The time has come.
I’ve been putting it off over the weekend, attending my best friend’s wedding, going geocaching with my step-son.
But it is time. Money has changed hands, and I have an obligation to fulfill.
I pick him up from my desk, and avoid eye contact as I carry him into the dining room.
I gingerly put him down on my dining room table, and he looks like a patient about to undergo some sort of surgery. Strangely, I feel more like Doctor Giggles than Doctor Green.
He looks up at me and says, “Hey, Wheaton. What do you say you let me out of this box, and take me for a spin in your landspeeder?”
“Can’t do it, Wesley. First, you’re the wrong scale, and second, you don’t belong to me anymore.”
He doesn’t reply. He knows that I’m right.
I uncap a gold paint pen, and get ready. The familiar burn of acetone and paint hits me in the face, and a series of convention memories blurs through my mind, in hyper-real Hunter S. Thompson-o-vision: I sign a plate, a photo, a poster, field a question that I don’t know the answer to, politely decline the offer of a hug from a large woman in a “Spock Lives!” T-shirt. The memories race past, and I watch them with a certain amount of detachment, a spectator to my own life.
Although the places and people changed, there was little difference from one hotel convention hall to the next: The same questions, the same jokes, the same inescapable smell…the memories engulf me with a frightening and surprising lucidity. I think that I’ve allowed these events to drift into the distance of memory, but they come back, immediate and insisent, as if no time has passed.
He looks at me, daring me to give voice to these thoughts.
I realize that we are very interwoven, whether we like it or not, and as I open my mouth to speak, something I’d never thought of before comes into my mind: I can exist without him, but he could not, would not, does not exist without me.
Suddenly, I feel free.
I lift the pen up, and touch it to the plastic, and write what I’ve been asked to write:
“Vincent –
“I am sick of
following rules and regulations!
-Wil Wheaton”
It’s done.
I sit back, and regard him. He’s obscured by my writing, which casts a lattice-work of shadows across his face and body. The symbolism of this moment is not lost on me.
“You know, that was a cool line,” he says. “Remember how cool it was to stand up to Picard?”
“Yeah. It was fun being you back then,” I tell him. “I watched Code of Honor last night though. Jesus, you were a dork, man.”
“That wasn’t me, dude. That was Wesley Crusher, the doctor’s son. I’m Cadet Crusher, the bad ass. Wesley was a dork. Cadet Crusher was cool. Need I remind you who waxed Robin Lefler’s ass?”
“Why do you have to talk that way? People have a certain image of you, you know.”
“Hey, they can kiss my shiny plastic ass. I have never been responsible for the things I say. I can only say what someone tells me to say. As a matter of fact, I’m not even talking now. You’re putting all these words in my mouth.”
“So my Tyler Durden is a 5 inch action figure? That’s just perfect. At least you can’t force me into some sort of Project Mayhem.”
“Oh, I can’t?”
I can’t tell through the gold paint pen, but I think he’s sizing me up.
“You’re such a pussy, Wheaton. We were cool when we wore this spacesuit, and you know it. Fucking own that, boyo. If anyone has a problem with that, they can fuck all the way off. ”
I’m a bit shocked to hear this come out of us.
“Uh, Wesley, you really can’t talk like that.”
“I just told you, it’s not me. It’s you, cock-knocker. Now put me in the box, and find some other cool thing to auction. I think I saw a plate in the closet.”
“Why didn’t we ever talk like this before? I never realized that you were cool. Really. I mean, I hated you, man.”
“Yeah, you and every other insecure teenage boy. Listen, and listen good, because I’m not saying this again.
“You have always cared too fucking much what other people thought of us. Go read your stupid website, and listen to your own advice. You’ll be much happier. Now put me in the box and let’s get this over with.”
I look at him, and a touch of sadness passes over me.
“Wesley, I have always been, and I always will be –”
“Oh Jesus H. Christ! I can’t believe you were going to quote Star Trek. I am so embarrassed for you right now. Just close the fucking box and send me on my way.”
I do it. I put him in the box, drop in some packing stuff and a few stickers.
We drive to the post office in silence.
I walk to the mailbox, and open it.
I think to say goodbye, but I know that Wesley won’t be talking to me anymore.
I place the box on the edge, and lift it up. The box falls into darkness.
I am Wil’s freedom.
225 thoughts on “The Big Goodbye”
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ple. Okay. But nobody said we couldn't write fan fiction.
take me anywhere i don’t care
It is 1987. The movie sold out, and there is no way we are going home early. There aren't many places for us to go, and we only have like ten bucks, each, so this is where we end up.
I wrote fan fiction for my job and got paid for it and everything.
I wrote a story for the 400th issue of the Star Trek comic!
Very cool.
Oh yea, and First Post!!
Couldn’t resist. Honest, I couldn’t.
Man, Wil. Your behavior is more like me than my kid would like to admit. I admire your perspective(s). Lettin’ go of all of OUR Wesley Crushers in life isn’t easy – at least you get a few bucks out of it 😉
Be good,
-sam
Wow, that was really cool. Wesley rocked, in a geeky, now-a-cadet kind of way. Give us the heads up on that plate Wil!
*applause*
Ok I could prolly take offense to the comment “fat woman wearing a spock shirt” but I won’t. Just won’t. So should I be scared of any of the action figures that are boxed up in my closet at my parent’s ever talking to me?? No? good. though one of them is a Cadet Crusher mint in the box….but I am sure that the young Wesley Crusher mint in the box will have fun with him. It is like Toy Story gone wrong!*Shakes head*
what’s a cock knocker?
You realize you’ve just doubled the value of that little guy with this entry, don’t you.
It’s kinda cool that you have a physical representation of a part of your life that you’ve been uncomfortable with. I think most of us would like to take a portion of our lives, hold it in our hands, argue over it, and then send it away. 🙂 You Rawk Wil! I’ve really enjoyed these dialogues.
Very cool, Wil. Very cool.
Great post, Wil…glad you’ve been able to put some of your “demons” aside…get on with what life has in store for you, my friend!! 😮 )
Take care,
Rawk on…and great Tyler Durden reference; perfect for the moment.
This was really great, Wil. You almost make me wish I would have bid on the little guy. Almost. 😉
Congratulations Wil. That was awesome.
Um, Wil… Are you ok?
I am Daejin’s festering green eyed monster. Cadet Crusher’s right on the money. Screw the clamoring masses calling for your head, you were on ST:TNG for crying out loud, the best and brightest of the Roddenberry franchises. It’s not like you were Screech on “Saved By the Bell.” Not to mention your own action figure…although it’s best you’ve given him away to avoid the potential embarrassment of your family catching you playing with yourself.
The first rule of WWDN is: You do not talk about WWDN.
The second rule of WWDN is: You do _not_ talk about WWDN!
Wil – this series of posts has been some of the best stuff I’ve seen you write. I only wish I could come up with things this good for my site.
sorry bout that, browser problem :/
Very cool Dude. It’s hard letting go of the past and all the baggage associated with it, but it’s something we all must do, even if it means facing things that are unpleasant or moving beyond a set pattern or lifestyle because it’s comfortable. Growth is always difficult, but it is the way of things. Funny that this post comes now when I am faced with a crossroads in my life, but I’ll not bore you with that, or with what the voices in my head are saying about it…
This page is excellent, and I love your journal. Glad to see you’re alive and funny as all hell.
Wil, is this shtick or this really bothered you
Gosh I just answered my own question, good to see ya .
Danko
Besides…having just re-acquainted myself with the first two seasons of TNG thanks to the modern miracle of DVD, I’ve realized two things. First off, that show was _so_ much better than I remembered (and, imho, stomps all over Enterprise, which I’ve stopped watching), and that Wesley wasn’t nearly as bad as I remembered.
it seems that this confrontation was a long time coming. alannis morisette said it best when she said ‘life has a funny way of helping you out’…ebay’ing off all this old stuff is a very good way to finish closing up all the old wounds, I think. It seems like you agree. This one, I imagine, was the last to close off and really get down to healing. Congratulations.
Wil —
This conversation with Wesley has been… fascinating. I enjoyed it immensely, and I love your writing style. I’ll never look at my Cadet Crusher action figure the same way again. (Though I think right now he’s playing in a drawer with Harry Kim, Picard as a Borg and some guys from SeaQuest.)
But I was always a Wesley fan anyway.
So it is done. Its all for the best. (Tries hard to be reassuring.) We will all be better people for this, even you Mr. Wheaton. Now let us all raise a toast to that demonic, yet thankfully contained, little action figure and wish him a fond farewell. This is a day of joy. Rock on Wil, rock on!
Ira Glass is either eating this stuff up or thinking, “Shit, not another poser! F^&*@%*& give it up, Wheaton.” 😀
The Big Goodbye falls somewhere between Old Yeller and Shane.
Beautiful…
Now, I will NOT put on my psychologist pants and start analyzing this… It was just a very entertaining story, that’s all.
Oh, and my husband and I just finished watching the first season of TNG on DVD, and I just laughed my ass off when Wes (don’t remember the episode title) declares (something along those lines) with a hardly straight face: “I will never understand what it’s like to be addicted to anything. What’s the point?” And Tasha Yar responds “You are very lucky Wesley…” Oh, goodness, talk about a subtle “say no to drugs” message… Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it seems that Mr. Wheaton had a hard time trying not to giggle.
JUst saw a quote by David Bowie on TV. He said the “Worrying about aging is for the young” I think that today is his birthday. He is 50ish i think.
Yikes, what angst ridden inner turmoil unleashed. I say good riddance to the little foul mouthed, shiny plastic assed, impertinent, regulation hating, Lefler waxing Cadet Crusher action figure. If he only knew he was squeezed out of the same molding machine and made from the same plastic as those fake turds in a Taiwanese sweat shop, he may show you a little more respect. Fricken funny though!
http://lakerbago.com/misc/wesfigure.jpg
You have just restored my faith in Wesley ‘the geek’ Crusher. For a while there I thought he was just another ‘greater than thou’, fucking A suck up. But I was wrong. He swears, he shouts, he’s sarcastic just like the rest of us.
Thanks man
Sal
Once again, I bow to the mighty Spudnuts.
If I ever make this stuff into a book, I want that picture.
Ecdysis and integuments, that’s where you are. It’s not a painless process, but you don’t get a new face until you shed the old one. You the man.
“You’re such a pussy, Wheaton. We were cool when we wore this spacesuit, and you know it. Fucking own that, boyo. If anyone has a problem with that, they can fuck all the way off. ”
Finally.
Now that we’re all in agreement, can we move on?
Dude, you’re losing it.
Very nice. I’m glad Wesley didn’t convince you to make soap out of human fat, or blow up a few buildings. 🙂
What a pleasant surprise this post was. From the first two paragraphs, I thought the upshot would be that the nasty little trolls and upkeep costs had made you decide to shut down the ‘blog.
Horrible Visu!
Glad to see you expelling your angst in the much healthier way of playing Foul-Mouthed puppeteer (in its nicest connotations).
Way to Time Capsule the experience of your youth.
Oh, and BTW, : Spudnuts, you rock.
Never has the mundane task of finding and auctioning off an item on eBay been as riveting as it has been over the past week!
Welsey rocked! you know that!
The big goodbye,… you scarded me, a million things it could be… until I learned you’re just being you’re silly self! LOL!
Well glad you had fun… too bad that wasn’t sent to me…
Lily
“Self improvement is Masturbation…
…Self destruction is the answer”
In Tyler we trust…
Great quotes Wil…that movie is brilliant.
Welsey rocked! you know that!
The big goodbye,… you scarded me, a million things it could be… until I learned you’re just being you’re silly self! LOL!
Well glad you had fun… too bad that wasn’t sent to me…
Lily
Welsey rocked! you know that!
The big goodbye,… you scarded me, a million things it could be… until I learned you’re just being you’re silly self! LOL!
Well glad you had fun… too bad that wasn’t sent to me…
Lily
Wil…
We are told people stay in love because of chemistry,or because they remain intrigued with each other,because of many kindnesses,because of luck.But part of it has to be forgiveness and gratefulness.the understanding that although you’re no bargain,you love and you are loved.Anyway.
Was Wesly so bad?You have him at a disadvantage Wil, he was only who he was with the knowledge he had at the time.It’s easy to condem the past looking from the future,but without that past we would not be here today @ wilwheaton.net.
As a Brother speaking to a Brother
“I love you Wesly Crusher”
Redrhinox
Wil said:
“Once again, I bow to the mighty Spudnuts.
If I ever make this stuff into a book, I want that picture.”
Picture? I think you just got your title!
The constrained dimensions of this pop-up window make my photoshop thingy all effed up. Best when viewed in a NORMAL window.
Yep.
I can see doing a whole series of WC:MIB photoshop dealies.
WC:MIB on a train eating corned beef hash.
WC:MIB working on a fishing boat in the Bering Sea.
WC:MIB returning to the public eye with his new beard.
Cock-knocker? That’s a good one. I always knew Wes was a bad ass under that Leave it to Beaver facade.
Don’t forget the picture of
WC:MIB with his south street prostitute.
Priceless… that’s all I can say! These stories have been awesome!
Does this mean I should start having conversations with my mail too? 🙂
Great post, Wil. “So my Tyler Durden is a 5 inch action figure? That’s just perfect.” I love that line.
And yay, Spudnuts! Excellent photo.
/gush
I find your self evaluations amusing and
enlightening. An actor not afraid to diss himself.
Okay now when does the plate go up?