Q: Why did Kirk poop on the ceiling?
There's nothing wrong with being obsessed. I'm obsessed with stuff. My cats are definitely a certifiable obsession with me. I also can't prevent myself from trying every single item Aveda puts on their shelves. Then there's anything having to do with P.G. Wodehouse, Blackadder, or Harry Potter, and why the hell every black shirt I own comes out of the washer dirtier than it goes in. Maybe I just have to get used to the fact that I'm actually pouring a vat of lint into the water instead of Tide. Anyway, as long as they don't hurt anyone, obsessions, in my opinion, are perfectly fine.
Growing up, I'd have to say my experience with Star Trek was pretty limited. That's not to say I wasn't interested in stuff about outer space, either. I loved Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers, and Star Wars (natch). In fact, my older sister and I made the neighborhood boys jealous with our action figure collection. Then there were the ships, posters, lunch boxes, tee-shirts, special edition glasses from McDonald's -- even the miniature Ewok village. Sadly, I never managed to get my hands on a Millennium Falcon. I also became mildly infatuated with the movie The Black Hole and started collecting a few items related to that franchise. But Star Trek was beyond our realm of interest. I think it had something to do with my mother taking issue with Kirk's jumping in and out of aliens' ectoplasm and so she didn't really, shall we say, encourage us to watch it. And by "didn't really encourage," I mean that she switched off the television before Trek came on and said, "You're not watching that crap." She was only trying to protect her innocent daughters; after all, I wasn't allowed to watch Love Boat for the same reasons, and Grease was also verboten because they said the word "ass." Not to worry -- that's what babysitters are for. And man, did I find out how much more was said in there besides "ass"!
So, my entrée into the world of Trek started many years later with The Next Generation. I have to admit something now and subject myself to being vilified by my posters, but my initial interest in The Next Generation did lie in the fact that Wil Wheaton was in it. Yes, I know; cringe away. Okay, but think of it this way: Stand By Me had just come out the year before TNG started in 1987 (I just didn't find a pudgy, brush-cut River Phoenix in a dirty undershirt attractive), and I was in eighth grade. I was ripe to crush on a scrawny, brown-haired, brown-eyed kid who wants to be a writer. I watched TNG for a while without really having any friends or family who watched it -- my mother still couldn't get over the whole Kirk sexing it up every time Spock raised an eyebrow thing, even though I tried to tell her this was a new series, a new series -- so I kind of lost interest. However, in college, things changed. Every once in a while, to escape poetry anthologies the thickness of a Zingerman's Reuben, I'd switch on my TV and find myself watching random episodes of TNG late at night until I fell asleep.