Monthly Archives: March 2004

symphony in c

Anne worked late tonight, and I was too lazy to cook dinner, so I took the kids to a local hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint where we all love to eat. Especially when it means an opportunity to get away from “all that stupid healthfood” I like to cook (according to Nolan).
Ryan told me about a debate he had in school about media, and how media influences people, especially children. I realize that I’m not the most impartial observer here, but I was very impressed with the clarity of his arguments, and his responses to my challenges. In the end, we decided that media is a big influence in kid’s lives, but so are their parents (or at least, they should be.)
Nolan tuned us out most of dinner, and watched the NCAA tournament on a TV that hangs in the back of the restaurant, but he did add, “I think that kids want to be cool, and they see these people on MTV, like Outkast and Britney Spears, and the kids see how much attention they are getting, so they want to be like them. So the kids can think they’re cool.”
Like I said, I’m not the most impartial observer here, but I was impressed again by the depth of his thinking.
On the way to the car after dinner, Ryan said, “Hey, Wil, can we go . . . somewhere?”
“Somewhere? What do you mean?”
“I mean, anywhere that’s not home. I just want to hang out.”
“Yeah,” Nolan said, “I want to just hang out, too.”
I thought for a second about where we could go to just hang out. Before I could answer, Ryan said, “Hey! Why don’t we go home and play D&D?!”
I winced. “Oh man, I would love to do that, but I have been working so much, I haven’t had time to finish the adventure. I’ll work on it over the weekend, I promise.”
“Are you working a lot, now?” Nolan asked.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” The answer surprised me. “I’m on a deadline for Just A Geek, and I’m doing publicity for Dancing Barefoot . Plus, I got a job writing a monthly column for a magazine, and a bi-monthly column for another one.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of work,” he said.
I smiled. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?! I didn’t realize that. Plus, this animation thing seems to be picking up.”
“That’s cool,” Nolan said, as we all piled into my car. “Does that mean we get to put air conditioning in our house?”
We’ve suffered through five brutal summers without A/C, and every time we think we’re going to get it, something unexpected comes up, and we buy a 15 dollar fan instead.
“Yeah. I think it does. We’ll have to see what the royalties are next quarter.” I pulled away from the curb.
“So . . . can we go do something? Ryan said.
“Yes. Yes we can.” I said.
“Oh! What?!” He said.
“Yeah! What?!” Nolan said.
“We can . . .” I paused dramatically, “Go to,” another pause, “the carwash!”
In unison, they said, “Oh man!”
I laughed. “C’mon! It’ll be an event. I haven’t washed my car in two months.”
Before they could say anything, I dug up the most saccharine voice I could muster and said, “I really want you guys to be part of this.”
We all laughed, and turned up XM. It was Rush played “Limelight” on Top Tracks.
“What the hel– er, heck is this?” Ryan said.
I affected a gasp. “Ryan, it’s RUSH! Your mom hates Rush, so whenever she’s not in the car, I crank it up.”
And I did. I cranked it up, and sang:
“Living in the limelight
The universal dream
For those who wish to seem
Those who wish to be
Must put aside the alienation,
Get on with the fascination,
The real relation,
The underlying theme.”
Then there was much air guitar, and drumming on my dashboard.
In a dry voice, Ryan said, “Yeah, you see, this sort of undermines your whole, ‘your parents influence you’ thing that you said at dinner.”
I held up a finger, finished a drum solo, and turned the radio down.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“I mean . . .” he paused. I looked over at him and saw his brow furrow. “I mean, kids at school tell me I’m funny, and my teachers tell me I’m a good writer. I obviously get that from you.”
He said it with total nonchalance, like it was just an accepted fact.
It took every ounce of self-control I have in my body and soul to not burst into tears. Ryan’s never told me that he gets anything from me. For most of our life together, there’s been an unspoken distance, a gap that I didn’t open, but could only be closed by him. In that moment, Ryan built a bridge. I don’t know how long it will stay there, but I intend to cross it every chance I get.
“Wil?”
“What?”
“Did you hear me?”
Of course, I was off in the magic land of Stepparentia, and I did not.
“Sorry, I was . . . thinking about something,” I said. “Tell me again.”
“I said that I obviously get my musical tastes from my mom. Except for the emo stuff that you like, and Cake.” He frowned. “Okay, so maybe I just get my 80s musical tastes from my mom.” He frowned again. “Okay, what I mean is, I have gotten a lot of influences from both of you.”
From both of you.
I nodded my head, and swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I think I get it.”
“Hey, when this song is over, can I put in a CD?” He said.
“Yeah! Put in a CD!” Nolan said.
I looked back at him in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, Wil,” he said, “but Rush sucks.”
I chuckled. “You are totally your mother’s son.”
The song ended, and Ryan put Comfort Eagle into the CD player. He skipped ahead to the title track, and the three of us sang along together.
“He is in the music business
He is calling you DUDE!”
We pulled into the Chevron station where the carwash is located.
“I’ll be right back, you guys.” I hopped out of the car, and ran in to buy my ticket.
I wish I could hear the attendant tell the story of the guy who came in tonight and wiped tears from his eyes while he ordered “The Works.”

mister worf, you have a tell. please don’t kill me.

Poker Blogger Grubette (inventor the The Hammer Challenge) sent me this informative and hilarious breakdown of poker players as Star Trek aliens:

Alien race #1: The Klingons. Even people who don’t like Star Trek have heard of the Klingons, those ferocious warriors whose foreheads grew considerably lumpier in the interim between the original Star Trek show and Next Generation.
The Klingons represent the ultimate in aggression and courage, two traits that grow more and more important to success the higher you go up the poker ladder (that is, as the opposition grows tougher or the stakes get higher). The Klingon saying, “Today is a good day to die,” doesn’t mean they have a death wish. It means that they aren’t going to let the fear of death interfere with their best efforts as a warrior.
As a poker player, you’re constantly faced with situations that generate fear: surprises, famous opponents, the huge payoffs that get close as you advance far into a big tournament, and more. How you face that fear will have a lot to say about how successful you become. You can’t play poker scared. You can’t be worried that your opponent always has the best possible hand, or that a Famous Player is so much better than you that you have no chance.

He also covers Betazoids, Romulans, Vulcans . . . even the Borg make an appearance.

drunken lullabies

I’ve got a Saint Patrick’s Day story up at the old Cult of the One Eyed Cat
Here’s a taste:

I was well into my fifth Guinness when I saw the leprechaun. He sat at the edge of the bar, gazing sadly at something in his wee hand.
I looked around the pub. Nobody else seemed to notice him, so I casually stood up, held onto the bar for balance, and moved to the seat next to him.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but are you a leprechaun?
He quickly closed his wee hand into a wee fist, and looked up at me. In a wee voice he said, “Aye, laddie. Me name’s O’Malley.”
I looked around again. It was only ten in the morning, so the only other people in the bar were three professional drunks and the barkeep, who was watching Arsenal beat the crap out of Blackburn on the TV.
“Can anyone else see you?” I said.
He sighed a wee sigh. “There used to be a time when the whole world could see me. But now, I’m only visible to people who are drinking Guinness.”

BUT! Before you read mine, you simply must read Kathleen’s How to Survive a Pub Crawl with Real Irishmen:

St. Patrick’s Day is almost upon us. It’s a glorious holiday, filled with song, dance, green beer, and even greener vomit. Many of you have plans to celebrate this fantastic holiday by driving the snakes out of Ireland, or wearing a shamrock to signify your solidarity with the Irish people. Or, like most of us, you’re planning to get so drunk that you forget you have opposable thumbs.
But if you’re up for a real challenge, something that will require you to gather all the strength, courage, and liver fortitude you can muster, we’ve got you covered. We give you: the guide to surviving a pub crawl with real Irishmen.

Oh, and I just want to add one editorial comment for everyone out drinking today: putting green dye into Corona doesn’t make it IRISH, you fokkin’ bastards. Hoist a pint of Guinness, or get the hell out of my bar.

the sea is a cruel mistress

There are few things I look forward to as much as working on Teen Titans. It’s fun, it’s relatively easy, and it’s incredibly satisfying. I’ve had such a great time doing it, and I had such a great time when I voiced several characters for the Xbox port of Crimson Skies, I’ve been making a sacrifice to the voice over gods nighty, and wishing for more VO work.
Today, I get my wish. (Which is a good thing, because all those frozen weasels were getting expensive.)Walt Disney Television Animation came to my voice over agent last week, and requested me for a new show they’re doing called — get this — Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!
It reads like a crazy anime-styled show for younger kids, and I get to play “Skurg” the evil leader of a Soturix 7, who wears armor of bone.
Heh. It’s going to be a lot of fun.
In Dancing Barefoot news, I watched it climb Amazon’s charts yesterday, peaking at 188 (!) around midnight when I went to bed. I hear that it went all the way up to 177 after I went to bed. Right now, it’s at 210, with an average review of 4.5 stars!!! I am deeply grateful to everyone who has made this happen.

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