Rod Serling on Kamizakes

We’ve been given the story you and your wife travel on different planes.

Yes, indeed. It’s that we don’t have any close relatives who would be able to look after two rather small girls. I suppose statistically this is nonsensical to travel on separate planes. I rather think it’s far more dangerous to climb into a taxi, really, anywhere on earth. We’re on our way to Japan shortly here, and we’re told that the Japanese cabs are called ‘kamikazes’ and that you literally take your life in your hand when you drive in these things.

I was in the paratroops during the war and I have since talked to old colleagues of the ‘chutes,’ we call it, who have traveled in Japan. They tell me it’s far easier to get up in a jump stick on a C-47 aircraft, leap out into enemy territory than it is to climb into the rear seat of a Japanese taxicab. I think probably they’re going to start giving medals and ribbons for service in back seats in Japanese cabs.

Rod, for the benefit of people who haven’t seen this, I think just a very brief description of what the series is about would be a good idea.

Well, the Twilight Zone is in essence an imaginative itinerary of storytelling in which we utilize bases of fantasy, science fiction, the occult, extrasensory perception, anything that is imaginative, wild, or, as in the States we call it, ‘kooky.’ In normal earthbound drama, if a man is on top of a building and it’s burning, of necessity he has to crawl down either a ladder, or go through a skylight, or is rescued by a helicopter. In The Twilight Zone he grows wings and he flies off.

But, as I say, this is a program of imaginative storytelling, and utilizing the idea of going back in time or forward in time, this has provided considerable bases of storytelling in our particular series. I’m the kind of a guy who is now in that aging late ’30, early ’40 bracket in which, suddenly, there is a tremendous bittersweet, poignant feeling about wanting to go back to another time. In my case it would be the pre-war or early teens time, which were particularly happy for me.

On occasion I will go back to my old hometown and walk through the streets and the places that I grew up in and feel a sense of great loss that I wish I could recapture it. I think the answer is, much as Wolfe said, “You simply cannot go home again.” It’s quite impossible.

As evidenced by the youngsters liking this show, I’ve always felt this was wonderful, because the most unfettered imagination belongs to young people, and they don’t walk through life; they fly, and that’s marvelous. They defy the law of gravity, mentally, anyway. That’s the reason I think we have astronauts orbiting now, and that’s the reason we’re planning a trip to the moon. People talk about science fiction being very far out, very wild. I don’t think it’s any of these things. Everything we see in the way of space travel, space concept, scientific advancement, medical discoveries, was already predicted by good science fiction twenty-five years ago.

As a little boy, did you find that you invented things? Did you ever get picked on for telling fibs?

Oh, indeed. I was a … I haven’t utilized a euphemism. I’ll say I was imaginative. A lot of people would say I was a liar. As a matter of fact, when I played small-boy games and if a bad guy, so-called, would put a gun to my head and fire, I would say I had an invisible shield, which I pushed a button and it got in front of me. Or, for example, if they lassoed me, I’d say, “You didn’t really lasso me, because I pushed a button and went through a trap door at that given moment.” And my friends called me “Impossibility.” That was the name they gave to me, but I think it pointed the way toward professionally what I would do with my life. Some liars go to prison; others write television shows. It’s as simple as that.

This is the nicest interview I’ve ever had. I feel warm and belonging here.

Oh, that’s a compliment, indeed. I find that talking to someone who’s creative is always inspiring.

Well, it depends. Creativity, of course, comes at odd times. I’ve done so much talking, Binny, in the past couple of weeks. I hope I’m not pontificating. I hope talking is the correct word. I feel sort of talked out.

Well, I certainly have enjoyed chatting with you.

And I with you, Binny.

Thank you very much.

Right-o. Thank you, Binny.

Everyone, you have met Rod Serling.