Thirty-three years of TNG

A couple of days ago, in 1987, Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered.

I am one year older today than Patrick Stewart was when we filmed Encounter At Farpoint. I literally grew up on the Enterprise.

It’s been a long and complicated journey to get from 14 to 48. It’s been joyful and painful, and all of it has happened on the shoulders (and occasionally in the shadow) of this television show that is so much more than a television show.

I am so proud and so grateful to be part of Star Trek. I love my Star Trek family so much; they are the closest thing to parents I have in my life, and I am so grateful for them.

I am so lucky to be part of something that will likely endure for generations, inspiring kids whose parents haven’t even met, yet, to do great things with their lives.

I wish I’d been able to fully appreciate it when I was there, but I just couldn’t. I was young, immature, and in so much emotional pain, all the time, it kind of overwhelmed everything else in my life. Luckily, I was able to appreciate it from time to time, and because of that, I have some of my most joyful memories as a kid, and as an actor.

I met Anne because of Star Trek. I was on a Trek cruise when I was 18, and met my friend Stephanie, who was also on the ship, but not part of the Star Trek group. We became friends (still are, she was in our wedding), and years later, she introduced me to her friend from work.
I owe every bit of happiness I have in my life to Star Trek, and when I think about that, it kind of blows my mind.

Happy birthday, Next Generation. Happy birthday, to my space family. I love you.

Exciting and New

When I was … 22 or so, I bought my first house (very young, too young, to be a homeowner, but that’s a whole other story for another time).

It was a small house, built in the 30s. I bought it from the man who built it, which was really cool.

I didn’t know how to decorate my house, because I shouldn’t have even owned a house. I should have been in an apartment somewhere. Again, another story for another time. I decorated it the way a child decorates his dorm room, because that’s about how mature I was.

Anyway, I was at Hollywood Book and Poster or some shop like that, and they were selling cast photos from pretty much every television show that had existed to that point, so I bought a bunch of pictures of the cast from The Love Boat, and I put them in frames all over my house, like they were my family.

Not a lot of people noticed, or got the joke, but this girl I was dating at the time got the joke, appreciated the joke, and has been married to me for twenty years.

Throwback Thursday

Gamers vs. COVID-19

My upcoming eSports competition show, Gamemaster, has been delayed like everything else, but the people involved wanted to use the resources they had already mustered for production to do some good at a moment in time when it’s so desperately needed.

So we’re organizing to 3D print what we can for our frontline healthcare workers!

“As the spread of COVID-19 continues to impact us all, GAMEMASTER takes solace in friends, family and the indomitable spirit of our players, cast, crew and brand partners. When Reagan Stewart, web developer and an overall tech guru for GAMEMASTER, brought the idea of our team helping to make, distribute and organize PPE for medical professionals as they experience shortages, we immediately saw a way that we could help. Thanks to our amazing and generous brand partners, we have not only been able to set up a 3D print operation in Atlanta, but, we have also developed a network for healthcare providers and first responders across the country to connect with makers in their community to get the specific PPE that they need, quickly and without cost. Thank you all!:”

I’m so proud, and so honored, to be part of this show. I’m so excited to share our first effort to join the fight against COVID-19. If you’d like to get into the fight with us, and add your resources to ours, we have a sign-up page, here.

Maroon, yellow, blue, gold and gray

Everyone who lives with mental illness experiences it in our own way. For me, my Depression and Anxiety sort of hang out just beyond the scope of my peripheral vision, occasionally telling me they are there by casting a shadow over my life. Most of the time, it’s just that shadow, but other times, they team up and they just totally block out the Sun, and all the light in my life.

That’s how the last week or ten days have been, triggered by this complex PTSD episode that knocked me down really hard, and then stood on my chest wearing golf spikes. It was not awesome.

This thing that happened to me was brand new. As an adult, I hadn’t really, truly, fully experienced the totality of the pain, fear, sadness, and helplessness I felt as a child. I’d sort of pushed all that to the side, in the name of empowerment, and charged ahead with my life, to the best of my ability. What I didn’t know until this last week is that the stuff I pushed to the side was just sort of waiting for me to be ready to confront and deal with it, when it blocked out the Sun and scorched the Earth around me.

But I did the work that I know how to do. I allowed myself to feel all the things I needed to feel. I had long conversations with my sister, who has been so supportive and understanding through all of this. I had long conversations with myself, and I talked to the little boy I was. It felt kind of silly and a little “woo woo” to do that, but he needed to know that I love him, I see him, I can’t protect him from these terrible people, but I’m going to do the best I can to hold his hand and help him through everything, even if it’s just in my memories. He is not alone now, even though he felt so very alone, then.

And it really helped. It really helped to acknowledge my pain and my recovery. It helped to remind myself that healing is a journey, and some parts of the path are more difficult than others.

My sister gave me some really good advice, my Godmother and my cousin reminded me that I am and always have been loved by them, even when I wasn’t feeling unconditional love and approval from my parents. My wife held me while I cried, then she held me while I ugly cried, then she held me while I sobbed uncontrollably.

My pain and my trauma is real, and it is lasting, but I know that I’m going to heal it all, eventually, because I am surrounded by love and support.

Some housekeeping, after the jump:

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