Here’s something funny: I’m not a big Star Trek fan and I never have been. The first show wasn’t bad (well, actually, in many ways it wasn’t particularly good, but more about that later), but I never found any of the later shows worth my time. But I always liked William Shatner.

You could talk about his ego or how the other cast members didn’t like him, you could mock his choppy delivery, or you could just be amazed at the strange women that he found himself lip-locked with in show after show, but I liked the guy. I liked him in a sort of clownish way when I was young; my true appreciation for Shatner came on my much later in life.

It came when I realized that he was a unique figure in entertainment: he was an actor who inspired decades worth of jokes about his melodramatic, choppy line readings; he wasn’t always well-liked by his fellow actors; and, yet, he was the guy who had a long career through multiple TV shows and who will remain part of our cultural lexicon (admittedly, often on the wrong end of the joke) well beyond my years. He isn’t one of those marginal actors who maintains a low-level career doing direct-to-video movies (like the Cories), he’s stayed frequently in the spotlight, loved by masses even as they mock his worst moments.

That’s impressive.

It doesn’t hurt that he seems to have discovered himself late in life. He knew that he was part of the joke, and he found a way to laugh along and make us like him even more. He knew that he ego was bigger than his talent, so he found a way to make that awareness part of the act. Whatever he is like in person, his TV persona is warm and funny and self-deprecating. He’s a hard guy to dislike when he’s talking about the ways that Star Trek changed the world, but doing it with a sly smile and a boyish glint in his aging eyes.

So, here’s to William Shatner, object of both our admiration and our laughter. He has entertained us for decades and, rightly, earned his place in Hollywood.