All posts by Wil

Author, actor, producer. On a good day, I am charming as fuck.

I’m on a boat: In which I’m a proud father

I’m on JoCoCruiseCrazy 2, and I’m taking an Internet vacation until I get home. So every day while I’m gone, something from my archives will post here automatically, for your entertainment. I had a lot of fun picking these different things out, and I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

In Which I Am A Proud Father

Originally published January 2011.

"I have to tell you," Jonathan Coulton's wife said to me on the last night of the cruise, "how wonderful your boys are."

"I have two daughters," Peter Sagal's wife told Anne, "and I hope this isn't weird or creepy, but I really hope they meet guys like your sons."

"Dude, you know you raised your kids right when they are awesome and not lame even when you're not around," my friend Kathleen said.

In each of these instances, I was as proud as I was relieved. When they were growing up, it was important to me that I protected Ryan and Nolan's privacy, and I kept them out of the public eye (visually, I mean) as much as I could. I knew that #JoCoCruiseCrazy would be the first time a lot of people would actually see them. I knew that most of those people would have cameras, and I knew that it was unrealistic and unreasonable to expect those cameras wouldn't ever be turned on my kids. Before we left, I had long talks with both of them about all of this, and I urged them to comport themselves in a way that would make them and us proud. They assured me that they understood in their own way: Ryan told me, "Yeah, I get it. Don't worry." Nolan rolled his eyes at me and said I was being "lame."

Ah, youth.

Anyway, I had a great time on the JoCo Cruise, but before I actually recall it in my own way, I needed to get this out of the way.

I've waited almost ten years to do this. Internet, please meet my family:

We are Wheatons

That's Anne, me, Ryan, and Nolan.

This is probably my favorite picture that's ever been taken of me and Ryan:

Wil and Ryan have moustaches

Please enjoy the bonus Kevin Murphy photobomb.

So with this important formality out of the way, I can now get down to the very important business of recounting some of the things I loved about the cruise. Until I get the thoughts out of my head and into words, though, I highly recommend reading Stepto's and Molly's blogs, as well as JoCo's Open Letter to the Seamonkeys.

 

in which a suitcase is packed

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to get into a giant aluminium tube and fly across the continent to America's Wang. Then, on Sunday, I'll get on a boat and spend a week doing nerdy stuff with nerds in the middle of the ocean. It should be pretty awesome.

Earlier today, I folded my laundry, and put it on the bed. I laid out the various items of clothing I need to take with me on the cruise next week, carefully considering what nerd T-shirts would make the cut, and which ones would have to stay home.

I took my suit, and a clean white dress shirt out of the closet. I walked around the room, trying to find a place to hang them up. When I realized there wasn't a place to hang them up, I carefully laid them on the bed.

"The cats aren't in the house, so this will be fine here for a few minutes," I thought to myself.

I went into my office, and prepared my backpack: I took out some things I didn't need, including an old call sheet, and realized that the last time I took this backpack anywhere, I was working on Eureka. I had a little bit of a sad. I put some books in a pocket next to my Kindle. I put my bag of dice inside, and grabbed a couple of small, social games: Werewolf, Resistance, Fluxx, and a couple of Button Men, just in case. I printed out my performance setlist and put it into the pocket where I'd usually put my laptop. (My laptop is staying home, because the Internet on the ship costs eleventy billion dollars a second, and I'd rather read books, play games, and relax in the sun with my friends and family than hang out online, where I spend pretty much all of my free time when we're home.

I made sure my various chargers, extra batteries, headphones, and other nerd essentials were in their proper place. Then, having confirmed that I had everything I would need to entertain myself and survive a zombie apocalypse, I headed back into my bedroom to load up my suitcase.

My black cat was sleeping in the middle of my white dress shirt. My black and white cat was sleeping on my black kilt.

"Are you fucking serious, you guys?" I said. 

The cats did not reply. One of them rolled over and purred enthusiastically, while the other put her ears back and flicked her tail.

I sighed. "Okay, get up," I said. "These are going back into the closet until I pack them."

The cats let me know that they were very displeased with me, in the usual manner. I let them know that I would get over it, in the usual manner.

I hung up my fancy clothes, and put my normal clothes into my suitcase. The cats glared at me from the floor.

"You'll get over it," I said.

That's when I realized that I was alone in the house, and talking to my cats.

…turns out that this is the perfect time to take a working vacation.

in which my wife is nerd-adjacent and comedy ensues

I came across a bunch of posts that I'd marked as drafts, but never published. Most of them are ideas that never turned into actual posts, or things I wrote and decided not to post for some reason I've since forgotten.

This one was originally written in November of 2009. I'm not sure why I left it unpublished for over two years.

"Hey," I said to Anne while we stood in the kitchen last night, "remember that song from Avenue Q, 'The Internet is for Porn'?"

She made a gruff Muppet voice and sang, "The Internet is for porn, the Internet is for porn … porn, porn, porn." She stirred whatever was on the stove and said, "that song?"

"Yeah. That song."

I put my hands in my pockets, and leaned back on my heels, striking my famous I'm-so-proud-of-what-I'm-about-to-tell-you posture.

"I ordered a T-shirt last week, and it says 'The Holodeck is for porn' on it!" I smiled and waited for her to join me in laughter.

At first, all she did was blink. Then, she frowned, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Finally, she just cocked her head to one side and looked at me like I had spoken in some foreign language, which I guess I had.

"You, um . . . you don't know what the holodeck is, do you?"

"I know that it's from Star Trek," she offered, helpfully.

I told her what the holodeck does, and how it works, doing my best not to speak in geek, which as it turns out is very difficult to do when you are describing the primary functions and inner workings of the freakin' holodeck.

"So, you see," I concluded, "if the holodeck was real, everyone would use it for porn, and that's why that T-shirt is so funny."

"…okay…"

We looked at each other for a few seconds.

I said, "I can't believe you've been married to me for ten years, and this is the first time we've ever talked about the holodeck."

"Yeah, I don't know how we managed that."

—

Sometime during the two years since we had this conversation, something changed for Anne. I honestly think it was when she got an iPhone, and was able to have quick and instant access to the sort of technology I've embraced since before we met. She's made friends who are into the same sort of sci-fi and fantasy that I'm into, and I guess she's just absorbed the things we love by being geek-adjacent all the time.

I don't think I'll be able to convince her to watch Game of Thrones or Doctor Who with me, and it's unlikely she'll want to read a stack of comic books every Wednesday like I do… but she knows what the holodeck is, and she agrees with me that it's for porn.

So… baby steps. Baby steps.

this is clever, cute, entertaining, and has the potential to be awesome

About a year ago, I saw this commercial:

I’m not going to lie to you, Marge: I thought it was pretty awesome. It’s beautifully shot, it’s clever, and it doesn’t beat me over the head with some sort of BUY THIS THING message; it entertains me, which is what good advertising should do.

About a month ago, my agent sent me an intriguing offer: the people who did that commercial (it’s called The Date) were doing something new, set in the same universe, using the same band, and they were interested in having me participate. It was clever, it was cute, it was entertaining, and it had the potential to be awesome.

I told them that I’d love to be part of this thing in exchange for some shiny gold rocks, and after agreeing upon the number of rocks and how shiny they would be, Business Happened. I’ve been pretty excited to talk about this since we closed the deal, and today I finally can.

The agency that made The Date created this Facebook app called Heineken Serenade, that lets you build a song to ask someone out on a date. You answer some questions, like who you want to ask out, why you want to go out with them, what you want to do on your date, and why they should say yes. The app uses your answers to build a song* for you that goes on their Facebook wall. They send you an answer that goes back on your wall, and everyone wins. I think it’s really cute and clever, and some of you may know that clever is my Kryptonite. 

I made one for Anne, that looks almost exactly like this.

If you’re interested in making your own, you can do it here. If you do, and end up going on a date as a result, leave a comment and let me know, okay? I know at least one marriage has happened between people who met via my website (back when we had the Soapbox message board) and I think it would be pretty awesome if I helped nudge more people towards making a love connection.

*640 different combinations in 24 different languages, performed by Paul “Kiss” Kissaun, who did the song in The Date, which is cool.

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