Category: WWdN in Exile

memphis to mars

Posted on By Wil

Anne and I are painting cabinets and working in the house today, so I only have time for three quick things while I eat:

  • This Savage Chickens comic made me giggle.
  • I read on Lifehacker yesterday that the final release of OpenOffice.org version 3.0 – which finally includes native Aqua support for OS X – is now available. I’ve used OpenOffice.org for all of my books, and I just love it. I haven’t had a chance to do more than start up 3.0 to make sure it compiled correctly, but it looks beautiful. Congratulations to everyone who worked on it.
  • Did anyone else see Bill Maher last night? This economist, Stephen Moore, was the real life version of the character Stephen Colbert plays on the Colbert Report. For the first ten minutes of the panel, I thought he was doing a bit, stealing from Colbert. When I realized that he wasn’t . . . wow.

It’s so beautifully autumn-like in my neighborhood today, I could just fall over with joy. It’s in the mid-60s, completely clear, and a little breezy. This is my favorite time of year.

ETA OMG: Congratulations to Sean and Tara!

in which wil has a weird (and awesome) day

Posted on By Wil

“wilw: I think I may die from too much fun today. I’m working on Naruto this morning, then Family Guy this afternoon.”

This morning, I finished my arc on Naruto. I can’t say anything specific (I actually shouldn’t have said I was working on it at all until it aired. Oops.) but my shows will start airing in about a month, and I can tell some behind the scenes stuff then.

After I finished recording, I had about 2 hours before I was scheduled to work on Family Guy, so on the way I stopped at this pizza place I’ve always wanted to eat at in Burbank called Dino’s. Oh my god. I had this pizza called the caponata: roasted eggplant, green olives, garlic, onions, tomatoes, capers and fresh basil. OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.

While I was there, I read an actual newspaper, which was a rather exciting and retro experience. I used to read the Los Angeles Times and the Daily News every day, and the New York Times on Sundays, and today was the first time I’ve held a newspaper in my hands that wasn’t The Onion in over a year.

After lunch, I drove down to Hollywood for Family Guy. On my way down Highland, I saw at least a dozen different street corner prophets, hollering at traffic about one thing or another. In the median at Highland and Melrose, I saw legendary Hollywood crazy person Melrose Larry Green. He had a political sign, but he was waving it around so much, I couldn’t read it. Dang.

I record Family Guy (and Cavalcade) in an office building down on Wilshire near LACMA. It’s a really cool place, where the Evil Monkey tells people to recycle, a Family Guy pinball machine is available on free play, and a ping pong table takes up much of the waiting area near the recording booths. There were two people playing when I got there, and after I read my sides (holy shit is it a funny scene) I looked up to see Seth Green playing.

I sort of knew Seth when we were much younger, because he was one of those guys I’d run into at auditions all the time. He was a little nerdy, and always really nice and unassuming, with a great sense of humor. I remember once, back in 1998 or 1999, I said to him, “You know, Seth, you’re a little nerdy, and you’re also nice and unassuming, with a great sense of humor. You should do a TV show where you satirize movies and popular culture with animated action figures.”*

I wasn’t sure if he’d remember me since it had been so long, but it turns out that he did, and after talking to him for a few minutes I was really happy to see that he’s the same exceedingly nice and easygoing guy I sort knew all those years ago. Before I left, we played some ping pong, and discussed the awesomeness of being on Team I Have An Awesome Beard. He recently moved to team I Don’t Have A Beard Because It Was Too Itchy, but the bond between bearded and formerly-bearded brothers was still strong. And awesome.**

When I recorded my lines, Seth MacFarlane directed me. My scene was with Peter Griffin, and I am as proud of myself as I’ve ever been that I didn’t lose my shit when Seth read me into my first line in Peter’s voice. I also told him that I’m still laughing about Surfin’ Bird, and nearly convinced him that members of The Trashmen were all deadbeat dads to the same former groupie, so the increased sales on iTunes was finally feeding her numerous bastard children. (This was way, way funnier than it seems now. Making outrageous shit up like that and committing to it completely is one of my favorite ways to amuse myself.)

On my way home, I hoped to complete my strange trip into Hollywood with an Angelyne sighting, but I got to see a hobo getting all Office Space on his shopping cart instead, while a bunch of other hoboes watched . . . and guarded theirs.

There was no traffic on the freeway, and I got home in 27 minutes.

I think it’s safe to say I had a very weird day.

*This never actually happened.

**Awesome.

Strewn with time’s dead flowers

Posted on By Wil

Remember how radical it was when you got your first dirt bike in the 80s? Mine had a red frame, hand brakes, and yellow pads that told the world it was a Red Line BMX. I wish I could say that I was sad to retire the banana seat bike I’d loved since Christmas in 1978, but I was 9, and felt like I’d outgrown it and its various . . . accoutrements.

I don’t know if dirt bikes were as common in the 70s and 80s as they were when Ryan and Nolan were kids, but I was really excited when I finally got mine. I washed it, kept it in the garage, and left the kick stand on it, even though the big kids in my neighborhood had all taken their kick stands off, in order to reduce the weight and make them more suitable for racing. Of course, none of us was strong or powerful enough to know that the elimination of a few ounces of kickstand wouldn’t make any appreciable difference, but these decisions were made at an age where we were certain that new shoes made us run faster.

I rode that bike everywhere, and I feel a little sad right now because I can’t remember what happened to it.

When Nolan was 6, we got him a bike for his birthday. I think we picked it up at Toys R Us or Target, where it was one of many little kid-sized dirt bikes on display. I don’t recall seeing any banana seat numbers with streamers coming off the handlebars or giant flags reaching up to the sky from the back of the seat, but it stood out from the pack, stylishly-adorned with cool blue pads on its “chromette” frame, emblazoned with the word “Chaos,” surrounded by some lightning bolts.

When it was revealed to him, Nolan celebrated in that joyous way that’s only possible when you’re 6. Some of my fellow parents out there may have experienced a similar moment, when it’s hard to tell whether parent or child is happier.

He ran over to us, thanked us, gave us hugs, and said to Anne, “But what’s chows?” It rhymed with house.

“Chows?” She said.

“Chows.” He pointed to a pad on his bike. “My bike says ‘chows.'”

“Oh, that’s Chaos,” Anne said, with a grin.

“Oh. That’s weird.” He said. Then: “Chaos!” He hopped on his new bike and sped down the street as fast as his chunky little legs would carry him.

That was about 11 years ago. Ever since then, our family has said chows when we mean chaos, and we’ve said it a lot lately, as in “we are seriously living in a chows house,” while the construction we’ve wanted to do for longer than we’ve been saying chows is completed.

This weekend, Anne and I cleaned out our garage, so we can transfer some of the chows from the house – some furniture and several boxes of my books, mostly – out there. (Like most Angelenos, our garage isn’t a car hold, it’s a storage facility. When I meet people in my neighborhood who park their cars in their garage, I am instantly suspicious of them.)

We’ve done this about once a year since we moved here ten years ago this week, and every year I get rid of more and more stuff that just isn’t as important to me as it once was. It’s a freeing and affirming feeling to look at some old T-shirt or random thing that defined me when I was 22, and know that . . . well, I just don’t need it around anymore. I’ve moved on, embraced the present, grown and changed.

This time around, I culled lots of CDs and DVDs, and I took two big boxes of video tapes to Goodwill because we don’t even own a VCR anymore. While I piled them into the car, I told Anne, “We’re probably the last generation to do this. Our kids don’t have the physical media for music and movies the same way we did. That’s weird.”

She didn’t need to point out that normal people don’t accumulate books, movies, and music like I do; evidence of that teetered around us in various stacks.

While I sorted some old techno CDs (Serious Beats Volume 3, anyone? Sasha and John Digweed at Renaissance?) she zeroed in on a box that my mom had given me a few years ago.

“What’s in here?” She said.

“Oh, that’s . . . um . . . nothing.” I said.

Husbands: the very best way to convince your wives that they need to stop what they’re doing and immediately open the box and explore its contents is to answer, “Oh, that’s . . . um . . . nothing.” When they ask you what is inside.

A moment later, she was surrounded by a bunch of old I’m a Teenage Heartthrob posters and clippings from teen magazines, where my awkward teenage dorkiness is on full display for anyone who had a subscription to Big Bopper. Including this:

complete_dork_loves_batman.jpg

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was really awkward in the 80s. 80s fashion is nothing to be proud of, but at least most of you who also survived it can keep that between you and your family. My awkward teenage . . . everything . . . was shared with everyone. Loudly. Incessantly. Most of you have plausible deniability with your kids, but I am forced to acknowledge that, yes, I wore as many Swatches as I could fit onto both of my wrists. And my ankle. And, yes, I owned and proudly wore several Bill Cosby sweaters. And yes, I frequently wore white leather shoes with no socks, because some salesgirl told me that looked “hot” with my baggy acid-washed Z Cavaricci jeans. And no, I can’t deny that I thought Gotcha and Genera Hypercolor T-shirts and Oakley Blades were totally awesome, especially when worn together with bright green neoprene Body Glove shorts.

I really wanted to throw that box of stuff away, for a lot of reasons that I can’t seem to articulate in a way that doesn’t make me feel like a complete douche, but Anne talked me out of it.

Maybe I’ll scan some of it and share it, as a public service intervention for the damn kids today who romanticize 80s fashion.

It was chows back then, guys. Pure and simple: it was chows.

great moments in instant messaging

Posted on By Wil

Any geek can tell you what superpower they’d want to have. We rarely have to think about it, because most of us gave the question a lot of time and careful consideration when we weren’t talking to girls during our youth.

Earlier tonight, the subject came up in an IM conversation with my friend Ryan.

Wil: So what superpower would you want?

Ryan: I think I’d like the ability to shapeshift

Ryan: Or intagibility

Ryan: Or spelling

Wil: OMG that’s going on my blog right now.

Happy weekend, everyone.

i worked on naruto today

Posted on By Wil

So I worked on Naruto today. I don’t think I can say what character I voiced, or what the story was about, but I’m going to be in more than one episode, and it’ll start in about a month. I’m recording again on Friday, and I’ll ask then if I’m allowed to give up any details.

I had to get up much earlier than usual to make it to the studio on time this morning, and my brain, as it so often does, decided that the best way to ensure I got a good night’s sleep was to sing songs, make me too hot then too cold then too hot then too cold all fucking night long. I think I slept for 3 hours, and I’ve felt a little blurry all day.

Naruto is originally in Japanese, so I was dubbing this character for the English broadcast. It was really different from working on Legion or Ben 10, and was more like looping live action. It was a lot of fun, though, and the episodes I saw while I worked today were much darker than the stuff I’ve seen Nolan watch. I think the damn kids today will dig the story arc that I’m part of, but when I tried to tell Nolan what the story was about while I drove him home from school today, he was adamant that I not give him any spoilers, so my one opportunity to actually check in with a reliable representative of the damn kids today was cut off.

I had a lot of fun, though, and it was really satisfying to work in a genre that I’ve wanted to be a part of for a long time. If you count Macross, Robotech, and Battle of the Planets, I’ve been watching Anime since I was a little kid. If you’re more of a purist, I’ve been watching since I got Akira on a fifth-generation VHS bootleg at a con when I was 14. (Funny-but-true story: my friends and I watched that tape over and over again, but since the original Japanese dialog wasn’t subtitled, we had no idea what the story was. We built one of our own that we thought was pretty good, but turns out was completely wrong.)

I’m not super hardcore or anything, but I enjoy anime and manga, and I was awfully excited every time I got to do all the traditional anime sounds, like the various gasps, and the occasionally-awkward translations and bits of dialog we had to add to match the mouth movements (which were originally animated to go with Japanese. Mostly, though, I felt the tremendous satisfaction that comes with bringing a character to life and making him my own.

I always tell people who want to be actors that they have to need it, the way we all need to eat or sleep. It’s a long hard road, fraught with uncertainty and more defeats than victories, and if you don’t have a visceral, primal, almost supernatural need to do it (that is deeper than “I want to be rich and famous”) it’s just not worth it.

Bringing a character to life is how I chase the dragon. Whether it’s writing, acting on camera, or acting with my voice, I need that fix, man. For a few hours today, I got it, and it felt so good.

Maybe that’s why my brain was so worked up last night. Maybe I was subconsciously shivering with antici . . . pation.

I wonder how I’ll sleep tonight?