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
“I 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.”-Henry Rollins, The Portable Henry Rollins
You went into full Fangirl mode.
Yes. Never go Full Fangirl.
Great story, Wil. I’ve met more than a few important (to me) people in my time, and I get it.
I extend the same to you, good sir; I appreciate the work you do.
This is about as awesome as it comes.
Epic.
Tee Hee, did something similar when I met Pat Rothfuss at Pax this year. Was able to control it when i met you at Comic Con in Portland though and actually managed to say something coherent to you.
I love this so much
<3
I cracked just like that last year when I met Joss Whedon. “Just be cool, man. Just be cool.” “HI JOSS OH NO YOU DON’T KNOW ME I JUST WANT TO SAY THANK YOU FOR MAKING THINGS I LOVE.” (exit to the dance floor where someone we know had just bailed on me to jump on Nathan Fillion.
I would have done the exact same thing! He’s like a God.
Meeting heroes IS SO SCARY! If it makes you feel better, at least you remembered your name so you did better than I did when I met one of mine 🙂
Dude! Henry is the man! I’ve seen him speak a few times! The dude is an animal! Three hours of non stop speaking, yelling obscenities, and all around jumping about like a man a quarter of his age. All of this mind you with out a single drink of water. The dude still answers ALL his fan mail. The dude is a stand up guy! I don’t know how I could of made through my teens without the guys writings and songs
I once turned around at a knitting convention and came face to face with Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, AKA the Yarn Harlot. I basically burst into tears (age well past 40 and with my 60-something year old mother standing next to me, bemused). Possibly the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.
You would see me react that way if I bumped into you!! It is odd having the shoe on the other foot, isn’t it?
The only well known person/favourite author of mine I have been reasonably coherent when meeting them was Neil Gaiman because I knew beforehand that he is very kind and understanding with his fans. With everybody else, I’ve been a babbling idiot. I’m a huge fan of Henry Rollins, especially his spoken word work, and he would scare the shit out of me if I actually had the chance to speak to him.
I sort of did that when I met Jenny Lawson. And it was at a book signing, where I knew I was going to meet her. I was a babbling mess and she was very kind.
Oh man! It’s hard enough to meet an idol when you know it’s going to happen and have time to prepare, but to have it sprung on you when you’re not ready — I can only imagine.
If I ever happen to run into you and my brain shuts down on me, I apologize in advance. 🙂
I think that I vapor-locked in nearly exactly the same way when I met you at Gencon a few years ago (and was deeply, deeply embarrassed about it later). It’s good to know that I’m not the only one who does that sort of thing 🙂 And oh, yeah — Henry Rollins is a truly awesome guy, isn’t he?
We’d all like to think we’ll be cool and natural when something like this happens but….most of the time we do exactly what you did. This is so beautifully, idiotically charming. I loved it.
I had that same reaction when I met Alton Brown last week. I have no real recollection of what I said to him. I only know that he seemed super nice. I just hope I didn’t come across as a total freak.
I’m surprised you didn’t meet back in the “Teen Titans” days. Surprise, surprise.
Of course, I basically had the same reaction when I met you.
At the 2012 Calgary Entertainment Expo, I got the dream opportunity to briefly be in the same room as the entire cast of ST:TNG, which easily competes for my favourite show of all time. I stood in all the lines for all the time to meet and get autographs from who I could, but it was you, Wil, who I managed to try to strike up a conversation with. Then, trying to be cool, I said “Hey Wil, why aren’t you in this picture?”, commenting on the ST:TNG cast group photo that you were all signing for me. You replied simply “Because I wasn’t there that day.”
It is my utter Canadian-ness that has led to that moment sticking with me to this day and me feeling bad about making a dumb comment that probably came off as fan-demanding and rude to you, rather than the suave-hip-funny that I was trying to be. I’ve thought about trying to reach out to you previously about this, but always thought it would get lost in the noise. As a comment on this article, I think it’s finally appropriate, and even if you never see it, it’s at least out there to be seen.
I don’t know if you allow links or imgur, but this picture hangs on my wall to this day and your autograph is the most prized on it, next to Sir Patrick Stewart’s, and you’re not even in the picture. http://imgur.com/hGtSf3z
Everyone’s got something they’ll fanboy/girl too hard over…
That reminds me of the first time I met you and I gave you the very first coffee portrait I ever painted and you said something like, “You painted this with coffee, that’s amazing!” To which I replied, “Oh my god, my brain is melting.”
I like reading that you are as human as the rest of us and have also freaked upon meeting someone you admire. It reminds me that you’re just this guy, and that makes you awesome.
I met Henry Rollins at 91X Fest in San Diego in 1994. I was walking down the stairs to my seat at the SDSU Open Air Theater and turned to my left and Henry Rollins was standing a few feet away, holding a gym bag and just checking out the scene. Rollins Band was performing that night; “Liar” was really popular and all over MTV then. Green Day and Violent Femmes were performing too.
Anyway, after I exclaimed to Henry Rollins that “Oh My God You Are Henry Rollins!,” I asked him to sign my ticket to give as a gift to my sister, because she was a huge fan. He flared his nostrils and glared at me and I started to think “Uh oh” – but then his eyes lit up and he perked up (almost comically) and said “Sure!” and signed it quickly and bailed.
Funny, I had forgotten about that. Has it really been 20 years?
I liked reading this; made me feel a little better about some of the silly things I’ve been known to do. I think it leaves me feeling a little disconcerted myself, probably wondering to myself “what now?” I’m always a little awkward though, at least I am to myself. Thank you for sharing this with us….
Snork. Thank you Wil, that’s great. Babbling. Just babbling. Makes me feel better. I have a list of people I hope to meet and thank some day. I rehearse what I’ll say. Huh. I will babble.
You’re ok Wil!
Well, you could have just stood there with all of your muscles quivering, your eyes welling for no conscious reason, and your ability to speak flown out the window.
And if perchance an audible did make it past your lips, you would have streamed water down your cheeks, because one begets the other.
Or so I’ve been told.
ahem
For anyone who calls this a “fangirl” moment, I really hope they don’t mean it in the sadly derogatory way it gets tossed around.
If they mean it in the “I just met someone who profoundly had an effect on me and wasn’t sure how to convey that” sense, well, carry on.
I had a similar moment when I met you two years ago at MegaCon. You were, thankfully, gracious, and didn’t make me feel like a babbling idiot at all. Which is great, because I’m usually pretty together, around famous people or otherwise. But some of the things you’ve related on this blog have resonated with me (more than that, really) so part of me suddenly was all, “EXPRESS ALL THE THINGS” when I met you.
And it’s a hard thing to do when you want to respect the person you are talking to, and sound semi-coherent.
Anyhow, you continue to write things that will probably continue to turn me into you talking to Henry Rollins.
That’s not a bad thing.
(Also – DUDE, YOU MET HENRY ROLLINS?!?!)
Yeah I pretty much did that exact same thing to Paul and Storm at PAX Aus a few weeks back. I even said “I’m going to run away now”. /embarrassment
Did that give you even more appreciation for the goofballs who totally blow it when they meet you?
Ex. Me, at GenCon last year, when I blathered about being up in the same Ennies category as your show. And shook your hand. (which I know you’re not a fan of at cons). All when it was obvious you were just wanting to be a fan yourself.
At least you didn’t ask him to sign to sign a bunch of stupid things.
I met him after a spoken word show he did in Milwaukee. It was my first time seeing him so I was pretty excited. It was also kind of serendipitous as a friend of mine enlisted me to write a movie for his film school final project and I fleshed out something based on ‘Larry Uber Alles’ (think ‘Fight Club’ meets ‘Donny Darko’… or something). I emailed him to ask if we could use the story but I got a reply saying something like, “Mr. Rollins does not license or bla bla bla” saying we couldn’t do it. So, being the 20 year old bastards we were, we changed the name, added a bunch of stuff, and made it. We were in the middle of filming it when he was in town.
What I had planned on saying was something nice, formal, and polite along the lines of, “hello, Mr. Rollins. My friends and I are making a small, student film based off your short story, ‘Larry Uber Alles’. We would like it if we could get your blessing on the project.” What I said was, “Duuhh… uhh… hello. Yer my hero. Could you sign this?” and proceeded to empty my pockets of things for him to sign; my ticket stub, a random piece of paper.
A dollar.
…
My forearm.
He signed my forearm with a pretty understandably disgusted look on his face. He quickly turned to the person behind him, slyly indicating our time was over, but, being the fanboy I was, I fished out the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t have him sign; a little red rubber duck with devil horns.
I have no idea how it got into or why it was in my pocket but I had a little red devil duck.
I excitedly spat out ‘sign this!!’ and presented the duck. He reached without looking and once he got a hold of it, he noticed there was something a little odd about the object.
He turned a bit to inspect what this oaf had just given him,
realized it was a rubber duck,
and with no small amount of contempt, asked, ‘a duck?’
To which my only reply was, ‘yeah… it’s my… little… red… devil duck.’
He quickly put his initials on it and all but threw it back to me, quickly turning his back again. Ever since then, I’ve always wanted to apologize and explain but every time I go to see him in Milwaukee, all I can manage to get out is, ‘Thank you. That was a great show. Could you please sign this? How about a picture?’
SO AWESOME! I am glad you got to meet him, and also glad you got to feel that dumb awed blankness that happens to the rest of us when we meet our heroes.
I felt exactly the same way meeting Chris Perkins a few weeks ago (I played D&D throughout the 80s, life sent me in other directions, but Acq Inc brought me back to it and it’s crazy how much I missed it). It’s cool that, no matter who we are or how old we look, we can still channel that excited inner child (even if we don’t mean to). Glad you got to meet one of your heroes!
If someone makes a Meet Your Favorite Celebrity game for Oculus Rift, I won’t be interested until they release the Get Kicked in the Nuts by Sid Vicious DLC.
I’d also like to roller skate with ODB.
This story.. as well as countless others, is yet another reason we love you Wil.. it reinforces the fact that you’re just like us. You are us, in most respects.. Although WE didn’t get to fly a starship, so, there’s that.
Sadly all of my truest “idols” are given back to the earth. I did have a great moment though as a freshman theatre major when Ken Howard, who was getting a professional masters at the time and a friend to my mentor at school, was introduced to me after a show. While not necessarily an idol he was certainly an amazing performer I did deeply respect and admire for his career. He came up to me, a towering giant of a man and I’m 6-2, and shook my hand. I didn’t know what to say without sounding like an ignorant child. I’m not even sure what I did say to this day being 16 years ago. All I remember was his thunderous bass voice asking me, “Young man, the thing I want to know is where I may find some really good beer.” I told him about a restaurant the older students would take me when they wanted to drink. He thanked me and wished me luck in my career.
While I am quite sure I am capable of making an ass of myself had I been blessed with the opportunity to meet Robin Williams or Danny Kaye. Maybe I would find myself mentally bereft of reason were I to meet Stephen King. I did learn that while people such as these and even yourself are men and women of influence and greatness you are still men and women and should be treated as such, and perhaps bought a beer.
I had the same reaction meeting you at Planet Comicon this year. I had brought a copy of a poem I wrote based on your blog post “starry starry night,” that I wanted to give you. Reading that post inspired me to write something after a long self-doubt fueled dry spell, and I wanted to thank you for that.
Low-self-esteem me kept popping up thoughts like “You’ll creep him out. It’s not that good. What are you thinking?” Socially-awkward me chipped in with “You’re going to babble. You’re going to embarass yourself. You should bail.”
Luckily, overthink-everything me kept going over what I was going to say as I waited in line until I had something short, non-embarassing (I hope) and succinct to say.
Had I not had a long line to give me time to beat my self-doubt and fanboying into submission, I would have failed my mental Dexterity check and been caught flat-footed.
You did fairly well. You made the Dex check, didn’t flub your Diplomacy skill check. Not your fault you got natural 1 on your Use Device roll.
Oh wow it is so nice to hear of other people (of the sane variety) that freak out on that level! I met Ben Burtt (legendary sound designer of awesome) back when I was an aspiring sound editor (now I get to drop the “aspiring” from the title!), and I became a gushing babbling crazy person with a sudden and mortifying stammer. And of course my siblings were there with me and have never let me live it down! Thankfully Mr. Burtt was extremely patient and kind.
I totally did the same talking to you at DragonCon some years ago.
And as I flubbed and floundered and finally interrupted myself to say “I’m sorry, I just geeked out.” you were uncomfortable, but tried to be reassuring.
It happens. Sorry, and thanks.
I would have done the same thing. He is awesome. But you sir, are also awesome.
Tom Baker, for me. Turned into a babbling idiot.
When I met Michael Biehn I turned into a babbling four year old girl w/ a new My Little Pony toy. Something tells me he didn’t appreciate being looked at like a My Little Pony, but the man was super amazing about the whole thing all the same.
You did swimmingly man. Your reaction proves you’re not a pretentious a-hole, that’s a win 🙂
Dude. Such a shame Rollins isn’t easily found on Twitter. From way down here in munchkinland, however, your name and Rollins’ name appeared on my plate in the same period of my life, so you’re equivalently famous. But as much as I enjoy your work, and appreciate it (especially the audiobook you did for Cory Doctorow recently), I have to tip my hat to you today for having the courage to totally embarrass yourself meeting someone who is, to you, an icon. Not a lot of shmos would.
Didn’t you do the same thing when you met Cory Doctorow?
Ya know, he was DJing at an LA Weekly thing a few years back, where you were signing books (you signed my copy of Dancing Barefoot, thanks soooo much!), and I totally thought you’d met there, or before. When you realize you’re talking to such an awesome person and you’re totally hoping not to say something stupid; I know that feel. 🙂
Note to self….Don’t spaz out if I ever meet Wil Wheaton….
I just heard Sun Ra speak. 1968 was pulled to the surface, here in 2014, by means of audio recording technology. He said <>. Pacifica Radio Archives.
I sympathize. I fangirled on Ambassador Joe Wilson once. I still cringe, thinking about it. I’d just bought his book, and the bookseller said, “Would you like that signed? He’s right there.” And he was. Aiiiiieeee.
I think the surprise element really kicks up the pressure. If you’re expecting to meet someone, you at least have time to try to get your brain into gear.
This is precisely how i felt when I met you the first time when you were filming the Santa episode of Leverage in Portland, OR. I think we talked about writing: Neil Gaiman and Philip Pullman and I know i must have asked for a picture with you because I have one, but other than that I spent the whole time screaming and turning cartwheels in my head.
Even after going to The Wil Wheaton Project tapings so often, I still felt a kick in the heart to see someone who was such an integral part of who I was a child that influenced who I am as an adult (my username on everything is trekkiepirate, after all). The words you said to Henry Rollins (and HOLY FUCK DUDE you met HENRY ROLLINS) are the same things I could have said to you if my brain and mouth had ever worked that well together in your presence. Your work changed me, for the better I think and hope. When I was a teen and discovered your blog, I felt a seismic shift in how I write blog posts: knowing that opening yourself and showing your inner thoughts is scarier but better than trying to project an image of ‘cool’ (which I’ve never been anyway). I read Just a Geek and accepted the title Geek as a badge of honor, taking back from the people who used it to mock me when I was younger. You made such an impact on my life through acting and writing and you still do; the fact that I’ve met you and you’re a nice, genuine guy who always remembered to ask me if they spelled my name right (which they rarely did) was just an awesome bonus.
I did even worse. I was at the Los Angeles Times Book Fair a few years back and saw Leonard Nimoy less than ten yards away. All the circuits in my brain blew at once, like control panels in a starship that’s been hit by phaser fire. I was face to face with COMMANDER FUCKING SPOCK, and I was literally paralyzed. I couldn’t even go “buh, buh, buh, buh.” My wife went right over to Him and John Delancy and just chattered up a storm, not fangirling at all. I had to be led away by the hand and fanned with a newly purchased David Brin book before I could so much as blink.
You didn’t do so badly. You could still talk. Just be glad you could still talk!
For me it goes like this: I was much too young to sort out fantasy from reality when I first watched Star Trek. I knew I was watching something really, important and amazingly significant, but didn’t fully understand that it was fiction… I’ve dreamed for decades of being on the original Enterprise, (real sleeping dreams, not daydreams) and when I saw Him… let’s just agree that it wasn’t my best moment and move along.
It’s just as well; I would have been one more drooling, flabby, middle aged fanboy babbling about How Much Your Show Meant To Me.
Let’s just hope I never meet Nichelle Nichols… I hate when my head explodes and it gets all over everything.
I recall your early works having an effect on me. You always seemed like a person that was real and relatable as if your character’s experiences were attainable to me. I promise I’ll try not to spaz out if I meet you. That being said…I likely will.