The story is quite simple, but enhanced by the animation, the unforgettable characters, and Danny Elfman's bizarre and wonderful songs. When a trio of little villains start singing, "Kidnap the Sandy Claws!" it's hard not to root for them.

Rent (2005)

Death, life, drugs, and love — although I live in a city about 1% the size of New York, and I've never lived anywhere that even remotely resembles Alphabet City, there's no main character in Rent with whom I can't find some common ground. Like Holiday Inn the movie takes us around the calendar, but it begins and ends on Christmas Eve. The music and the story vary from light-hearted to heart-wrenching. From the first time I saw Rent it was one of my favorites. "No day but today."

The Hard Nut (1992)

When Mark Morris was a choreographer in Belgium, a French-language newspaper printed an English headline: "Mark Morris Go Home". The Hard Nut (broadcast in the U.S. on PBS' Great Performances) is one of the works that earned him that headline, a thoroughly unexpected adaptation of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker ballet. Morris sets the story in the 1970s: The first act includes Roy Lichtenstein-style backgrounds, a snow-white artificial Christmas tree, a television showing a log fire, and boozy party guests dancing the Bump to Tchaikovsky's music. When the home of the little girl, Marie, is invaded by the Mouse King (in an Elvis outfit), she's defended by her brother's G.I. Joe action figures. In the last half of the show, Morris returns to the original E.T.A. Hoffmann tale that inspired Tchaikovsky; some of the final dances are intensely emotional and graceful, beautifully fitted to the music.

Die Hard (1988)

"Now I have a machine gun. Ho ho ho." With Bruce Willis as the toughest cop ever, Alan Rickman as the most elegant villain since Vincent Price, an entire skyscraper to demolish, and a score based on Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, what else do you need?

The best movies

Edward Scissorhands (1990)

With all its dazzling sunshine and greenery and pastel colors, it's easy to forget that this story's climax occurs at Christmas. Edward Scissorhands is weird and scary and funny and grim and indescribable — in other words, typically Tim Burton — but it's also a beautiful and heartbreaking love story, with one of Danny Elfman's loveliest scores.

The Lion in Winter (1968)

"How dear of you to let me out of jail." "It's only for the holidays." The jewel in the anti-Christmas crown, The Lion in Winter is the finest work of Katharine Hepburn and Peter O'Toole, with one of the most wickedly clever scripts I've seen. Henry II of England lets his estranged wife Eleanor of Aquitaine out of prison to celebrate Christmas, 1183, with their three sons — all of whom want the throne. This isn't the Kate of all those Tracey and Hepburn films; strong and smart and sexual, but also ruthless and vicious, and, at over 60, still a striking beauty. Lean, thirty-something O'Toole manages to look fifteen years older and fifty pounds heavier; his Henry needs all his wits to deal with Eleanor and all his strength to handle his sons. This thoroughly dysfunctional family film also includes Anthony Hopkins and Timothy Dalton in their movie debuts. "Well, what shall we hang — the holly, or each other?"

So that's my list. Is there something you like to watch when you've had all you can stand of happy elves and Christmas bells?

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What would Martin Luther King, Jr. think of MLK Day?

Martin Luther King, Jr. on the value and importance of education:

►“I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality, and freedom for their spirits.”

►“The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character – that is the goal of true education.”

►“Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

Several years ago, I suddenly found myself wondering:  How would King have felt had he known that the U.S. would one day celebrate his birthday by closing every public school and every public library in the nation?  King fought for equal access to schools, libraries, and other public resources; do we honor him when, one day a year, we throw kids out of school in his name?

As a more fitting token of respect, I believe schools and libraries should remain open for MLK Day, and even extend their hours or activities.  To support this, I’ve created a “We the People” petition at whitehouse.gov:  To promote a more fitting observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  In that petition, I wrote:

We petition Congress that MLK Day would be better observed by:

1. Keeping public libraries open, if possible with extended hours and special activities to draw the public;

2. Keeping public schools open, with a choice of:

► A field day of community service activities such as those promoted by MLKDay.gov; or

► Special programs on literacy, diversity, and culture; or

► A normal daily schedule.

I’m not the only one who’s thought about this, I’ve discovered.  Last year, Amy Julia Becker at Huffington Post wrote, “On MLK Day, Our Kids Should Be In School”.

If you think Martin Luther King, Jr. would be better honored by keeping schools and libraries open, please sign my petition at whitehouse.gov.  If you disagree, feel free to comment below.

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Star Trek, 50 years on

A couple of weeks ago everyone was talking about the 50th anniversary of Star Trek.  My own anniversary is today, September 22, fifty years after I watched the original broadcast of "Where No Man Has Gone Before", the first Star Trek episode I remember seeing.  It scared the shoelaces off young Me, but I still remember the lesson within it:  You shouldn't mistreat other people just because you're stronger, that whole great power/great responsibility thing.  I've been a Star Trek fan for nearly the whole fifty years.

I've read articles lately about how unrealistically optimistic Star Trek was, and I disagree:  Trek showed people being people, good and bad.  But fifty years ago the whole landscape of SF was more optimistic.  This was years before Silent Running or Mad Max, and way before the whole teen-peril-dystopia of Hunger Games and Maze Runner and such.  This was years before the USA's entire space program got proxmired into stagnation, before Watergate and the energy crisis took the public's mind off space, before the ballooning of present-day anti-science attitudes.

Fifty years ago we still hadn't made good on JFK's promise to land men on the moon (and bring them back), but we believed it was coming.  Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke named their joint project (already in production before Star Trek) 2001: A Space Odyssey because they really believed that by 2001 we could--if we wanted--have permanent stations in orbit and on the moon, and be sending manned expeditions to the outer planets.  SF magazines of the time were full of stories of exploration and articles about reusable shuttle spacecraft (the eventual Space Shuttle was only a crude approximation of what had been proposed).  In 1965 and 1966 Larry Niven had sold hard-science stories about the manned exploration of Mars, Venus, and Mercury, and another about an interstellar colony ship driven by a fusion-powered laser.

SF (and science nonfiction, for that matter) wasn't all pretty and shining, mind you.  Robert Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, about a lunar colony's bitter struggle for independence from Earth, had just been serialized.  Rachel Carson's 1962 book Silent Spring was stirring controversy that would lead to the banning of DDT a few years later.  Fears of nuclear war were still commonplace:  Department stores had basement fallout shelters, Pat Frank's Alas, Babylon was still selling, and Stanley Kubrick's original story for 2001 depicted the space station as an orbiting weapons platform (and of course he'd just finished Dr. Strangelove, the archetypal comedy about the end of civilization).

Gene Roddenberry wasn't painting the human race as all sweetness and light, either.  That first episode I saw, "Where No Man Has Gone Before," revolved around two humans who had been given superhuman abilities.  One of them became arrogant, dismissing lesser humans as unimportant; the other maintained her compassion and respect for ordinary people.  Many of Star Trek's episodes hinged on the struggle between man's higher and baser impulses, the choice between good and evil, or between civilization and savagery.

But the underlying message of much of it--and much of mainstream SF at the time--was this:  There are terrible threats facing us, threats that can wipe out humanity in an eyeblink, threats that we created ourselves, but we can overcome them!  We can, day by day, overcome our baser natures; we can steer ourselves away from nuclear war, climate disaster (global warming, called the greenhouse effect, was already in SF fifty years ago), Malthusian starvation, and other mighty threats.

We can win.

That's the message that Star Trek put forth, the message that I and others grew up with.  That's what makes it so bitter for my generation that our country has steered away from science.

We can win--but right now we're hardly trying.

====== For comparison, here are several of the other TV programs of the day that touched on space travel and exploration:

My Favorite Martian - Premiered September 1963; ended May 1966.  Ray Walston plays a Martian who has crash-landed on Earth and can't get home.

Lost in Space - Premiered September 1965, a year before Star Trek; ended March 1968.  "Space Family Robinson" can't find their way home to Earth.  It was set in 1997 and featured interstellar travel.  CBS turned down Star Trek in favor of Lost in Space.

I Dream of Jeannie - Premiered September 1965; ended May 1970 (the only one to run beyond the Apollo 11 moon landing).  An American astronaut splashes down near a desert island and finds a genie in a bottle.  I wonder how many young boys were inspired to be astronauts after seeing Barbara Eden on TV.

It's About Time - Premiered September 11, 1966, just days before Star Trek; ended April 1967 after a single season.  Two American astronauts somehow exceed the speed of light, causing them to travel back in time to caveman days (including dinosaurs, volcanoes, and women being dragged by the hair).

I remember My Favorite Martian and I Dream of Jeannie, in particular, as being entertaining and funny, maybe even clever.  But as SF they were largely nonsense; next to its contemporaries, Star Trek looks like a series of NASA documentaries.

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13 days of growth. First photo taken on 2016/08/17. Second taken on 2016/08/30 from as nearly the same position as I could manage.