I’m recording an audiobook today and tomorrow, in a small studio up in the valley where I work fairly regularly. Everyone there knows me, and it’s comforting and sort of grounding to go to work in a familiar place, even though I’m working on entirely different books whenever I’m there.
Today, I finished the first of two stories from a collection, and got about halfway through the second story before my voice gave out.
“I am out of gas,” I told the engineer, “and I have an audition for a voice commercial later today, so I need to call it.”
She checked the word count and told me that we were far enough along that we would have plenty of time to finish tomorrow, on schedule.
“Great,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I gathered up my things, put on and zipped up my favorite new hoodie, and left the recording booth. I walked up a hallway and into the main lobby, where some of the other engineers, directors, and artists were eating their lunches.
I walked past one person who I haven’t seen before. He had grey hair, wore glasses, and had his head down, reading something off an iPad. I noticed that he had an old school Black Flag tattoo on the base of his neck.
He was right next to the door to the parking lot, so I paused before I opened it, and said, “Hey, I really love your Black Flag tattoo. They were one of my favorite bands, growing up, and I’ve been seriously considering getting one just like it.”
He looked up at me, sort of squinted a little bit, and furrowed his brow. Before he could speak, I felt all the blood drain out of my body. My body, in fact, ceased to exist. I was, at that moment, just a brain, a mouth, and a pair of eyes.
Because I was looking at Henry Fucking Rollins.
With some degree of horror, I heard the following come out of my mouth: “Holy shit. You’re Henry Rollins.”
He seemed to recoil, just a tiny bit. I’ve heard that he’s shy, and thank the old gods and new that some part of my brain reminded me of that.
“I … um … wow. I can’t believe I’m in the same room as you,” I said.
He continued to look at me, a little unsure.
“I … um … I am going to do to you what people sometimes to do me. It’s weird and embarrassing and will probably make you a little uncomfortable, but I want you know know how much your work has meant to me.”
I held out my hand. Or, rather, I realized that my hand had extended itself from my body, drawing my arm behind it. It sort of hovered in the air between us. “My name’s Wil. I’m an actor and an author …” I trailed off. Like Henry Rollins is going to give a fuck about who you are or what you go. Get to the point and just leave, dude.
He took my hand, gently, and politely shook it. “I’m Henry. Nice to meet you.”
I said something else. I don’t know and can’t remember what it was. I felt like I was six bottles of w00tstout into a night, or like I was falling through the black emptiness of some kind of deep well that had minimal gravity, and no air to speak of. I felt like I was both outside of and inside of my body.
I swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re busy, and I feel really awkward and I can’t stop talking but I want you to know that I’m trying to,” I stammered, “but I listened to your band all through high school, and when I was in drama school, I used your books — especially See A Grown Man Cry and Now Watch Him Die — as sources for my monologues. I had to emotionally internalize your words and feelings and make them my own, so … wow I just realized how weird that sounded.”
I tried to breathe, couldn’t, and decided to just keep talking.
“I’m so sorry. I feel so weird when people do this to me, but it’s just that your work meant so much to me, and played such a huge part in my development as an actor and as a writer, and I have this really great life right now, and I don’t expect this to mean to you what it means to me, but thank you for being part of it. Thank you for all of your work.”
At least, that’s what I think I said. That’s what I intended to say, though I could have just said “Duuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh….” for all I know. He said something back to me, but I can’t remember what it was. I think it was positive. I’m not sure. I hoped that I wasn’t pissing off one of my heroes.
I felt like I was going to pass out. I don’t mean that in the hyperbolic way people say, “oh my god I shit my pants.” I mean that in the very real way that something was happening to my body and I was on the verge of losing consciousness. In front of Henry Rollins.
I pulled it together enough to realize that I really needed to stop talking.
“I really need to stop talking and leave now,” I said.
He said something else, again, I think it was positive, or at least neutral, and he went back to his iPad.
I turned to open the door, and it didn’t budge. I pushed on it, hard, then I pulled on it, hard. I can only imagine what a jackass I looked like, this babbling idiot who vomited this deluge of things onto Henry Fucking Rollins, who was now unable to operate a simple door. A simple door that he’s used dozens of times. I was completely broken.
“You have to push the button to release it,” someone said.
Of course! The button! The green button that I’ve pushed dozens of times to open this door.
I pushed the green button.
“This is so embarrassing,” I said. Then: “I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
I practically ran across the parking lot to my car. I got into the driver’s seat, and pulled out my phone. I told Twitter:
So, this guy at the studio where I'm recording. I say, "I love your Black Flag tattoo." He looks at me, and HOLY FUCK HE'S HENRY ROLLINS.
— Wil Wheaton (@wilw) November 18, 2014
I proceed to turn into a barely-coherent freak, as I try to convey to him how much his work means to me. I fail. He is patient. He is kind.
— Wil Wheaton (@wilw) November 18, 2014
Dear teenage me: Someday you're going to meet Henry Rollins, and he's going to shake your hand. Try not to spaz. (Spoiler alert: you spaz.)
— Wil Wheaton (@wilw) November 18, 2014
βI definitely learned a lesson this time. I know that I can be broken. I am not as tough as I thought. I see it now. At this point, it’s the only thing good that came out of all of this. I know myself better now and know what I have to do.β-Henry Rollins, The Portable Henry Rollins
Oh, I can totally sympathize with you, Wil. I think I caused you to recoil in the same way when I met you at GenCon in 2010. π
With me, it was because I’d rehearsed what I wanted to say while I was waiting in line (to start off saying that I was sorry that you weren’t feeling well that day), but as I walked up to your table, I could feel myself on the verge of forgetting… riding that dangerously fine line between coherence and babbling fanboy. heh. To help myself focus on the words, I rolled my eyes upward… and noticed that you and your assistant recoiled (more than just slightly). I understand why (so no foul on your part), and the conversation went fairly well after that, but I kicked myself for how it started off.
I hit a true fanboy babbling moment when I met Phil Plait last year. He and I have a ‘kindred spirit’ thing going on, as we’re both enthusiastic science writers who discuss astronomy, space, climate change, etc.. We were discussing various topics and were having a bit of a bonding moment over our shared annoyance with a certain kind of the commentor, and I got a little overzealous… he sought out the ‘comfort’ of other people at that point. I felt really bad about that, because the last thing I wanted to do is make Phil uncomfortable … frankly, he is one of my heroes, and this was one of the times when you meet your hero and he’s just as awesome as he seems to be, and there’s no disappointment on your end, but then YOU go and blow it… sigh Oh well.
I met Emily Lakdawalla last month, at a NASA social event at JPL, and with what happened with Phil still ‘fresh’ in my mind, I was so concerned about going all fanboy on her, and possibly alienating her or making her uncomfortable, that I hardly interacted with her at all, even though I really wanted to (and I may have ended up alienating her anyway, since it may have seemed like I was avoiding her).
The brain is a complicated, ever-changing minefield.
I think Henry knows what this is like:
him geeking out about meeting Adrian Belew, which I thought was especially funny for this context because I believe the term “Trekkie” is used (and double funny because his friend William Shatner is there too)
he also mentions his internal freakout about meeting Ike Turner earlier in the special
Oh my word this guy is freaking funny! He sums nice too. Thanks for the share.m
Sounds like a good time to talk about how the music touched you on a RFB. 2014 is almost gone and no RFB…
Ever since I saw the twitter post, I’ve been waiting for you to blog about it, because, how could you not? IT was HENRY FUCKING ROLLINS! At least words came out of your mouth. I once had the privilege of meeting an author I really admired and my significant other at the time had to speak for me. I’m not sure I got any words out of my mouth.
To this day I’m a bit terrified to even try meeting any other of my heroes because I’m afraid I’ll suddenly become mute again.
Did this very thing to Clark Gregg not that long ago, at the LA Opening of his indie film Trust Me. Just — like — brain mouth disconnect. I remember the first time I met Harlan Ellison. I remember it because other people have described how I seemed to be in a haze and my feet weren’t quite touching the ground. That’s the ONLY reason I remember it.
I kinda want to hug you right now, because man, I have been in that place. And yeah, Henry Rollins is a force of nature and a creative genius and I totally get why you’d go into overload.
βHalf of life is fucking up, the other half is dealing with it.β ~ Henry Rollins
I’m terrible at small talk with anyone I don’t know, celebrity or not. So when I found myself having to make small talk with Sam from True Blood at some random Con in Seattle once while the truly disorganized keepers went off and made change for what seemed like hours, I failed, utterly. I have no idea what we talked about, though I’m pretty sure I didn’t go fan girl on him. But my husband and the other friend with us that day just left me hanging there while they stood back and giggled at me, and they still give me crap about it. I feel your pain, but I bet you didn’t come off anywhere near as bad as you think. My only consolation is that there was no line for him at all, so he was probably happy to have someone else to talk to for a bit.
This year at VidCon I brought two copies of my book on the miles-off chance that I would get to meet Hank and John Green. And lo and behold, I got to attend panels with both of them. At my first Hank panel I was too shy to approach afterward. At my first John panel I got cold feet. At my second John panel I chickened out again, but then a friend who was with me said, “No, you’ll hate yourself.” So she grabbed a copy and went to him and said, “This is by my friend. He’s right over there. He didn’t want to bother you but it’s really good.” And he looked over at me and smiled and waved. I waved back and died inside.
Then I got in to a second Hank panel. I was determined. I was not going to fuck up again. I would give him the book and tell him my name and tell him I was a huge fan.
I got set up. I was by the door he would come in through. I was waiting patiently in a chair. The door clicked, then swung open. I look up and there is Hank fucking Green. Somehow I got up and walked toward him. Words fled me entirely and I just shouted, “HANK.” He jumped a little. I practically shoved my book through his chest. He took it, smiled a little, and walked up to do the panel. I sat there, mouth hanging open.
Gah. I hope I get to meet him again and I act cooler and that he COMPLETELY doesn’t remember me.
“Spaz”?!?
You were caught off guard and it happens to the best of us. This was prolly not the first time a fan has reacted like that and it definitely not gonna be the last. He is intelligent enough to know that you arent like that all the time.
Remember that you are also patient and kind. You responded to an email from a woman on the other side of the world who was seeking advice on how to deal with her first Con, whilst also dealing with depression and anxiety.
She didn’t make it to the Con due to another illness, but she does feel that she is able to go to her first one next year.
I can’t thank you enough for those words. They made all the difference.
You know, i met my version of Henry Fucking Rollins back in 1991. I was in Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia (I am a Sinfonian, I mean to say) Professional Music Fraternity of America and I was in New Orleans, LA, for the triennial National Assembly. I was the representative from Province 23 of the Fraternity. I arrived at the initiation ritual and a gentleman (brother) stood next to me. He asked if he could share my song book. I said “Sure! My name is Cesar.” He said “My name is John. John Bourgeois”. I froze. John. Bourgeois. Colonel John Bourgeois, conductor of THE UNITED STATES MARINE BAND, THE PRESIDENT’s OWN, of WASHINGTON, DC. I swooned. I bought him a drink the next day at the Monteleone Hotel Carousel Bar and Lounge. His drink of choice? Rum and Coke. My drink, too. Still a great memory. Great. Memory.
That is pretty cool Ceaser, π
Isn’t it weird how we run into celebrities? Sometimes in hotels elevators,or grocery shopping,and such.Many times I find out after the fact for someone telling me”Hey,that was Dick Clack standing you.”Oh yeah? Cool”(opening of a Hard Rock Cafe in my home town.gram and I went for fun.lots of people showed up.). Since my eyesight sick on a good day, I can’t tell on sight who folks are,unless up close,or hear them talk.
I promise I won’t geek out or go wuzz the term? Fan girl on you Wil. It’s not me anyway. A handshake if you’re game is enough.:)
Henry Rollins says that when you are broken, you are mature.
They say that Henry Rollins is an overwhelmingly nice and polite guy, despite his appearance.
I doubt I’d freak out like that, but then, I’m not impressed by celebrities in general.
Oh God, I had a very similar experience when I met Lou Reed. I mean, come on, LOU REED. Not only a seminal figure in music history, I had seen him perform all of “Magic and Loss” that evening. I had recently lost my mom to cancer, and as I was incoherently babbling about how much the album and especially the performance had meant to me, inside I was thinking “Oh my God, this is the notoriously cranky Lou Reed, you are making a FOOL of yourself!!” But he was completely gracious. When he died last year, I cried.
Wow – what an experience! To meet someone in person who has been such a positive example and force in your life. Any one of us would have turned into a spaz — God knows I would have. Thanks for sharing that Wil.
I’ve had several chances to meet Henry over the years and I have turned them all down for this exact reason. I feel such a connection to him and his work has really meant a lot to me. I know there is no way I could say anything to him that he hasn’t heard a thousand times and I just can’t stand the thought of making him internally roll his eyes at whatever stream of consciousness pours forth from my mouth. I think you were brave for even trying and I hope you let yourself off the hook about it.
I used to hang out in downtown Ann Arbor when I was in college, and would go to the original Borders bookstore there… now closed. One night, I go in and a guy is doing a reading, and a signing… afterward he is walking around and I notice I’m a good half foot taller than him, but he looks fierce… Henry Fucking Rollins. That was kinda cool.
It’s nice to know even those who get fangirled on, can be blabbering fangirls. So, eventually, someday, maybe, if I’m at the same place you are and it gets awkward and weird, I’ll make eye contact and say “Henry Fucking Rollins.”
Also, I’m sad that you might not be able to get that tattoo now, because it would remind you of the time you lost your shit. Would that matter?
Whoa,what a day you had Wil . I’m positive he understands How’s your voice?
Oh my gosh, Wil… I love this so much. I’ve been there, and it’s embarrassing to admit but later on I laughed about it. My brain shut down twice when I saw you at a gaming convention walking down the street, and I decided it would be better for both of us if I just left you alone.
Truth be told -I’ve always regretted not shaking your hand and telling you how much I love your blog. So be proud -at least you told him how much you respected him. =)
It’s okay to spaz. I totally spazzed when I met LeVar Burton, merely because of how much his work influenced my life and improved my childhood. I wasn’t able to read until I was in 4th grade, due to a variety of causes, but everyday, I would watch Reading Rainbow, and having LeVar as a sort of literary mentor fostered a love of reading and of books which I’ve carried with me throughout my life, so much so that when I could read, I read every book in my local library. Now, being a writer and a classics advocate, Reading Rainbow and LeVar’s current work means more to me than ever– so when I met him at ComicCon, I thought I was prepared to tell him, “Hello, LeVar. My name is Michelle and I’ve been waiting 30 years to meet you,” in classic Inigo Montoya fashion, I did not come out with the composure I had expected. I had begun well, shaking his hand and exchanging the general pleasantries, but when I told him that I had been waiting to meet him and that he was responsible for my love of literature and my career in general, he took my hand, gave me an earnest look, and said, “Tell me about yourself,” in that caring and paternal fashion, that I had to spaz. There was a pause, a hard look was exchanged, and then I proceeded to bawl myself into a shambling wreck, blubbering through sentences without knowing what I was saying. I said something about my not being able to read until I was in 4th grade and something about how important he was to me, but I hardly knew what happened after that. I just remember someone asking me if I was okay and I seem to recall a picture taken in there somewhere, but it was all over in a blur of tears, and my only thought was, “Oh, God– I met my hero, and I totally spazzed.” We all spaz, Wil. Just some spaz worse than others.
You know what I get out of this post is that you are down to earth. I have met a few celebrities in my time and all of them so far have treated me like I was some spec of dirt that happened to be in front of them. With the exceptions of those I waited in line to get an autograph. They were mostly gracious but still kind of “here now could you please go!” I realize that is the nature of the beast with something like five hundred people behind me. And now I am babbling on.
But I appreciate you being vulnerable and sharing this. It makes you more human to those who only know you as a face on TV and the internet (because you haven’t invited me to play on TableTop with you haha http://www.youtube.com/JaqJaqAndPaqPaq, like how I snuck in a plug for my son and I’s channel :)).
So I rambled and babbled on just to say thanks for posting. π
Pat
I’ve always been intrigued by Henry Rollins and have been meaning to go back and check out the Black Flag back catalog.
Wil or others – Where would be the best place to start? Any top songs that are “must haves”?
i really like ‘the first four years’ and ‘damaged’. almost any song on either are pretty awesome.
I met him once. Was working at a big box bookstore and he came in with some friends. As usual when I recognized an author I grabbed up all of the stuff we had in stock, took them over to a desk near where he was, out of the way, and asked if he wanted to sign our stock. Usually authors are delighted by this. He glared at me. I said, “It’s all right if you don’t, just thought I could put ‘signed by the author’ stickers on them and make a cool display but whatever…” and started to walk away. He gruffly picked up a pen and signed them all. As he was doing so a guy from the music department came over acting pretty much the way you described yourself and asked him to sign some CDs. He glared at him as well but I think he signed them. He seemed to chill out after a minute and shook our hands and went off with his friends. Guess he just gets his guard up for some public encounters or something.
I had a similar experience with Gillian Anderson when she was signing after a Streetcar Named Desire performance. In my head I was going to be all cool and explain to her about how her performances as a tough professional woman in law enforcement in X-Files and The Fall inspired me to be a criminal prosecutor and help victims of sexual assault. I’m like “I’m a professional public speaker! I can do this!” In reality… I don’t even know what I said, but I could barely breathe, and she looked at me with… compassion? (sigh)
I guess you just can’t control these things!
I love his new show, “Ten things you don’t know about…” It’s fabulous. He’s a great host. And he’s super smart which makes watching it a lot of fun.
On a fan level, how do you deal with those people who ask you the same questions you’ve heard a million times? Or tell you things that you’ve also heard more times than you can count? It’s weird being a fan. I’ve had the chance to meet people a few times, but I didn’t think that what I had to say was unique in any way, so I didn’t do it. Should fans just go for it or is it better for us to just walk away?
Unless the Internet is broken, it’s just a matter of time before Henry Rollins is following you on Twitter.
Just sayin’…
I’m a touch older than you, Wil, and I actually met Henry Rollins when I was in high school and Black Flag was still, you know, Black Flag. It’s a long story, but we ate pizza together in the back of his van for 20 minutes and talked (at his insistence) about the Grateful Dead. I’ll never forget it.
“…shaking the hand that hit Tina,” is, I believe, how he described meeting Ike Turner
I actually had a similar experience meeting Avery Brooks. We apparently went to the same college, so when I saw his name as a person being honored at an alumni event, I just HAD to go, never dreaming I’d actually meet Commander Sisko himself.
As I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, so I went to the dinner by myself, so had to make small talk with other alumni, all of whom were at least ten years older than me. I mentioned to someone that I was a “real trekkie” and just had to come to see Avery Brooks. I had made the mistake of saying this in front of the social butterfly of the event, who (apparently not at all intimidated by meeting the COMMANDER OF A SPACE STATION!) went right up to Mr. Brooks and brought him over directly to me!
I think I said something about how I’m a geek and a fan and that I work with a woman who used to work with his wife. He just kind of looked at me, nodded, kind of smiled, shook my hand and said “thank you.”
I think he wasn’t expecting to meet a fan-girl at a college event, years after the last episode of DS9 aired. He seemed a little uncomfortable, but he’s also always struck me as a bit of a strange guy, so maybe that’s just how he is.
He turned away from me and realized that his seat at his table was about three feet from my seat at my table. I bet I surprised him by leaving him alone the rest of the night.
Haha. Well maybe you’ll take it easy on me if I get a chance to shake your hand. I’ll be just as awkward. Hopefully I won’t have to negotiate a door afterwards.
you are on the facebook page of d&d . you really should get a fb page
https://www.facebook.com/dungeonsanddragons?fref=ts
I have been reading your blog for years, and, at this point we all know that you are scared of people, suffer from anxiety, and are sometimes mean to people who want to get your autograph. In fact, when I saw you walking through O’Hare airport, I so so freaked out about you flipping out if a stranger approached you that I went scurrying in the other direction. Now, to LEARN that YOU approached one of YOUR personal hero’s and bugged him, expressing hero worship its completely comical. You don’t even eat your own dog food or practice what you preach. Its bizarre that I am fascinated with you in the first place. I grew up thinking that Startrek TNG was amazing, an by proxy, thought the crew members including Ensign Wesley Crusher were amazing, only to learn that you didn’t know how good you had it when you were on star trek, and don’t suffer fools like me who had bizarre plan to get your autograph, say hey, wow TNG was cool, because I spent my formative years thinking how cool TNG was. But your not into that. Fan’s scare you. And the only way to get you autograph is to pay $400 bucks for a meet and greet when one of the rare CON’s include you to participate, which is few and far between. Its glorious that you don’t live by your own mantra’s, hassling that poor musician. #hypocrite. the more we learn about the real Will Wheaton, the more interesting the picture becomes.
I didn’t get the sense the man was “harrassed”. It was pure accidental happenstance at a workplace. Admiration for their work was expressed admist a plethora of nerves,nothing more nothing less. No hypocrisy just life happening. Wil is human like the rest of us.
Good for you T’mihn for responding to Kiki’s post in a rational, and kind way. You show understanding, empathy, and compassion for Wil without calling out kiki’s rudeness or maybe anger? I don’t know what to call it, but I do appreciate you and I am maybe sad to see Kiki is so upset.
I agree, Debbie, well said.
I’m sad she’s upset to. ( Just might be having a crappie day,and it’s nothing to do with the post.
It’s freaking scary meeting new people Espcially someone who is on TV/Radio on a daily/-weekly basis. It’s almost as if it’s a friend ,until they are in your face. And it’s an “ahh,frak..now what do I say.” Moment . It’s when it’s a massive convention crowd all behind you . (
#dbad
So, this leaves me with the question: how else are you supposed to respond when you meet someone who you’re a huge fan of in the “your work has been crucial to my emotional health” sort of way?
I mean, I hate meeting the celebrities that I admire for this very reason–I’m awful at small talk with normal people, let alone with people whose work I deeply admire–and the only reason I’m talking to them is because I want them to know how much I appreciate their work.
Is there a good way to do that WITHOUT making the person you’re talking to extremely uncomfortable?
Jake,
Just say hello. Be polite. and don’t mention the actor/author’s etc cetera body of work at all. Unless they bring it up. I just say hi, and I ask how they are liking the city they are in. If they ask about good places to eat,I tell em. I also keep an eye out if the guest has been sitting around without a break at their table when its slammed with lines of folks. At a lul,I ask if they need a drink/food or a break to use the bathroom. It’s usually appreciated.
I met Henry Rollins 6 years ago, in a bookstore in L.A. IT took me about 10 minutes to get up the courage to walk up to him. Ultimately I ended up striking up a conversation with him over the history book he had in his hand. I had read it, and he asked for my opinion on it. We talked for about 15 minutes, and I told him the usual stuff. Hes awesome, smart blah blah blah. He was super nice, super polite and just a genuine nice guy. Wil, maybe next time, you will have better luck.
That’s nothing. A couple of years ago I sent a snarky email to what I thought was the tech support line for the online presence of a person who’s work I admire. (Thereby violating the don’t be a dick rule, even though my frustration was arguably justified.) I was completely mortified to get a response from the person whose work I admire. It’s not possible to stammer in an email, or I would have. I said nice things. I’m sure it didn’t matter.
Oh and…. reading your writing helps me write. I’m grateful for that so thank you. I’m not any good, but it makes me happy anyway, and that makes it worth it.
Nice. I worked in both the music and film industries, so I never got spazed about any particular artist. But I once geeked out embarrassingly after meeting my favourite social scientist whom I had been referencing in papers for years.
I, also met Henry Rollins once about 20 years ago. He and Ice-T were speaking at my university and later at the Civil Rights Museum here. I followed them from place to place and as they were leaving the museum, I cranked up my car about 20 feet away. I forgot that I had a Rollins Band cd in my stereo and was mortified when it began playing at maximum volume.
I met Steve-O from Jackass for the first time about 4 years ago at a book signing. I couldn’t speak. I gawked, I blushed, I didn’t say a word. My husband told him how much I had loved his book and how glad I was that he sobered up and didn’t die on us. I made a self-deprecating comment about my weight when he asked me to sit on the table next to him. (I was 165 lbs heavier then.) I think they were the only words I spoke to him and he seemed sad to hear them.
In the years since, I’ve met him many more times at his comedy shows, embarrassed myself a few more times, and now he recognizes me, greets me with a kiss, we chat, we joke, I constantly hit on his personal assistant. It’s amazing when you get to meet your heroes!
I hope that one day, Henry Rollins kisses you on the cheek.
That is cool that Steve is so nice, some “stars” aren’t so nice, and now you are comfortable with him That last line made me snicker. π Although, Wil might wanna share a beer than a kiss π
I met him at a Sons of Anarchy premiere. I had seen him and told myself I should not go up to him because I knew that I would act like an idiot. When later on he was waiting for someone near the restrooms I saw he was by himself and I could not help myself. I have no idea what I said, all I know is that I babbled at him about how much I admired him. Then I practically screamed “OKBYEEEE” at him and ran away. Still my most awkward celeb encounter but I still love it because I MET HENRY FREAKIN ROLLINS!
Dear Wil — this post made me laugh, made me recognize myself, activated my empathy circuits . . . thanks for writing! Thank you so much for writing this blog. Thank you.
Here is where I put on my Grandpa-Simpson-Old-Punk-Costume…
I saw Black Flag many times before Henry was in the band, and went to many house parties where they played in the garage. When Henry joined he was definitely cultivating the “don’t talk to me, I am very angry” vibe. Chuck, Dez, Chavo and (later) Bill were super nice guys at the parties, though…
Well, now I feel better about how I acted when I met you at PAX in 2010! Ha ha! Except I couldn’t speak, so I guess we had the opposite problem. π
This is why I can’t meet Nathan Fillion. I would be immediately reduced to blubbering idiot.
Wil-
I like to think that Henry Rollins went home that night and told a friend “Holy shit! I just met WIL FREAKIN’ WHEATON!!”
Dude, almost did the same damn thing when I met Leonard Nimoy a few years ago… and not a chance meeting, not a con sighting, but actually being introduced by my wife Roni, who was a model for his Full Body project of photography. It was at a memorial for one of the other models which, in a very odd way, helped; I kept thinking “today is for Heather, not my inner 12 year old fan boy losing it completely because he’s meeting the actor who has pretty much defined one of your favorite characters… EVER”.
I did, however, completely lose it in spectacular fan boy fashion several hours later in the parking structure as Roni looked on, bemused (but totally getting it). I am, after all, only human… and a geek.
Glad to hear you’re doing another audio book! I just finished listening to Ready Player One and thought you did a great job. Cool that you got mentioned as being on the players council in book too! Keep up the great stuff!
How interesting for you to see it from the other side of the fence, as you must experience people melting down upon meeting you on a near-daily basis. I’ve been mostly-cool with legends who really meant something to me- sat in Howard Zinn’s living room during an interview! Had Stephen King as a writing teacher! Spoke with HARLAN FUCKING ELLISON- and managed to not make a fool of myself! But when I finally get to meet you, I may want to cram hours of meaningful talk into a 30-second babbling rant, until the security people pull me away. Better if we could sit over a craft beer and chat for a few hours.
And it’s not ST fanboy stuff- hell, I’m way older than you, and at conventions I’m meeting many stars of TV, film, and writing. You are impressive because you turned things around and climbed out of the huge dark hole you were in. I read your blog about your journey, and how you fought to shape your life into a happier, healthier way of living, while making things better for others. How you overcame armies of trolls whose only purpose was to make you feel bad. How you continually work to understand and overcome your fears and shortcomings, and how you share your journey so others can take courage and improve their lives. That’s the kind of stuff I admire you for.
The rush of so many emotions and thoughts in so short a time gets overwhelming. How does one pack so much into a quick “Howdy” before the idol gets whisked away? Guess this is a problem for most people, and once more you’ve shown you’re as susceptible as we are.
Dare I suggest you’re being too hard on yourself, Wil? You are- despite an impressive level of awesomeness- still human, and you are entitled to have your brain shut down on occasion just like the rest of us. =p