In June of 2011, I was invited to McGill University in Montreal, my alma mater, so that I could accept an honorary Ph.D. As with my Honorary Headbanger Award, I am more than aware of the limitations of the title. Only in symbolic medical emergencies may I assist, and I will only be allowed to rhetorically defend any of my make-believe dissertations.
McGill, this storied institution of learning, has been very good to me over the years, despite the fact that my title of “academic slacker” while attending was anything but symbolic. While matriculated, I felt that my learning needed to be done outside the classroom, although if I had ever deigned to enter a classroom in my four-plus years of going there, I might have found book learning appealing.
The university has produced seven Nobel Prize winners, Pulitzer Prize winners, and Academy Award winners, and I’m sure you can find out all about their histories if you ask around at the William Shatner University Centre.
Yep, the student union is named after me, thanks to a student referendum in 1992. Traditionally, buildings at McGill have been named after benefactors or dead people. Last time I checked, I’m neither. I am furiously avoiding death and—as for the money—well, McGill, I put the check in the mail. It must have gotten lost.
RULE: Nobody Buys “The Dog Ate My Endowment Check” Excuse Anymore
An honorary doctorate! Not bad for a kid who barely graduated high school and who entered McGill thanks to a Jewish quota program. Keep in mind, McGill was also giving an honorary degree to publishing magnate and fellow Jew Mort Zuckerman, so at least I know that my degree was not filling some sort of cultural requirement.
Bill takes his chapeau off to his alma mater, McGill University, in Montreal in 2011. (Courtesy of McGill University)
So there I was, in my jaunty cap and gown, standing before the graduates. Years ago, I hadn’t graduated with my own class because I had to make up some courses I’d failed. This ceremony would be my first official graduation. Eventually, it came time for me to share my honorary wisdom with the students, and I read a speech I prepared. This is what I said.
(NOTE: If you would like to experience what it was really like to be a graduate listening to William Shatner speak, pretend to worry about your job prospects, and start rehearsing your breakup speech to your college girlfriend/boyfriend.)
This was an easy degree to get. Just say “yes” and they hand you a degree. Thank you very much. While I am honored and grateful, it wasn’t quite so easy getting my bachelor degree of commerce from McGill.
I had quite a struggle actually—first getting into McGill, it being such a prestigious university. My academics weren’t all that good coming out of West Hill High School, which is now defunct. The only vivid memory I have of West Hill High was corporal punishment, where the teachers whipped you with a rubber mallet on your open palm if you had done something requiring punishment, like coming late to classes—which I did—or being rambunctious within the classroom—which I did—or even burning the principal’s car—which someone else did and I deny it to this day! But the only thing that remains more vivid than anything else is that we won the city championships. We became a dynasty. We won several football championships, and I was really the best player on the second team—the story of my life.
So when I came to McGill, I earnestly thought that I could be the best football player on the second team of the freshman class. After all, I weighed 160 pounds and could run the one-hundred-yard dash in something like fourteen seconds flat. Slow but sure—the story of my life.
Sadly, I didn’t make the freshman football team. Somebody punched me in the stomach and then somebody else stepped on my head. You can imagine I didn’t do so well with the breakfast I had eaten a little earlier, making my first day my last day. It was then that I discovered drama. Things would have to be easier at university, so I joined the drama club. But not really.
I had been active in amateur theatricals for several years before that, on radio and on stage, with television yet to be invented. That’s how far back I go, folks.
And when I came to McGill, I followed those interests and became at some point president of the Radio Club and a creative force on the Red White and Blue, performing university musicals. It was through creating those musicals that I got my university education.
In a student union building, a couple blocks from the present student union building, in the basement, under the stairs, the Red White and Blue had their offices. Their offices consisted of a desk, a chair, and a sofa. I made better use of the sofa than the desk. That’s a whole other education I received.
(NOTE: At this point, I attempted to run up and down the aisles, administering high fives. Under threats of having my degree revoked by the dean, I returned to the stage.)
My point is that my academic life at McGill—where I was working on a bachelor of commerce degree with all of those accounting, economics, and mathematics classes, none of which I attended because I was too busy trying to clean the sofa in the Red White and Blue office—wasn’t easy.
In those days, there were very few vacuum cleaners and spray cleaners—it was all done by hand—another part of my university education. But what this did teach me was not only cleanliness but also hard work. Running around that desk in the Red White and Blue office was hard work. I felt the sweat on my face running around that desk. It taught me that if you wanted to get something done, you had to get up early in the morning. When asked what my secret is to being successful, my answer has always been get up earlier in the morning. There is nothing that you can’t accomplish when standing on two feet. When you are lying down, all you accomplish is some REM sleep and working out your dream life.
When I graduated, which I did just barely in the fall after I made up a half course in math, which I had failed, I got my degree. In September I landed my first professional job in a small acting company in Montreal at Mount Royal.
The bothersome thing was that I got the job as an assistant manager by telling them I got a bachelor of commerce degree and I was adept at accounting and banking. This was the only other lie I ever told. The first one being that I hadn’t set fire to the principal’s car. It wasn’t long before they discovered two things: that I had no accounting skills whatsoever—my math skills are really bad—and that I was a good actor.
My talents didn’t lie in the field of accounting. My father, who paid for my education, was not amused. But my talents lay in trying to be funny and entertaining people. Although I didn’t study that per se—that’s Latin by the way.
(NOTE: Huge round of applause from the Latin Club.)
I did get my education complete, whole, and useful at McGill. I got it in my own way. I urge all of you to get it your way. Don’t be afraid of taking chances, of striking out along paths that are untrod. Don’t be afraid of failing. Don’t be afraid of making an ass of yourself. I do it all the time—and look what I got.
With that, I held my honorary doctorate aloft, as proud as I could possibly be.
I sat back down and scanned the crowd, here at the institution where I started my adult life. In a few weeks, I would also be getting another lifetime achievement honor from the governor general of Canada.
Which reminds me—hey, United States? Let’s get busy with the honors and accolades! Do you want to lag behind Canada in the race to honor William Shatner?
So what does one do after so many awards and accolades?
Get to work on winning some more.
There’s finality to this life achievement business that I want no part of. As long as you’re able to say “yes,” the opportunities keep coming, and with them, the adventures. Say “no” to fear and complacency. Keep saying “yes,” and the journey will continue.
In this, the eightieth year of my life, I should be settling down, taking it easy, resting on laurels. Forget it.
This rocket ride of a life I’m strapped to just keeps hurtling on an
d on, faster into the unknown. Will I be ejected, rejected, or dejected? What will happen with my new album? What will happen with this book? With the family? With my TV stuff? The horses? With all the wonderful adventures Elizabeth and I are sharing and will continue to share?
I have no idea. But the rocket keeps going, and I keep holding on.
I think perhaps my rule of saying “yes” has been a way for me to think I’m controlling the sometimes wild trajectory of my existence. The fact of the matter is, I’ve been lucky enough to have life say “yes” to me, time and time again. Perhaps there’s no way to control anything. Perhaps the best thing to do is work hard, hold on, and enjoy the view.
I’m not done yet. There are many lives in a lifetime. There are many things I would like to achieve that I haven’t. I’ll place these degrees, these awards, on my mantel, as a constant reminder of what I have yet to achieve.
Whatever else happens, I’ll be sure to let you know. And thanks for saying “yes” to going along on this crazy rocket ride with me.
My best,
Bill
RULE: To Friends, It’s Always “Bill”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my editor, Carrie Thornton, who came up with the idea for this book and came calling. I’m glad she did. To her assistant, Stephanie Hitchcock, thank you for being so on top of every detail. Speaking of being on top of every detail, I’d be sunk if it weren’t for my assistant, Kathleen Hays, who has all the answers and is always so nice to be around. To our publisher, Brian Tart, our publicist, Amanda Walker, and all of the Dutton/Penguin team I say a hearty merci. And to Paul Camuso for keeping me on the cutting edge of that social media thing.
To all my past, present, and future cast mates—I’m sorry for stealing your lunch.
Last but not least, to my fans. Thanks for all the attention. Now give me back my underwear.
FINAL FUN FACTNER:
It’s Shatner’s World. We Just Live in it.
Shatner Rules Page 16