Category: blog

I really like my dog.

I read this in the soapbox, and thought I’d post it here, because it put a huge smile on my face:
12 February 2002
Official! Wil Wheaton Now Coolest Person in the Cosmos
Yes, I realize that I’m a bit late to the party, seeing as how it’s a month out of date…but it made me giggle, regardless.
So how was your weekend?
Mine rocked. I spent the entire day on Saturday with my brother, at the race track.
Well, it was more like at the micro brew festival, which was in the infield at the race track, but the important thing is, we tied several onions to our belts, which was the style on Saturday, and we had a great time. Then I got to go out to dinner with my wife, and I made her watch “Go”, which I really enjoyed in the theatre. I described it at the time as “Pulp Fiction for 20 year-olds.”
Sunday was spent cleaning up the house, which is something that I always enjoy doing. I love getting rid of stuff, and taking control of the house back from the piles of laundry and dishes in my kitchen.
Yeah, Anne and I were working so much last week we didn’t have time to do laundry. The good part of this is that when I went to vaccuum my bedroom, there really wasn’t any dirt on the floor…thanks to the laundry covering it.
Har.
We had a HUGE storm last night, which absolutely covered the mountains behind my house with snow, and made it look like we’re having winter again. Which means that this weekend it’ll be right back into the 90s again. Weird.
Did anyone else see “The Simpsons” last night? I love it when they do parodies and “Simpson’s versions” of well-known stories, like The Odyssey, as they did last night. Something that’s always impressed me about the Simpsons is that their writers reward smart, well-read people, without alienating average folk who just want to watch funny pictures..like George W. Bush, for example. I bet FOX, with it’s current catering-to-the-lowest-common-denominator (Temptation Island, When [X] Attacks!, Celebrity Boxing) is the single more popular network in the white house.
Until Ashcroft comes over. Then it’s time for TBN!
Last night, on KLOS, they played the entire Midnight Oil album, Diesel and Dust. It’s one of my favorite albums of all time, and was my one of my earliest exposures to music as activism, outside of “Freedom Rock” (“Hey! Turn it up, man!”)
I bring this up because they’re playing concerts in LA this week: at House of Blues in Anaheim Tomorrow, and in Hollywood Thursday, and SoCal residents may want to go see them, and the tall bald man. 🙂
Our Thought For Today comes from Halle Selassie:

“Until the philosophy which holds one race superior, and another inferior, is finally, and permanently discredited and abandoned….until the color of a man’s skin is of no more significance than the color of his eyes…there will be war.”

Night before last, I got home very late from work.
When I checked my messages, there was one from Jonathan Frakes, who said that he was casting a show, and there was “a wonderful acting opportunity for Wil Wheaton in it.”
I can’t tell you how excited I was. To have one of my friends call me, at home, to tell me that they’re casting something, and they wanted to put me in it…well, it was awesome.
Now, I’m my excitement is tempered, because the last time I was promised a role in a movie I got a whole bunch of nothing, but there’s something about Jonathan. He wouldn’t call me if he didn’t really think I could handle this role.
So yesterday, at 12:30, I get a call while I’m at work that they want to see me at 2PM for Jonathan’s project: The Twilight Zone.
That’s right, they’re doing it again! I love the Twilight Zone, the most. When I was a kid it scared the shit out of me, but in a good way. The first thing I ever wrote was an adaptation of one of the scariest episodes, when I was like 11.
So I get the call at 12:30, the sides arrive via FAX at 12:45, and I have 30 minutes to prepare 16 pages.
Somehow, I manage to get a handle on this character, a task made much easier by the high quality of the writing. It’s specific and clear, so I get an understanding of what the character is immediately, and I’m able to add my own shading and color to him really quickly.
When you look at a script, it usually tells you what the writer wants; what he’s going for. All the actors coming in should know that, and should be able to meet the demands of the material. In my experience, sitting on both sides of the table during auditions, the thing that makes the difference amongst all the actors who come in to read is that shading and color; that little extra understanding, or that ability to recall something from your real life is what’s going to make a difference, and get you the role.
Of course, 30 minutes is not exactly the best amount of time to create this complex character, but what’s great for me about not having all the extra time is I am forced to trust my instincts (which are almost always right on, but usually end up getting over analyzed. I can be a little too smart for my own good).
So I am thinking of all this stuff, all the various colors I can add to this character, and the experiences I’ve had in my own life which I can draw upon, while I’m driving over to the audition, which is in the middle of downtown LA, at a place called “LA Center Studios.” I’ve never been there before, but the place is really cool and creepy at the same time. It feels like the set of a 70s post-apocalypse movie. The floors are all marble and linoleum, the walls are all wood, with these strange metal accents, and the whole place is only about 20% occupied, so it really feels like, well, The Twilight Zone.
Oh, get this: on my way there? Totally got passed by a high speed chase, going the other way on the freeway. I gave the news choppers the finger. I don’t think they noticed.
So I get there, park my car in the mostly abandoned garage, and try to find the office where I’m reading. That post-apocalypse feeling is reinforced when I walk up 3 flights of turned-off escalators, which are lit by flourescent lights and covered with dust. I mean, I really did expect to come around a corner and see Charlton Heston screaming, “Soylent Green is people! It’s people!”
I finally got to the room where I was supposed to do my reading, and I saw Jonathan, who gave me a huge smile and a warm bearhug, and told me how happy he was to see me. He always has this twinkle in his eye, you know? It says, “I can’t believe I’m doing this! I’m totally getting away with it! Woo! This is so much fun!”
The casting director tells me that they only want me to read the first and last scenes, which is great because I can spend my 15 minutes waiting just focusing on those scenes, while they set up the room for auditions.
Now, I view warming up for an audition like being a relief pitcher: you don’t want to over-work yourself, so you’re tired, but you also don’t want to be warming up when you’re on the mound, either, so you have to know exactly when to get up in the bullpen. It also helps to know that you’re going to just need your curve ball working, and maybe a slider, so you focus on those, and trust that the fast ball will come when you need it.
Did I just lose everyone? I sometimes do that with extended metaphor.
Anyway, I work on those two scenes, and go in. Jonathan thanks me for coming and introduces me to the other producers. He says, “Wil and I know each other, you know.”
“Yeah, I knew him back when he was cool,” I say.
“See? He tells the same story,” he says to one of the producers.
“Well, your story checks out,” the producer says to me.
“That’s a relief. I thought that the 5 year photographic record wouldn’t be enough,” I reply.
We all laugh, and he tells me to begin when I’m ready.
Now, here’s something that I love about being an actor: I was just joking around, and now I get to totally switch gears, and play a guy who starts out honest and earnest, yet becomes corrupted by power. The two scenes show the beginning and ending of that transformation. I love that I can go from joking around, to becoming this character in a matter of seconds.
I do the first scene, and I can see Jonathan out of the corner of my eye, and he I can tell that he’s really into what I’m doing. It fills me with confidence, and I totally relax into this character. He tells me that it was a great job, and asks me to read the second scene. He gives me some direction, and tells me a bit about this character; stuff I already have figured out, but it really makes me feel confident, knowing that what they want is what I’ve already prepared.
I read the scene, and he asks me if I wouldn’t mind doing a third scene. This is a good sign, because he wouldn’t ask for it if he wasn’t happy with what I’d already done.
But I’ve had all of 30 minutes with the material, and I really haven’t prepared this scene, at all…I mean, I read it once, looked at it again when I was waiting, but I am not nearly as confident with it as I am with the others…but I do it anyway, and it feels really good.
I have really good instincts, as an actor. I know when I totally suck, and I know when I’ve done a good job. Again, to use the baseball metaphor: I know when I’ve hit it out, when I bounce back to the mound, and when I go down swinging. With the first scene, I hit it deep to center. With the second scene, I hit it out. I really need to get a stand up double on this third scene, now. So I read it, and that’s exactly what I do. If I’d had some more time with it, I would have gotten a triple, for sure, but I’ll take the double.
I finish, and put down my sides, and Jonathan says to the producers, “He is such a great actor.”
He turns to me and says, “You are such a wonderful actor. You still have it, W.”
Of course, it would be great to get this job, because I’d like to work with him, and I think the marketing opportunity for the studio is huge: Launch the new Twilight Zone with two guys from Star Trek.
But even if I don’t book the job, I will have Jonathan’s kindness and warmth to hold on to. It will be good balance for all the times I read for people who treat me like shit, and, as longtime readers know, it’s all about The Balance.
Updated at 1:03 PM
Just found out that I didn’t get it. Is there an award for coming in second?

Seven things I am grateful for today:

1. Going to Fry’s with my brother, who I haven’t seen in over a month, and him helping me pick out a new computer.
2. My brother telling me, in his way, that he missed me, and would like to hear from me more often.
3. Ferris and Sketch (my cat) sleeping in identical positions on their backs in the middle of my living room.
4. The freedom to loudly criticize my government without fear of being “disappeared”. Yet.
5. A November day, around 1995, when I went with my friend Dave to the beach, and we stood on the end of the pier, watching the huge, storm-driven waves crash against the bottom of the pier, getting our feet wet, and not being afraid.
6. Nolan showing me a sign-up sheet for a summer science program that he wants to attend, proudly proclaiming, “I wasn’t into science last year, Wil, but this year I totally am!”
7. The fact that my wife notices that I curl the tip of my tongue when I laugh really hard. Something I was not even aware of myself.

Our Thought for Today is more of a meditation, than a thought, and it comes from the Tao Te Ching:

“Weapons are the tools of violence;
all decent men detest them.
Weapons are the tools of fear;
a decent man will avoid them
except in the direst necessity
and, if compelled, will use them
only with the utmost restraint.
Peace is his highest value.
If the peace has been shattered,
how can he be content?
His enemies are not demons,
but human beings like himself.
He doesn’t wish them personal harm.
Nor does he rejoice in victory.
How could he rejoice in victory
and delight in the slaughter of men?
He enters a battle gravely,
with sorrow and great compassion,
as if he were attending a funeral.”

As I write this, Anne is behind me, doing some workout video tape, and I can just hear the breathless voice of the girl who is leading the workout saying, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, doesn’t that feel good? Don’t stop, you’re almost there *pant* *pant*”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was watching “Debbie Does 7 Minute Abs” or something…but anyway…
A few weeks ago, I did an interview for the 4th season DVD release of Star Trek: TNG. While I was at Paramount doing my interview, a friend of mine who writes for Star Trek: The Magazine asked me if she could talk to me about a special issue they were doing, focusing on the second season. I told her that I’d be glad to do the interview, if they’d put me on a mailing list, and send me issues of the magazine.
Hey, daddy needs to get nice things, you know?
So she said that’d be no problem, and we did the interview. It was really cool, and I won’t spoil it for you by talking about it here. It should be on the stands in a month or so.
On Friday, my first issue of the magazine showed up, and the whole thing is devoted to the first season of TNG. It focuses mostly on the behind the scenes aspects, with all these cool production drawings, interviews with the producers (Bob Justman says that “Wil Wheaton was always going to be our Wesley”), and a brief history of that first season.
Reading it really made me feel nostalgic, and I was flooded with wonderful memories from those years.
As I read it, I got to thinking…I have some unfinished business here…so, today, my dear Sunday reader, I am proud to give to you:

SPONGEBOB VEGA$ PANTS: SCREAM SPONGEBOB, SCREAM!

When we last left our intrepid hero, he had finished performing the highly anticipated “Mind Meld presents: Assimilate This!”.
With minimal rehearsal, with less than ideal performing conditions, and needing to pee for the last 30 minutes of the show, we had managed to pull it off. The crowd loved us, and would have made me cry, if I was not, as I have pointed out many times before, such a complete badass.
So, to pick things up…
The house empties out, and I run at mach 4 to the bathroom. When I get back into the ballroom, I get the most important review, of all. My wife comes up to me, puts her arms around me, and says, “Honey, you were great. I’ve never laughed so hard in my whole life.”
We stand in the ballroom for a few minutes, and I feel the familiar rush of left over adrenaline that I get at the end of every show. Even though it’s been a hellishly long day, and I’ve performed twice (once on stage with the sketch group, and once during my talk) I’ve got this massive surge of energy, and I must use it.
So we pack up the show, say goodnight to my parents, and head out into Vega$ for some drinks, some slots, some craps, and some fun. We can’t decide where we are going to go, because it’s a weekend, and most of the casinos have insanely high table minimums, and somehow we all end up at The Rio. Now, I’m not too crazy about The Rio, since they kicked out De La Guarda, which is, I think, one of the coolest and most unique shows I’ve ever seen. But we ended up there, anyway.
Travis and I were really hungry, and just wanted to get something to eat, and the rest of the gang just wanted to get a few drinks in them and throw some money away — er, I mean, gamble. So Travis and I head off to some 24 hour restaurant in the hotel (walking, of course, through the casino, then through more of the casino, and, finally, past some slot machines). The rest of the crew heads up to some club at the top of the hotel, which they later tell us is filled with poseurs, and I try to act surprised.
Travis and I talk about the show, and how it went. It’s funny when you get two actor/writers together. We did a really good show, and we were, and are, very proud of it…but we can only talk about the things that we didn’t like. We talk about the fact that I should have picked up a mic at the end of the show to say my thank yous and introduce the group. I was unhappy that I flubbed some lines, and could have had a funnier ad-lib here or there…but that’s the nature of being a perfectionist, I guess. It’s also the reason most of my shows are so good. I won’t allow myself to do anything less than my absolute best, and I am always pushing myself to be better.
So Travis and I deconstruct the show, talk about the possibility of taking it on the road, talk about how much fun we had, complain about how horrible the farking food is, and we head back to meet the rest of the gang, in the casino.
So, by now, it’s got to be close to 2AM, and that adrenaline buzz is wearing off. Remember when you were a teenager, and you’d just started hanging out all night? That first or second time you stayed up all night with your friends, watching the sun rise, thinking to yourself how cool it was that you were awake this late, never wanting the night to end? That’s how we all felt…but we’re all exhausted, and some of us have to fly home early the next morning. So we gamble a bit, I collect on a bet from Tracy Burns (she had to buy me a scotch. I forget why, now), and we say a teary farewell.
We all go our Separate Ways, seeking out our own Frontiers, filled with Lights, knowing that we’ll never Stop Believin’.
What happened there? Sorry.
Anne and I return to our we-would-never-get-this-if-we-were-paying-for-it suite at Bellagio, and fall asleep before our heads even hit the pillows.
The next morning, we get up, eat breakfast, and pack our bags. We’re going to stay the rest of the weekend, so we can attend the party at The Star Trek Experience on Sunday night, but we’re not staying at Bellagio any more. We’re moving to Monte Carlo.
I’ve decided to spend the day sitting in the Autograph room at the convention, so people who missed me the first two days can get their picture or autograph, and so I can hawk my friend’s CD. (if any of you were RFB listeners, before it went off the air, you may have heard me play them from time to time)
The thing is, it kind of sucks. I realize that I’m spending the entire day there, really to sign what amounts to less than 10 pictures, and I only convince 3 people that Warp 11 is really funny. I also know that 2 of our friends (Stephanie, who introduced me to Anne, and BURNS! who is one of our best friends) are on their way to meet us, so I decide that I’m done. I pack up, and screw up the courage to introduce myself to Alan Ruck, who played Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and was in some Trek movie, I guess. He is really cool, and as excited to meet me as I am to meet him, which always surprises me and makes me feel good.
I meet Anne, Steph, and BURNS! at the Monte Carlo, where I am discover what will be the theme for the remainder of our trip. That theme is “Who can be the most rude to Wil and his friends?”
Now, here is the thing. I am an extremely patient, understanding, forgiving person, when I am in a restaurant, or at the front desk of a hotel, or dealing with any person who works in the “service industry.” I figure that most people treat them badly, talking down to them, and stuff, and I really go out of my way to be extra nice, and patient with them. I also know that they may appreciate this, and hook a brother up with a free desert or something, so it’s not completely altruistic. Hey, at least I’m honest about it, preachy.
When we’re checking in, the girl who is checking us in is really cool. She’s sweet, friendly, helpful, and all the things you’d hope for. She tells us that we’re in some sort of suite, and I tell her that we were just at the Bellagio, and while we were staying in that suite they gave us some sort of VIP pass, for some lounge or something, and a buffet line pass.
Tangent: let me tell you, when you’re in Vega$ during a busy weekend, having that buffet or cafe line pass is GOLD. The last two times I’ve been in Vega$, which I hate, by the way, the lines for restaurants have been insane, and I would have sold my soul for a line pass. (Don’t get too excited. My picture’s been taken so many times, I don’t have any soul left)
End of Tangent.
So the girl tells me that she isn’t sure, but I can go and ask Casino Services if the suites at Monte Carlo come with the same pass as the suites at Bellagio. I cross the large lobby, and enter through some french doors to the Casino Services area. It’s a small room, with a lovingly handcrafted particle board desk, and two armed chairs. A pinched woman is sitting behind the desk, and she makes no effort to mask her obvious contempt for me as I approach her.
“Can I help you?” she sneers.
“Yeah,” I tell her, and proceed to explain the situation at Bellagio, and I ask her if Monte Carlo has a similar policy.
Although I am taller than her, and she is sitting at a desk, she somehow manages to look down her nose at me. She tells me, with complete disdain, “No, sir. Our Casino Premiums [you can hear in her voice that she capitalizes those words in her mind] are reserved for a certain caliber of guest.”
A certain caliber of guest?! Did she just say that?!
I take a second to imagine how hollow her life must be when she’s not sitting behind that desk, and I thank her for her time. Remember, I’m patient, forgiving and understanding.
I cross back to the check-in desk, and the girl asks me if the woman was able to help me. I tell her that she was not able to help me, and, in fact, insulted me. I tell her that when that woman told me that they “are reserved for a certain caliber of guest”, what she clearly communicated to me was that I was not of a certain caliber, and therefore not worthy of her time.
I was upset. Not because I didn’t get that magic card, I mean, that’s their policy, so that’s fine with me. I don’t expect preferential treatment, ever (well, unless I’m at Jumbo’s Clown Room, but that’s more like frequent flier miles, if you get my drift). What upset me was the way she talked to me. The way she treated me as if I was beneath her from the moment I walked in.
A manager has heard me relaying my story to the check-in girl, and she has joined the conversation. She apologizes many times, and asks me to wait a minute. She crosses to the Casino Services room, and I see her have a heated exchange with the woman behind the desk of power. She then returns, and gives me, Anne, Steph and BURNS! these cool VIP passes, which are good for lines, shows, and get us into some sort of lounge on an upper floor of the hotel. She apologizes many times, and implores us to enjoy our stay. I am impressed with her kindness, and for a brief second I bask in the customer service.
We head up to our room, Steph and BURNS! head off to meet one of our other friends, Jen, and Anne and I unpack, and take a nap.
Isn’t the weird? We take lots of naps in Vega$. I think it’s because we really like to stay out all night, or as close to all night, as we can. I think that staying out all night is part of the mystique of Vega$.
I wanna digress for a minute, and talk about the mystique of Vega$. See, I think that we all want to buy into the “romance” of Vega$. That thing that the city has, as portrayed in “Viva Las Vegas!” and “Swingers” and anything concerning the Rat Pack. We want to believe that it is the land of all-you-can-eat $2.00 buffets, where we are always one pull of the slot machine away from the Rainman suite. But the truth is, Vega$ is a sad, hollow, tragic monument to greed and excess, where parents dump their kids at the edge of the casino with some fast food while they get drunk and gamble. It’s a place where you’ll find more unemployed locals than tourists at a five dollar buffet, and it’s more like “Taxicab Confessions” than anything else. I can only take it for 48 hours at a time…and this time, I was there for 5 freakin’ days. However, it does have Nomi Malone, and Nomi’s got heat, so it’s not all bad.
So we take our nap, and we get ready for our big night out. We’ve got reservations at this restaurant that is supposed to be really cool, and I’ve even put on a clean shirt to go out.
NEXT TIME:
Dinner at Chez Midlife Crisis!
The Roulette that ate my wallet!
And
The Star Trek Experience
When WWDN presents, Spongebob Vega$Pants: The Final Chapter!