Last night I watched an amazing episode of TNG called Family.
It is a truly wonderful episode that focuses on the human element of Star Trek. It is very dark and very heavy. It deals with the consequences of some very serious events from earlier in the series: Picard’s assimilation by the Borg and subsequent stint as Locutus, Worf facing his parents for the first time since his discommendation in Sins of the Father, and Wesley’s first face-to-face meeting with his father, Jack Crusher, via a holographic message which Jack made for him when Wesley was born.
It is a fantastic opportunity for the Patrick, Michael and me to take a brilliant script, filled with wonderful dialogue and complex relationships, and show the world what we can do as actors.
Partick and Michael are brilliant. They make the very most of every single scene, especially when Michael deals with the conflict between Worf’s need to
suffer for his discommendation with his obvious love for his parents,
and when Patrick finally lets Picard’s fall completely
apart as he acknowledges how helpless he felt at Wolf-359 and deals with its aftermath. It is a Ron Moore script that previews the depth and pathos that I have come to love on Battlestar Galactica, and they are absolutely outstanding in it.
And me? Ron gave me a chance to really shine, to explore some complex emotion and take Wesley beyond the two-dimensional caricature I often complained he’d become. I finally had a chance to explore and perform a human side of Wesley as he sees the face of his father and hears his voice for the first time in his life. I finally had a chance to really do something after years of saying "Aye, sir, warp six, sir" . . . and I fucking phoned it in. I sat there and I made all my stupid little faces and acted like I cared, but It’s painfully clear that I was halfway out the door. I totally and completely blew it. I was ashamed as I watched my eighteen year-old self last night, and rather disgusted by the time my scenes were over.
I looked extremely tanned, so the episode was probably shot in summer, and I’m sure I would have rather been at the beach with my friends instead of wearing a spacesuit on stage nine, but it’s no excuse. I was expected to be professional and do my job, and instead I was a bullshit hack who didn’t show up for work. I suppose the director could have knocked me into shape, but who knows what was going on at the time for him? And who knows if I would have even listened to him? After all, I was eighteen and I knew everything. I had the whole world figured out.
There were so many opportunities in that scene: opportunities to look at him and try to see myself in his eyes or hear myself in his voice; opportunities to make a rare emotional connection with a scene that didn’t involve a lot of techno babble and opportunities to just be simple and honest and truthful. As an actor, I should have thought about all the things we never got to do together, I should have done everything I could to stretch the moment out as long as possible, so the audience is left thinking that Wesley is going to sit in that holodeck and sob and miss his dad and watch that thing over and over for the next several hours. At the very least, I certainly should have allowed myself to feel the resulting sense of loss, but as a fucking douchebag teenager I didn’t feel anything. I’m pretty sure I walked into stage nine completely full of myself, and didn’t stop checking my watch until I was done with the scene.
Jesus, what a pathetic waste. What a complete and total fucking waste. On that day, I didn’t deserve to wear that uniform, and I certainly didn’t earn the right to call myself an actor.
It is such a great episode, and I’m so ashamed and disappointed that I didn’t realize it at the time.
Ron, if you happen to read this: I am so sorry. When I saw you at Grand Slam, I thanked you for all the gifts you gave
me over the years; I’d forgotten about this one (probably because I
didn’t appreciate it at the time, in all my teenage arrogance and I am so sorry that I disrespected your work and didn’t honor the gift you gave me. Your work deserved better, and I was too much of an idiot to live up to the material. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to create something so wonderful, only to watch it destroyed by an arrogant and entitled teenager. I am so, so sorry.
I have learned much since I was eighteen. In fact, I became aware of what a douche I was about a year after I filmed this episode, and realized that I need to get the hell out of Hollywood and find out who I really was and who I wanted to be. I spent the next three years working all that shit out, looking at myself in the mirror every day until I could truly say that I liked the person I saw reflected back.
These days, I don’t take anything for granted, and I always do my very best to rise to the challenge of the material I’m lucky enough to be given. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, because the person I am today grew out of the person I once was . . . but I’d sure like a chance to take that wonderful material and do it justice.
Hopefully, I’ll get to watch an episode tonight that I can feel proud of.
(image from Memory Apha)
Afterthought – I put a version of this in comments, but here it is for the rest of all y’all (or is it all y’alls? all of y’alls?): It is important to me to examine and reflect on my life, whether it’s something I’m fiercely proud of, like my performance in Best of Both Worlds I & II, or something I’m not proud of, like the things I’ve written about here.
When Family was over last night, I had a visceral feeling of shame and regret as strong as the feeling of terror I had writing about my first day of high school yesterday. It’s lived in me all day, so I finally decided to write about it tonight.
I don’t intend for this to become some sort of big pity party for me or
anything, and by writing this, I don’t feel that I’m sitting in a funk,
dwelling on the past, wasting he present (I’ve done lots of that in the last few years, and I think I’ve hung on that cross enough, thank you.)
I absolutely love who I am today, both as a creative writer/actor and as a person. When everything is stripped away and I am left with nothing but my naked soul, I am very comfortable with what I have. I wouldn’t have that if I didn’t reflect on all the peaks and valleys of my life, including moments like these.
Now that I think of it, if I didn’t have such respect for Ron Moore, and if I hadn’t just seen him two weeks ago, I may not have had such a profoundly powerful reaction to my performance (or lack thereof) in his episode.
Anyway, if I didn’t tear down the wall from time to time, I’d just sit here and wait for the worms to come, and nobody wants that. Trust me.
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Jeepers, Wil, don’t beat yourself up. We would all love to do that age over, but we can’t.
Wil,
It’s good you learned, and it’s good you grew, and it’s good you acknowledged your debts…but lighten up. That’s why they call it “experience”…because you had to go through something in order to learn something you would have no way of knowing otherwise.
Wil,
May I also say how grateful I am that my own bone-headed teenage years aren’t documented in film and iconic television for all to see? Seriously, Wil, you’ve got nothin’ on most kids that age…just, your stuff is on film for you to see in all it’s glory, is all. The rest of us get to gloss it over with the blissfull editing software that is the human memory.
I think it’s a prerequisite to be a jackass at that age.
Aawwwwwww…
I’m sorry you feel that way sweetie. Sure, you could have done more with the episode, but like the others said, you were 18, and you were a celebrity with fame getting to your head. But it could have been worse. You could have totally screwed it up, and had people criticizing you for that forever.
Sweetie, don’t beat yourself up about it. Your fan wagon still loves you 😛
And we especially love these heartfelt posts. Especially those that give us special insight into the world of Star Trek.
Wil, don’t beat yourself to death over this. I’m with the other posters (all two of them as I type), especially Kemaris – you had to be a pod person on camera for all the world to see. It’s sad that you feel like you threw away an opportunity, but you’ve obviously grown and learned since then.
Your post here makes me think about my own greatest hits as a teenager. I know how hard it is to cringe at memories. Apologizing to the people who you think you’ve disappointed is a big step. The absolute hardest part is forgiving yourself. Hang in there.
Hey Wil–Just sort of echoing what others are saying here, but I’m sure if all of us had our 18 year old self in film form we’d be disgusted with how we all “phoned in” life at that point. I think about this often when I think of young stars like Lindsay Lohan who get a bad rap for doing stupid things, and I think, “how many of us didn’t do stupid shit when we were that age? We just didn’t have the film crew or the ET types to point it out over and over.” I sympathize with people like that, and I sympathize with you for looking back and feeling that way.
For the record–and I mean this, though you may doubt it–that is one of my favourite episodes of TNG, especially that moment.
My father died almost two years ago and I often picture an opportunity like the one Wesley has in that episode–to see and hear him again. The closest I get are dreams, which are a “holodek” in themselves, I suppose.
Just know that your performance may not have struck others the way it did your watchful eye. Just like we don’t see all the takes that contain mistakes (save for on blooper reels), we don’t see the depth of what you were dealing with in your personal life on that screen. What I see there is a kid who’s confused and hurt and trying to come to terms with what he’s seeing–it strikes me as being very real and very moving.
So, there. Take that, for what it’s worth.
Nobody’s perfect. And you “phoning it in” is still better than Tom Cruise’s best day’s work. So, ha!
I’m not an actor, so I can’t say if you lived up to your potential that day, but from where I’m sitting it was believable, emotional and enjoyable to watch. Coulda, shoulda, woulda won’t help you any now, Wil. If anything I think you should beat yourself up for beating yourself up! (Not that you’re not entitled to vent now and again)
I love that episode and always try to catch it when it re-airs. If you are determined to watch Family and see the downside then you should definitely watch First Duty and see the upside. It’s only fair.
Hey Will, how many things can most of us point to from age 18 and say “hey I handled that beautifully!”?
At age 18 most of us experimented with things we shouldn’t have and were awful to the people who loved us the most. I am so lucky that the world won’t remember me as the partially head-shaven, combat boot wearing in-your-face teenager I was. I look back at your work on ST:TNG with fondness because I was a teeager too and could relate to you. Looking at Ron’s work through a 30-something’s experience isn’t what he was looking for. He was looking for a teenager’s experice to show through, it did. But we all love you for the inner dialog anyway!
Oh, and I didn’t intend to throw a big pity-party for myself. I just had this visceral reaction to the show last night, it’s been sitting with me all day long, and I felt like marking this moment in my blog.
We know that Wil!! And hey how come no poker tonight?
Wil, first off, I’d just like to say that I love the title to this post, because it’s a quote from one of my favorite Tears for Fears songs of all time. Hawesome title!
As far as you lamenting what happened all those years ago when you were exerting your perfectly normal teenaged arrogance, just keep in mind that as cliché as it sounds, when you dwell on the things that you’ve done in the past, you’re only robbing yourself of your future.
I happen to think that who you are in the present day is a person that I honestly and completely admire, and I’m sure that I’m not alone with my opinion of you.
We do continue to come back and read your entries day after day, after all. Never doubt the Monkeys, Wil, we love you and what you have to say, because you let us into your world and make us feel like we’re a part of it. So thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, it’s truly appreciated!
Now smile, mmmkay?
you missed quite a few minutes of your present, while writing and dwelling on your past.
hmmmm…i dunno…seems like a waste of time.
but that’s just my opinion.
i’m not very familiar with your acting work, but find your writing very interesting.
good luck w/ things.
Try looking at it differently. Instead of looking at it as a wasted opportunity, take your entire body of work and watch the progression. You will see a lot peaks and a lot of valleys in your performances. But I think you will see that with each successive job your peaks get higher and the valleys shallower.
There is know way you were near the actor you are today back then. So stop holding your younger days to the same standards you hold your self to today.
Thanks for the honest words, it’s one of the reasons why I keep coming back to your site everyday.
Cheers!
I remember that episode: the first time I saw it, I was watching it from my sister-in-law’s patio (because she was living in a “nonsmoking” rental and I was a practicing smoker at the time), and I distinctly remember watching the suave Captain Picard rolling around in the mud with another middle-aged man and thinking, “That has to be his brother; only a sibling can make you that crazy.”
(Of course I was right.)
That remembrance having been shared–
Hang the cross back up on the wall, Wil: you were EIGHTEEN years old! No one, yourself included (and in this case, *especially* you), should expect “professional” behavior from an eighteen-year-old. I have a theory, based on my own experience as a teenager and as the mother of three former teenagers: kids are born with brain *cells*, but these cells don’t actually coallesce into a *brain* until said child is 25 or so. You didn’t appreciate the opportunity you were given: typical. You now cringe to have to watch your teenage behavior: also typical. Most of us are far luckier: there is no permanent record of our idiot-selves as teenagers that we are forced to watch over and over. So maybe you’ve got a heavier karmic load, but I’d doubt it; we all of us have things we’d rather were buried that nevertheless come to light.
In any case, for your own sanity and sense of wellbeing, learn to enjoy this episode for the good in it. Is there one among us who wouldn’t dearly love to go back and change some action we committed as an idiotic teenager? Of course not. So welcome to adulthood: learn to live with the moron you were, learn the lessons thereof, and move on.
Oh, magdala, my disappointment in myself notwithstanding, I absolutely love this episode. I love how it has minimal technobabble bullshit, and how we get to see Picard deal with the reality of his assimilation into the Borg. I’ve often wished that we could have seen even more of that, and even more of how he dealt with the aftermath of “The Inner Light.”
I’m not hanging up on the cross, I swear! Check out my afterthought, which I probably posted while you were commenting.
And I’m sorry, but I don’t get a pass just because I was 18. Regardless of my age, I was a professional, expected to do a job to the fullest of my abilities, and I know that I was capable of more than I gave in that episode. Look at The First Duty and Final Mission for examples.
Hi!
What, you were 18? No way.
Somehow, he always was this “old soul” Wesley Crusher. And if Wesley would have broken into tears for hours in that episode, it wouldn’t have been Wesley Crusher.
Its over now. Wesley was a great character. And we certainly liked him. At least I did.
And lots of people like your Blog stuff.
Wil, we know that you weren’t just fishing for compliments.
Those of us who have read your books and read your blog consistently know that you bear your soul for all of us, and that is one of the main reasons why we admire you so much.
You are sharing your innermost thoughts with us, and that’s what keeps us coming back for more. Don’t change a thing, blog about whatever your heart desires. No matter what, we’re in your corner :-)!
Please, Wil, remove my previous comment! I hate it!
Just kidding (kind of…).
No, honestly, I think you are also a great writer.
Annette
Wil:
I think we all look back at our younger selves and regret that we didn’t have better insight at that time. That just shows us how much we’ve grown since then. Perhaps instead of regret at past actions we should feel good about the things that we’ve learned since then.
I liked that particular episode that you mentioned, as it touched on a variety of relationshops for 3 characters.
My fave Wesley episode was definitely the one where he dropped out of starfleet academy (this was the last episode where Wesley appeared). It was definitely an interesting exploration of an individual is at a crossroads to self-discovery. Congratulations you did a great job.
cheers,
Patricia from Canada
Oh Wil – I’m sure the other comments say this (too many to read right now) but you were a child then. Maybe you were all the things you said you were – arrogant, entitled, etc.- but you’ve grown and changed. Maybe the episode means more to you now for the reasons in your additional note, but I keep thinking of another important aspect. You are a father now in all of the ways that count. Nolan and Ryan mean the world to you. You want them to lead good, meaningful lives and you want to be there for them. But what if you couldn’t? You’d want to leave them something to find, something, like a holodeck message, so that they could hold onto you and you could hold onto them. Maybe that’s why it affected you more, because as a father, you think about these things. And then you saw your younger self going through the motions, and not getting it.
Haven’t read the post, not the comments yet (so I may sound redundant), but a big BooYah of the Tears for Fears quote/title.
I so get that feeling. I totally took for granted some of the wonderful people I got to perform with also. All I have to do is hear a snip of the peices we performed.. and the stomach turns over and I feel embarrassed like it just happened.
It’s not like I dwell on it everyday or something, but I don’t want to forget it either. It’ll make me not take for granted other situations where I might become an @sshat.
Remember the immortal words of William Farking Shatner:
“I need my pain!” 😉
Ahhh… yes… akashik… “Mad World”.
Seriously. One of the very best songs to come outta the 80’s.
Such a distinctive song, I’d peg it for never being able to have a cover version do it justice, but that Michael Andrews version from the Donnie Darko soundtrack is great.
Wil,
I don’t remember all your scenes from this episode, but I do remember (I hope I’m remembering this right 🙂 Wesley seemingly reaching out to the holodeck dad as it was ending and saying “bye dad.” As soon as you mentioned the episode on the entry, that was the first thing I thought of, and though I have no acting expertise whatsoever, I thought you conveyed Wesley’s reaction at that one moment well.
Your self-critiquing is good — without it, you wouldn’t have grown as an actor or a person. Yes, you were a professional, but still just 18, you were still learning about yourself at the time. I’m a journalist, and I sometimes can be haunted at the times when I was 18-23 when I didn’t do a very good job, either, when I froze during an interview or didn’t thoroughly report something, or was just a punk to the good people who were mentoring me. (And at least for a couple years there, I was working for a big-city newspaper, not my college paper.) Even though I wish I could have done better then, those experiences are there and they’re not going away. The best I can do is remember them and realize what I’ve learned from them and apply it to my career and my life today. It sounds like you are doing that too, but it’s not easy, because there’s always a part of all of us that wishes we could get a do-over.
I’m sure I’m rambling now, but I guess what I’m saying is that it’s OK to have the regrets, but to never lose sight that those regrets can be, and have been, constructive, too.
JG
I don’t normally respond to your posts, although I read them frequently, but this one kind of hit me where I live.
I’m not much younger than you, and I’ve found that recently I’ve been spending some time chewing over my past mistakes. In part, this is because I’ve embarked on a new, independent business endeavor, something I last did at the age of 21. When I did it then, I was an irresponsible snot, and my business was not successful because I didn’t put in the work required. I’m now haunted by those mistakes, and every hour that I spend away from my computer, relaxing and having fun, eats at me.
Er, perhaps this means that I have learned the lessons of the past a little too well, and need to find a middle ground. Heh.
At any rate. While I want to give the me of 1998 a serious beat-down, I would have the success I have now without those mistakes. Also, I wouldn’t be as happy – the business that I was (well, businesses – club DJ and graphic designer) weren’t things that I loved as much as I love what I’m doing now. In the latter case, it just happened to be a thing I thought I could make money at. Had I not screwed up then, and in a few really beautiful ways thereafter, I would never have stumbled, completely by accident, upon my dream career.
So, I guess the question I’m asking is: I can see how you are unhappy with your performance then, and how it frustrates you, but do you feel that in some ways it is mistakes like that which led you to writing? Perhaps that’s too simplistic a question.
Wil, I agree you’re being hard on yourself over this episode, but not being an actor myself, I don’t know if I’m a good objective judge. Additionally, it’s been a while since I’ve seen this episode…but I don’t remember thinking you gave a bad performance in it.
One of my favorite scenes in this one was between Guinan and Worf’s parents. She was an awesome character and Whoopi always did a great job playing her.
Wil: It is a part of growing as an artist — any kind of artist — that you can look back on previous work and loathe it. It seems a hard thing, but it is a sign of growth, and a very good one at that.
You have grown personally and as an actor (and writer) since that time. It might be useful to note Family as simply a benchmark of where you were then, like looking at the old crayon scribbles you were proud of when you were six. Cut your previous self some slack. Be proud of your now self.
Hmm… Wonderful update, by the way. Very reflective, I think, of some stuff I’m going through right now. Except that sometimes you don’t like where you were, and sometimes I don’t like where I /am/ on the big road of life. Anyway, excuses (even good ones, like age and lack of experience) can only take you so far past those feelings.
Just don’t forget how far you’ve come since then, and how you’ve gotten back on your Road lately, and that the bad days, along with the good, can only add to your credit as an actor. Can’t improve if (you think) you’re perfect, am I right?
Much love, don’t beat yourself up too hard over this one. =)
P.S. Your titling on this entry made me catch my breath: it’s from “Mad World.” *squee* That’s like, the theme song of Donnie Darko and I am currently in love with both medias. Have you ever seen that movie? *skips away to school now pondering life’s little connections*
Wil,
Not only are the teen years filled with all sorts of angst, but you also got to and/or get to see yours on display for ever and ever along with millions of others. That would be difficult for any of us. You are lucky, very lucky, considering the people your age who were not so fortunate, to have something inside you that kept you grounded and look at the terrific person that you have become. No matter what jobs you do/do not get you still have a remarkable and full life. Many of your peers can not say the same thing.
You are so grounded. Have a great family. Write wonderfully and honestly. That is what keeps me coming back here day to day, the honesty in your writing. You do not put on any airs or have highly unrealistic opinions of yourself.
You have grown up and turned into something wonderful and your family is lucky. So, you may have had some less than professional moments or work that you know you could have put more effort into, but you know what your shortcomings were and have benefited from them and have used it all for your greater good.
It sounds like your experiences have made into a more interesting and thoughtful person.
I just noticed–
That TNG episode is 16 years old!
Now that’s scary!
dude, maybe when you were 18 you were a bit of a dick, but who wasn’t? when i was a kid, you were the first actor that i had a crush on, and it gives me warm fuzzies now to think that i had such awesome taste in tv crushes that now at 23 i can still think you’re awesome and not be embarrassed that i used to be totally in love with you. and, (admittedly in the opinion of someone who doesn’t really know you), you seem to have turned out to be a hella cool person and the fact that you can look back now at that time and recognise that you were being an asshat shows that you totally aren’t one any more. which is a plus, i figure. and maybe you could send ron moore a fruit basket or something, it might make you feel better.
😉
Wil,
Glad to see you recognize the important things and gifts you’ve been given, but don’t beat yourself up.
We were all selfish and self-centered when we were eighteen. But most of us weren’t in the spotlight like you were, which just makes the whole thing harder (and easier to look back at due to TV episodes, etc)
It’s okay to cut yourself some slack.
The sign of growth as an artist is to find an early work, look at it, and cringe.
Artists, like everyone else, learn by doing. And because the nature of creative works, they are often clouded by our mental state and emotional ability at the time. And if you are really lucky, these early works, which are suddenly so embarassing, are there for all the public to see.
Find me an emotionally complex and mature 18 year old and I’ll show you a unicorn.
Thank god I didn’t have to be a “professional” anything at 18. It was hard enough being an amateur me.
Sweet Pink Floyd reference, by the way. Shine on.
I only scanned previous comments, so if I repeat something said…my apologies. But wow! There’s a lot about 18 that I’d like to live over again too. People with a conscience look back on mistakes made in youth and turn them around for the better…and Wil, I think you’ve proven that. You like who you are now as a result. Well done! I agree, we need to stop and reflect sometimes…I think that how we get wiser. At least, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
We all have things we’ve done that we’re not thrilled with, especially at age 18.
But if we didn’t do those things or if other events hadn’t happened in our lives, we would never get to be the people we are today.
The ability to recognize our poor reactions or choices is maturity. It provides you the wisdom to see how you’ve grown. It allows you to be a better husband, parent, actor, person.
You are not the person you were at 18 because you realized there needed to be changes. And it’s harsh having those moments put on on TNG for all the world to see, as most of us don’t have our crap aired over and over except in our heads.
Instead of looking at it as a source of angst, look at it as a testament to the person you are now.
Wil,
I enjoyed reading your post and can relate so well.
My first thought was “I wish I could see bits of myself back then on tv”, but then I thought “No, it’s painful enough with the memories I have. Tv might bring up things I have subconciously chosen to forget and may not ever want or need to remember.”
I was so arrogant at that age that I thought I did no wrong. A curse of the “know it all” attitude.
As a result, now in my 40s I am recalling things the way they really were, rather than how I would’ve preferred to remember them.
I don’t know why I got in to all of that, except that your post triggered those thoughts within me.
You are most definitely not alone.
Katie
Great post, Wil. This is good living and good writing.
It’s also a good reminder to take a look at my past and make sure I’m changing into the man I want to be.
That’s always been one of my favorite episodes. Yes, Picard and Warf both have scenes that may have been a bit more poignant than Wesley’s. Still, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself. I’d always looked at the acting you’d done there as portraying how stunned a kid must feel to be in a situation like that. With the role-models Wesley had, he wouldn’t have been the type to be a whining baby. He would have held some cold dignity about himself like a Cloak of Protection.
Bravo Applause Ovation!!!
Prior responses to you all well said! And let me ask, choices not withstanding, ~
Up to that point, WHAT had you ever lost that had that much meaning to you, so you relate to? A 9/11/ Katrina direct experience? Loss of a parent? Complete loss of identity and self (like River Phoenix et.al. did?)
At this point in your life, like any olympic athlete, you KNEW because life had valadated it, that your sh*t didn’t stink and Disneyland would go on forever. You may not realize that all you do in your acting, is hold a space, an image, that we viewers, out of our own loss, grieving and recapituations fill in depth, and scope to create our own 3-D experience of that episode.
Thank you for holding up the mirror for us to look into, of our own moments of woefully inadequate performance and choices. To this day, there are moments when I will bend over in physical pain, mentally yelling Noooooooo at the shame and humiliation around past events/choices, especially when someone else suffered because of my actions.
And with that, that we are here right now, because of your writing, taking a moment to celebrate our own growth and wisdom that today, now, ~ there would be different choices, efforts, actions.
We stand on the shoulders of our teachers. We start, where they left off. This includes the teachers as our younger selves, ~ and those (besides ourselves) who paid the consequenses of those lessons, which down the road, now benefits other’s lives with beauty and power.
Thank you for sharing this memory and reflection!
This reminds me of a conversation I had with my mother yesterday. I recalled something that had bothered me for years, a time when I had accidentally hurt her feelings as a child. To me, it meant everything. It was horrible. She didn’t even remember it.
Most children are not professionals, and as a result we are spared having lasting proof of our screwups (unless it’s REALLY a screwup). Without that episode to remind you, you might have never remembered that day you showed up surly. Maybe others around you saw it at the time. But chances are, if they did, they also recognized it for what it was: simply a phase that most people go through, including themselves. Chances are, they dismissed it. And whether or not you had seen that episode, regardless you’ve obviously grown as a person.
I’ve found that just about anyone who really matters to me can see right through me – in my best moments, and my worst. Thus, the fact that they stick around says something. I’m sure that anyone who matters to you is way ahead of you, and you needn’t dwell on the past (though I certainly understand the compulsion).
Oh, and “rest of all y’all” is fine. So is “rest of y’all.” Only time I hear people slip an ‘s’ in there is when they’re harried and start off a sentence with “all.” Example: “Y’all need to come over here” becomes “All y’alls need to get over here, NOW!”
“Dear Mr. Moore,
PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE let me on your show!”
🙂
I kid. Although I think you’d make a good Cylon. We’ve seen 7 so far, only 5 more models to get through. I think there’s a real niche for a 30-something geek model.
Or is this post just a lead-up to your “I’m gonna be on BSG” April Fool’s post? 🙂
I know that as a child, you were a better and more aware actor than most. However, I realized during a school production of Our Town that in most child roles, the actor has no clue how powerful their performance really is.
I don’t remember that episode very well– it aired during my freshman year at college, and while gathering for TNG was a weekly event for about 100 of us, it was also a good excuse to make out with my boyfriend (we all phone something in).
It’s entirely possible that your reserve in that episode made it work more than you realize, or perhaps for a different audience. I don’t know– I should go watch it again just to see. But I do know that the Wes Crusher character was always reserved– I’m not sure it would have worked to see that character break down. That would have seemed forced, without a good lead up.
Hey 🙂
i can not imagine what it would be like to grow up in the public eye, to have moments of teenage arrogance captured on film for ever…i have not seen this particular episode that you are talking about, im sure its no where near as bad as you think, the way you view your own actions are always way worse than how others view them…however show me an 18 year old that isnt arrogant,spoilt or self centered (i sure as hell cant find one) neways you showed up to work and you got the job done, even if you didnt want to be there..HELL i know if i didnt want to do it i wouldnt (guess im an arrogant,spoilt, selfcentered 18 year old lol).. u learned from past mistakes just like everyone else in the world, u realised your faults and corrected them…i guess one day ill look back and think “DUDE i was such an ASS”…wait i already do :s..im gonna finish before i bore you to death with a long jibarish essay…you fucking rock dude.
Okay, now we know your feelings about it. We know you regret not being more vigilant to the craft and your responsibilities. I doubt this hindsight was even relevant to you 16 years ago.
I remember that episode. You were displaying a relative bad attitude through some of the episodes… But it worked in context, I thought, back then. I saw Wesley as a young man in the cusp of change, too young for his circumstances and too old for his age.
Family is one of the best episodes of TNG period. I tear up every time I see it, especially the part where Picard totally falls apart to his brother. I don’t think you sucked nearly as much as you think you did. You were 18, we were all assholes at 18, and you could have done it much, much worse. So kick yourself if you must, but not too hard, or with pointy toed shoes.
All the steps you have taken in the past have brought you to the person you are today. You would not be the person you are today unless you did what you did in the past.
Be Here Now
Ignatz
Hey Wil-man,
I’ve got something for you.
Aside from commenting on that last post and sending sympathy your way, I have this:
It takes some balls to publicly reflect on your failures in such a passionate and detailed manner.
In addition, for you to be able to refuse sympathy at the conclusion and embrace the failure as a positive in your life, it’s obvious that you grew some hairy ones since your 18th birthday.
Feel free to publicly and proudly scratch those balls, Wil. You’ve earned that right.
Past failures are often the pre-requisites for future accomplishments, (as long as you remember them).
Joe