Category: WWdN in Exile

So … I’m not even going to try to introduce this, because I can’t do it justice with my words:

Yes, Angie K., who makes awesome things, figured out a way to make a freaking paint by numbers painting of the infamous Velvet Wesley Crusher painting being held by me, and then she painted it.

Angie K. is awesome (as is Mister Angie K., who is better known as Ted, but will always be Mister Angie K. to me, the way I’ll always be “Anne’s boyfriend” to our friend Burns!) I saw them at the Phoenix Comicon this weekend, and she gave me this most lovely gift that I was not worthy to receive. I’m not sure if the photo captures its majesty, but the frame matches the fame on the infamous Velvet Wesley Crusher painting almost exactly.

Thank you, Angie K., for nerding up my office that much more!

(Click photo to embiggen, and see the entire set at flickr.)

I recently had one of those “so crazy it just might work” ideas, and I was at a meeting very, very late last night talking about it. When I got home, the entire house was asleep, but my dogs (who must believe that I’m never going to come back every time I walk out the front door) ran laps around the living room when I walked though it on my way to my office.

“Hey, quiet,” I said, dropping to one knee and scratching their heads. “You’re going to wake up your mom and I’m going to get in trouble because of it!”

The two of them ran out toward the kitchen, and met me in my office with gifts: Riley brought me her knotted chew rope, and Ferris brought me her poorly-named indestructible chew ring.

“Yes, that’s quite a collection of toys you have,” I said.

They thumped their tails on the floor, and looked expectantly between their toys and me.

“Sorry girls,” I said, “it’s too late. We’ll have to play in the morning.”

Riley dove down with her little dog butt up in the air and whipped her rope around like crazy.

Oh, right. “blah blah girls blah blah PLAY blah.” I thought.

I may have engaged in a little tug of war with both of them, before I sat down to copy my notes into my computer and ponder if this idea is so crazy it might work, or is so crazy, it’s just crazy.

It took me a long time to unwind and quiet my brain, but I eventually made it into bed without waking up my lovely wife and ending up on the wrong end of The Wrath Of Anne. I slept peacefully and dreamlessly until Riley decided it was time I got up (about an hour before I would have chosen to get out of bed, but there are worse things to see first thing in the morning than the unconditional love of your dog who just wants you to hurry up and get out of bed so I can walk around the house with you!)

I dragged myself to the kitchen and kissed my wife on the top of her head. Both our dogs came in behind me.

“How’d your meeting go?” She said.

I told her about it.

“That sounds cool,” she said.

“It’s so crazy, it just might work,” I said. “Are you going to finish your coffee?”

I pointed to her half-filled mug, which had a picture of me on it.

“I’m finished,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks. Riley decided that I needed to get up earlier than I did, so I need coffee.”

“Well, that means I get to see you before I go to work!” She kneeled down and scruffed Riley’s little face. “Thanks, Riley!”

She picked up her keys and purse. “I love you. I’ll be home this afternoon.”

“Okay,” I said. “I found out when I got home last night that I have an audition at five, so I may not be here.”

“What for?”

I told her.

“I hear that’s a cool show,” she said.

“I have also heard that,” I said. I sipped my coffee. “I think I can nail it, too.” I told her why.

“Break your legs,” she said. “I have to go.”

We kissed each other goodbye and I watched through the window until I couldn’t see her any more.

While I made myself breakfast, the phone rang. Caller ID said it was my son Ryan.

We talked for a minute while I washed quinoa and sliced bananas. When I hung up the phone, I said to Twitter, “Nothing is as good as the unexpected, “Hey, I just wanted to say hi and I love you” phone calls from my son. I really miss him.”

While my breakfast cooked, I got an idea and dialed the phone.

A second later it connected.

“Hello?”

“Hey dad,” I said. “I just wanted to say hi, and I love you.”

Oh man, I love this so much.

(created by Patrick K.)

I don’t want to ruin the joke, but since people on the internet seem to be sarcasm-challenged: Aaron is kidding. We are members of the mutual admiration society, fellow hockey goaltenders, and share an affinity for as much beer as we can find. No joke: we contributed to the drying up of the Guinness tap at the sportsbar across the street from the hotel in Phoenix.

I’ve done two shows with Aaron, and I’ve been lucky to sit next to him both times. He’s what we call Good People™ and even though he totally fucked up the beard curve at the convention, I hope to see him again sooner than later.

A teacher once told an improv class I was in that performers should always work to amuse themselves and have fun while they’re performing, because “when you’re enjoying yourself on stage, the audience will relax and have fun with you.”

It’s one of those things that seems completely obvious, but for a group of first-year students, it was incredibly valuable advice that made a big difference for a lot of us.

I mention this because I really amused and enjoyed myself while I wrote this week’s LA Daily, analog folding @ home:

“Excuse me,” I said to the bored teenage girl who didn’t know how lucky she was to have a job, “I can’t seem to find the Far Side calendar.”

She stopped texting and gave me a look.

“There isn’t a Far Side calendar,” she said.

I laughed at her hilarious joke.

“Seriously,” I said, “make with the Far Side calendar.”

She gave me another look. “They. Did. Not. Make. One. This. Year.”

I began to feel frightened and confused. “They always make a Far Side calendar! How can there not be a Far Side calendar? This is the worst thing since the Holocaust!”

“I’ll be sure to let the company know that.” She said.

My wife put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. He gets like this when he hasn’t taken his pills.”

The girl gave my wife a look, my wife gave me a look, I gave them both a look, and before I knew it, we were walking to the bookstore.

“I don’t think she appreciated my unique brand of tasteless humor,” I said.

“Jee, do you think?” My wife said.

A few minutes later, we stood in the calendar area at the bookstore.

“I can’t believe there’s no Far Side calendar,” I said.

“Yeah,” my wife said, “I got that.”

We looked for several minutes, finding a few possible candidates, but nothing as good as the Far Side calendar that, in my mind, had classics like Midvale School for the Gifted, How Birds See the World, and That One With The Cows Where They’re All Standing Up And One Of Them Says “CAR!” So They Get On Four Legs While The Car Drives By And Then They Stand Back Up.

I took in a breath and opened my mouth to speak.

“No. You’re not going to say another word about it.”

…man, I really miss The Far Side.