Author: Wil

We did it!
Anne will have a full report just as soon as she has time to write it, but here are my results:
Out of 17420 entrants, I finished 15490. My chip time was 7:14:58. It would have been much faster, but we figure that we lost almost 25 minutes waiting for the port-a-potties in the first 12 miles. Next time, I’m just going behind a bush.
I don’t want to say too much more, and steal Anne’s thunder, so I’ll just say that something clicked in my brain this weekend, (it was probably listening to John Bingham) and I want to be A Runner. I’m trying to talk my dad into running the San Diego marathon with me next year.

I talk about this in more depth in Just A Geek, but for years I lived with a very profound sense of shame. The huge acting career that I’d hoped for when I left Star Trek never happened, and as I grew through my twenties, I realized just what an epic asshole I’d been throughout my teenage years. Regret was a constant companion, and it was very hard for me to face friends and family, because I felt like I’d let everyone down.
Of course, that wasn’t the case. I had most certainly let myself down, but to the people who loved me, how I was doing in my career was unimportant. It took me several years to get over myself, (to follow that process in every excruciating detail, just go back to the beginning of WWdN’s archives, and start reading) but once I finally did, I realized how many years I just . . . wasted.
So last week, I called my mom. I’ve talked with her before about my feelings of disappointment, shame and regret, and I recalled that conversation.
“So now that I’m over all of that, I feel good, and happy, and at peace with my life and career . . .”
“It’s good that I can separate my life and my career. There’s a lesson I wish I’d learned ten years ago.” I thought.
” . . . and I realize how much I miss seeing you and dad,” I said. “I’d like to make an effort to do more things together.”
“We’d like that,” she said.
“So could we plan on getting together at least twice a month for dinner, or something?”
“Sure! Just give us a call.”
“Okay, I will. I love you, mom.”
“I love you too, Willow.”
Tuesday night, Anne and I realized that we’d both be up near my parents’ house on Thursday, so I called my mom and asked her if we could bring the kids up for dinner.
“I’ll bring everything to make grilled teriyaki chicken sandwiches!” I said.
“That would be wonderful. I’ll make a salad, and I’ll even warm up the pool,” she said. Then, sotto voce: “Don’t tell your father.”
I giggled. “Okay. We’ll see you Thursday!”
So last night, Ryan and I were in my mom and dad’s kitchen, preparing dinner, when my sister came downstairs.
“Are you eating with us?” I said, as I pounded a chicken breast.
“Yeah,” she said.
“I didn’t realize you were going to be joining us,” I said, “so I only bought one package of sandwich buns.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, “I can’t eat chicken anyway.”
“I got her a steak,” my mom said, from the dining room.
“Would you like me to save you some teriyaki sauce and some pineapple, so you can have teriyaki steak?” I asked her.
“I don’t know if I want to make filet mignon into teriyaki steak,” my sister said.
“Filet mignon?!” Ryan said, and turned to me. “Wil, I don’t eat chicken either.”
We all laughed.
“Just kidding,” he said, ” . . . or am I?”
I turned to my mom. “I’m so glad we came up tonight.”
“Me too,” she said.

Dude! This is too cool!
Tomorrow, I have an audition to do voicework for Twisted Metal: World Tour!
I’ve played so much Twisted Metal over the years that if I hear Rob Zombie in the car, I have to change the station, or I may get a little . . . aggressive.
This would be like a Trekkie getting to work on TNG, or me getting to work on Family Guy or Futurama.

There’s currently a copy of Dancing Barefoot, that I autographed, on eBay. It’s a charity auction, and 100% of the money raised goes to the St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital.
So if you’re looking for an autographed Barefoot, and you woke up today thinking, “Man, I really need to support St. Jude’s . . . ” you need to look no further than this auction.

The second part of the interview I did with Sequential Tart is up, as well as the very first official review of Just A Geek.
I read the entire interview (including part one) yesterday, and observed that Trisha and I talked just like we were a couple of friends, having a beer and playing darts. Everyone isn’t going to be as cool as she was, and I have to be careful in future interviews . . . if Trisha were a jerk (she’s not) she could really have taken advantage of my trust and the easy rapport we developed right around “hello.” If I’d stopped to think, “Dude, you’re doing an interview. Watch what you say, and be succinct,” it wouldn’t be nearly as rambling and “conversational” as it is . . . but it would also be pretty middle of the road, and not true to who I am. So here’s a public thank you to Trisha for not being a jerk, and burning me the way Entertainment We(a)kly did so many years ago.
Warning: I talk about politics in the second part, and it prompted the first ever disclaimer (“. . . the political opinions of Wil Wheaton do not reflect the opinions of the staff of Sequential Tart or its writers”) that’s ever accompanied any of my comments. So if you’re part of the “You’re with us or against us” crowd, I’ll just spare us both the headache, and urge you to go read the latest Strongbad e-mail instead.