WIL WHEATON dot NET: 1.5

If you'd like to read my most recent blog posts, head over to WIL WHEATON dot NET: In Exile, my backup blog at Typepad.

Hi there. WWdN is currently undergoing a redesign and some maintenance. If you'd like to know what the status of the redesign is, or see some of the older WWdN files, read this entry.

What in the wide world of sports is going on here?

Way back in September of last year, I attempted to upgrade Movable Type, the blogging software that powers WWdN. I also attempted to move several hundred entries and tens of thousands of comments into a newly-created (and faster) MySQL database.

And, uh, I broke it.

Actually, I didn't break it. Someone who left a comment broke it when they used a seemingly random string of characters to indicate a break in their comment. Unbeknownst to me and them, it was the same string of characters MT used to indicate the end of an entry and its associated comments. When MT was moving all the data into its new (did I mention faster?) database, it came to that string of characters, and said to itself, "Oh boy! I get to start a new entry now! Let's see, what's the TITLE of that entry?"

Look . . . look . . . look . . .

"Uh-oh, there's no TITLE. I'd better look some more."

Look . . . look . . . look . . .

"Yeah, it's still not there. Well, I don't know what the next entry is TITLEd, so I'm going to just barf all over the server now, and fail. I'm sure one of the Users I heard about in TRON will figure this out and fix it quickly. There's no way my User, Wil, would stay in some backup blog for six months!"

Ha! Stupid smug software. I've been in Exile for nine months! Who's laughing now, jerk? Who's your daddy! Say my name, bitch! Yeah!

Uh. Sorry about that.

Off to Exile

I didn't know how long it would take me to figure out the problem, fix it, and get back here to WWdN, so I set up a backup blog at Typepad, called WIL WHEATON dot NET: In Exile. I intended to hang out there for a couple of weeks while I worked on this blog, but I quickly discovered that WYSIWYG editor at Typepad is great, and since it did all the heavy lifting for me (formatting, marking up links and inserting and modifying images) I had much more time to just take creative ideas and put them into my blog. Around this time, I also got some new writing jobs that actually put money into my pocket and food on my table -- jobs writing about poker for CardSquad, writing a column on classic gaming for the AV Club called The Games of our Lives, and editing the geek news at Suicde Girls. In my spare time, I played a lot of Texas Holdem Poker at Poker Stars (where I'm a member of Team PokerStars) and did things with my family. I had one of my first real "grown up" moments the day I realized that there really are only 24 hours in a day, and I had to choose very carefully how I wanted to spend them. You know what I didn't want to spend them on? hand-coding html and tweaking software settings. It's sad, and I'll probably lose a 3d20 geek points for saying it, but those days are way, way behind me. After a day of making freelance deadlines, the last thing I'd want to do is try to repair and redesign my website, and since I was happy in Exile, it just wasn't that important to me.

The database was eventually repaired, thanks to the efforts of Mike Pusateri, who managed to scrape the entire blog for me, and put it into a MT-readable format as an Xmas gift, and the technical support staff at Six Apart, who figured out what the hell was wrong with my dabase in the first place. Repaired database in hand, I found myself with a delimma: return to the now-totally-outated and badly-in-need-of-a-redesign WWdN, or continue using Typepad? Mostly, it was Typepad's awesome WYSIWYG editor that was keeping me in Exile, but there was also the redesign issue: no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come up with anything that I really liked.

A few weeks ago, the design problem was unexpectedly solved, when I wrote a series of posts in exile (part one, part two, part three) that helped me clear out a bunch of mental logjams. Seconds before I hit publish on the final one, the way I wanted the redesigned WWdN to look sprung into my mind fully-formed. I grabbed a piece of paper, sketched it out, scanned it, and e-mailed it to my friend, who is working on it at this very moment. I've found two great replacements for the WYSIWYG editor I loved so much: ecto, which is a desktop blogging application for Windows and Mac, and Performancing, which is a free Firefox extension that runs on just about any platform in the world, and is optimized for WheatonIX. (In fact, I composed and published this entry using Performancing. Yes, it's that easy to use.)

So this post represents a bridge between WWdN, and WWdN 2: Electric Boogaloo. All the links you would see on the front page of the old WWdN are in this post, so if you're new to WWdN you can explore some of the old (and massively outdated) sections.

WWdN will be re-launched very, very soon. Until then, you can use all the nifty information to explore what's already here. You can also come over to WIL WHEATON dot NET: In Exile to find out where my mind is right now.

Thanks for stopping by.

Old WWdN Content

• If this is your first time here, you should read this.
• By popular demand, you can now see or hear me read from my books Just A Geek and Dancing Barefoot! If you like what you hear, you may want to pick up a copy of Just A Geek: Teh Audiobook. Or not. Whatever. I'm not the boss of you.
• audio blog
• photo blog
• faq
• about
• gallery
• contact
• links
• store
• appearances
• Technorati Profile

Posted by Wil at 09:38 PM | Permalink

I slept through the night like a baby. No dreams, no restlessness, not a single disturbance. When I woke this morning, the clock said 5:58. I beat the alarm by 3 minutes! I victoriously turned it off before it could beep, and hopped out of bed feeling relieved and rested.

I drank a cup of coffee, ate some cereal, and met my friend Burns at 6:45. We spent the next six hours at Dodger Stadium, standing in line for opening day tickets.

"The race for third place has already begun! Be part of the excitement at Dodger Stadium!"

Continue reading "Treefingers" »

Posted by Wil at 03:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (40)

I slept through the night like a baby. No dreams, no restlessness, not a single disturbance. When I woke this morning, the clock said 5:58. I beat the alarm by 3 minutes! I victoriously turned it off before it could beep, and hopped out of bed feeling relieved and rested.

I drank a cup of coffee, ate some cereal, and met my friend Burns at 6:45. We spent the next six hours at Dodger Stadium, standing in line for opening day tickets.

"The race for third place has already begun! Be part of the excitement at Dodger Stadium!"

Continue reading "Treefingers" »

Posted by Wil at 03:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (40)

I slept through the night like a baby. No dreams, no restlessness, not a single disturbance. When I woke this morning, the clock said 5:58. I beat the alarm by 3 minutes! I victoriously turned it off before it could beep, and hopped out of bed feeling relieved and rested.

I drank a cup of coffee, ate some cereal, and met my friend Burns at 6:45. We spent the next six hours at Dodger Stadium, standing in line for opening day tickets.

"The race for third place has already begun! Be part of the excitement at Dodger Stadium!"

Continue reading "Treefingers" »

Posted by Wil at 03:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (40)

Woke up early yesterday, anxious to get out on the trail . . . and immediately went back to sleep. Heavy fog and ominous rain clouds forced us to change our plans. Though I love hiking in the mist, we didn't want to take a chance on being caught in the rain, and we didn't want the kids to miss out on the amazing view.

So we went to the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History instead.

It was a great way to spend a few hours, and it was the first time I'd been there since I was in elementary school. Did you know that Cacao trees produce fruit all year round, and can't be harvested by machine? I didn't know that until yesterday.

Ah, sweet, sweet knowledge, how I love to dine at your all-you-can-eat buffet.

I finished Vice City last night. Haven't 100%-ed it, yet, but I beat the mob. I won't let the kids watch me play it, or play it themselves, but I did allow them to hang with me while we did the asset missions for the car dealership, and some unique jumps. Funtimes.

Anne is taking a little two-day getaway with her best friend, and she asked me if I could help her burn a bunch of 80s music for the drive. While I was digging through my CDs, finding all my compilations and stuff, I also dug out some things I haven't listened to in ages, but still love.

Here are some CDs that I pulled out of the closet last night. Each one of them has been, at one time or another, "The Greatest @#$%^&ing Record EVER!":

• Love at Fist Sting - Scorpions
  
• World Clique - Deelite
  
• The Sickness - Disturbed
  
• The Bends - Radiohead
  
• Greatest Hits - Steve Miller Band
  
• This is the Modern World: UK Punk 2 (1977-78) - Various
  
• Rushmore Soundtrack - Various
  
• Slingblade Soundtrack - Various
  
• Boot Heel Drag: The MGM Years - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys (playing now!)
  
• When I Woke - Rusted Root
  
• dubnobasswithmyheadman - Underworld
  

Music isn't something that I just put on in the backgroud. It is always the soundtrack to my life.

I spoke WAY too soon about KDE 3.1 I broke Kmail, and maybe even some Qt libraries. Luckily, the insanely cool guys at my local LUG have offered lots of help on their mailing list . . . but I think I'm going to go back to 3.0 for the time being. I've been using Gnome, which isn't my favorite desktop . . . and playing with Windowmaker, which I haven't used since RH 5.2. I'd forgotten just how great Windowmaker is. Since I pretty much only use the computer for writing, browsing, and e-mail, I can easily use Windowmaker, or even IceWM. OH! I managed to teach myself enough to get around in vim! I issue a personal challenge to myself: write some sort of cool php script in vim before the end of May.

I really want a dev box!

Sorry, geeked out there a bit.

*snort*

Posted by Wil at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (103)

Woke up early yesterday, anxious to get out on the trail . . . and immediately went back to sleep. Heavy fog and ominous rain clouds forced us to change our plans. Though I love hiking in the mist, we didn't want to take a chance on being caught in the rain, and we didn't want the kids to miss out on the amazing view.

So we went to the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History instead.

It was a great way to spend a few hours, and it was the first time I'd been there since I was in elementary school. Did you know that Cacao trees produce fruit all year round, and can't be harvested by machine? I didn't know that until yesterday.

Ah, sweet, sweet knowledge, how I love to dine at your all-you-can-eat buffet.

I finished Vice City last night. Haven't 100%-ed it, yet, but I beat the mob. I won't let the kids watch me play it, or play it themselves, but I did allow them to hang with me while we did the asset missions for the car dealership, and some unique jumps. Funtimes.

Anne is taking a little two-day getaway with her best friend, and she asked me if I could help her burn a bunch of 80s music for the drive. While I was digging through my CDs, finding all my compilations and stuff, I also dug out some things I haven't listened to in ages, but still love.

Here are some CDs that I pulled out of the closet last night. Each one of them has been, at one time or another, "The Greatest @#$%^&ing Record EVER!":

• Love at Fist Sting - Scorpions
  
• World Clique - Deelite
  
• The Sickness - Disturbed
  
• The Bends - Radiohead
  
• Greatest Hits - Steve Miller Band
  
• This is the Modern World: UK Punk 2 (1977-78) - Various
  
• Rushmore Soundtrack - Various
  
• Slingblade Soundtrack - Various
  
• Boot Heel Drag: The MGM Years - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys (playing now!)
  
• When I Woke - Rusted Root
  
• dubnobasswithmyheadman - Underworld
  

Music isn't something that I just put on in the backgroud. It is always the soundtrack to my life.

I spoke WAY too soon about KDE 3.1 I broke Kmail, and maybe even some Qt libraries. Luckily, the insanely cool guys at my local LUG have offered lots of help on their mailing list . . . but I think I'm going to go back to 3.0 for the time being. I've been using Gnome, which isn't my favorite desktop . . . and playing with Windowmaker, which I haven't used since RH 5.2. I'd forgotten just how great Windowmaker is. Since I pretty much only use the computer for writing, browsing, and e-mail, I can easily use Windowmaker, or even IceWM. OH! I managed to teach myself enough to get around in vim! I issue a personal challenge to myself: write some sort of cool php script in vim before the end of May.

I really want a dev box!

Sorry, geeked out there a bit.

*snort*

Posted by Wil at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (103)

Woke up early yesterday, anxious to get out on the trail . . . and immediately went back to sleep. Heavy fog and ominous rain clouds forced us to change our plans. Though I love hiking in the mist, we didn't want to take a chance on being caught in the rain, and we didn't want the kids to miss out on the amazing view.

So we went to the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History instead.

It was a great way to spend a few hours, and it was the first time I'd been there since I was in elementary school. Did you know that Cacao trees produce fruit all year round, and can't be harvested by machine? I didn't know that until yesterday.

Ah, sweet, sweet knowledge, how I love to dine at your all-you-can-eat buffet.

I finished Vice City last night. Haven't 100%-ed it, yet, but I beat the mob. I won't let the kids watch me play it, or play it themselves, but I did allow them to hang with me while we did the asset missions for the car dealership, and some unique jumps. Funtimes.

Anne is taking a little two-day getaway with her best friend, and she asked me if I could help her burn a bunch of 80s music for the drive. While I was digging through my CDs, finding all my compilations and stuff, I also dug out some things I haven't listened to in ages, but still love.

Here are some CDs that I pulled out of the closet last night. Each one of them has been, at one time or another, "The Greatest @#$%^&ing Record EVER!":

• Love at Fist Sting - Scorpions
  
• World Clique - Deelite
  
• The Sickness - Disturbed
  
• The Bends - Radiohead
  
• Greatest Hits - Steve Miller Band
  
• This is the Modern World: UK Punk 2 (1977-78) - Various
  
• Rushmore Soundtrack - Various
  
• Slingblade Soundtrack - Various
  
• Boot Heel Drag: The MGM Years - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys (playing now!)
  
• When I Woke - Rusted Root
  
• dubnobasswithmyheadman - Underworld
  

Music isn't something that I just put on in the backgroud. It is always the soundtrack to my life.

I spoke WAY too soon about KDE 3.1 I broke Kmail, and maybe even some Qt libraries. Luckily, the insanely cool guys at my local LUG have offered lots of help on their mailing list . . . but I think I'm going to go back to 3.0 for the time being. I've been using Gnome, which isn't my favorite desktop . . . and playing with Windowmaker, which I haven't used since RH 5.2. I'd forgotten just how great Windowmaker is. Since I pretty much only use the computer for writing, browsing, and e-mail, I can easily use Windowmaker, or even IceWM. OH! I managed to teach myself enough to get around in vim! I issue a personal challenge to myself: write some sort of cool php script in vim before the end of May.

I really want a dev box!

Sorry, geeked out there a bit.

*snort*

Posted by Wil at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (103)

I read at Slashdot a great question: "What advice would you give your 12 year-old self?"

Here's mine:

Dear 12 year-old self,

Your life is about to be forever changed. You don't know it now, but in three years, you're going to be in millions of households world-wide.

Everywhere you go, people are going to scream at you that they hate you. Listen to this advice, 12 year-old self, because I know that nobody else is going to give it to you: whatever you do, don't listen to them, and let don't let them define your sense of self-worth. It's going to hurt, a lot, and it will go on for years. You won't understand it, and you'll try really hard to convince them otherwise, but they will not listen . . . because they're just as insecure and confused as you are right now. You're going to want to quit the show, but if you do, you'll be 30 before you stop regretting it. Trust me on this one.

Stay on that show until it's over, and when you're older, you'll realize that for every person who screamed "I hate you," there is another who was quietly inspired by something you did. It all balances out, kid.

You are never going to be cool, no matter how hard you try, so save yourself the agony of trying to fit in. You end up marrying a real hottie who loves your inner geek.

Posted by Wil at 03:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (169) | TrackBacks (1)

I read at Slashdot a great question: "What advice would you give your 12 year-old self?"

Here's mine:

Dear 12 year-old self,

Your life is about to be forever changed. You don't know it now, but in three years, you're going to be in millions of households world-wide.

Everywhere you go, people are going to scream at you that they hate you. Listen to this advice, 12 year-old self, because I know that nobody else is going to give it to you: whatever you do, don't listen to them, and let don't let them define your sense of self-worth. It's going to hurt, a lot, and it will go on for years. You won't understand it, and you'll try really hard to convince them otherwise, but they will not listen . . . because they're just as insecure and confused as you are right now. You're going to want to quit the show, but if you do, you'll be 30 before you stop regretting it. Trust me on this one.

Stay on that show until it's over, and when you're older, you'll realize that for every person who screamed "I hate you," there is another who was quietly inspired by something you did. It all balances out, kid.

You are never going to be cool, no matter how hard you try, so save yourself the agony of trying to fit in. You end up marrying a real hottie who loves your inner geek.

Posted by Wil at 03:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (169) | TrackBacks (1)

I read at Slashdot a great question: "What advice would you give your 12 year-old self?"

Here's mine:

Dear 12 year-old self,

Your life is about to be forever changed. You don't know it now, but in three years, you're going to be in millions of households world-wide.

Everywhere you go, people are going to scream at you that they hate you. Listen to this advice, 12 year-old self, because I know that nobody else is going to give it to you: whatever you do, don't listen to them, and let don't let them define your sense of self-worth. It's going to hurt, a lot, and it will go on for years. You won't understand it, and you'll try really hard to convince them otherwise, but they will not listen . . . because they're just as insecure and confused as you are right now. You're going to want to quit the show, but if you do, you'll be 30 before you stop regretting it. Trust me on this one.

Stay on that show until it's over, and when you're older, you'll realize that for every person who screamed "I hate you," there is another who was quietly inspired by something you did. It all balances out, kid.

You are never going to be cool, no matter how hard you try, so save yourself the agony of trying to fit in. You end up marrying a real hottie who loves your inner geek.

Posted by Wil at 03:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (169) | TrackBacks (1)

Off the top of my head, without any editing, a stream a consciousness:

Man, I really want to write, but I am just out of ideas. It's not that I'm "blocked," or anything, I just can't think of anything to write about.

So I'll just make myself write, and maybe something interesting will come out.

Maybe it's because there's not too much going on in my life right now: no auditions, nothing really exciting at home . . . I've just been working on rewrites of Just A Geek, and collecting some other weblog entries that I really like, (but couldn't put in JAG) for their own smaller book.

Just A Geek came in at over 350 pages today, and "Dancing Barefoot" comes in at about 90. I'm applying for ISBNs tomorrow.

I did some heavy rewriting of SpongeBob Vega$ Pants, to clean it up and make it flow better, and while I did that, I relived those five days. Jesus, what a great time that was. What a great con.

Jesus, I really hate Puddle of Mudd, and POD, and all those shitty bands that sound like them.

I've been trading calls with Adam from Creation about the Grand Slam show, and it sounds like he's excited to have me there. I've been thinking about conventions a lot lately, because I talk about them a great deal in JAG, and realized something: I have ALWAYS had more in common with the fans than the franchise, and attending conventions, as a speaker or a paying fan, is something I'll always love to do. Now that I have stories to read, a website to talk about, and comedy shows to do, I don't feel any angst about doing the shows. I can't tell you enough how great that feels.

As I get closer to finishing JAG, and it's younger brother (which requires far less work) I've been looking for printers . . . and actually got some quotes today for the first printing. It's very exciting, and also terrifying.

If anyone reading this has experience with a printer, and you'd like to share comments about that printer (good or bad) I'd really like to hear them.

I mowed my lawn tonight, and my shoes are grass stained and smelling like a summer morning.

When I mow the lawn, I like to listen to Jimmy Eat World on my car radio. "A Praise Chorus" is one of the greatest songs I've ever heard. This afternoon, I didn't listen to the radio, but I did sing "Dogs" from Pink Floyd to myself as I mowed in a circle, rather than the diagonal lines I usually make.

My cool neighbor moved away on Friday. He's like 80, and Anne and I both felt like he's moving away to die. He'd lived in his house since 1951. That made me really sad. Now his house is empty, and will remain that way for a long time, according to neighborhood gossip.

Ferris wants to go outside.

Nolan is watching WWE. I remember when I was a kid, and I'd get up each Saturday morning to watch WWF when it was on KCOP here in Los Angeles. I loved it, once I figured out it was fake.

Anyone remember M.U.S.C.L.E. figures? The Dark Tower game from Milton Bradley? I bought a new GURPS 3E last week, to replace my old and falling apart copy. Boy do I love RPGs.

This was more fun than I thought it would be, but I can guarantee you that I'll read this in a few days and want to take it down. Well, I feel pretty satisfied now. Maybe I am blocked.

Does everybody really love Raymond? Because I really don't.

Anne just walked in, and Ferris doesn't want to go outside any more. Now she just wants to run around with Anne.

I really love Anne a lot. She is TRULY my "other half."

I have Red Hat 8.0, and I want to install KDE 3.1. Has anyone else done this? Is it going to bork my machine like it did when I tried to upgrade on Mandrake 8.2? Why can't I get CUPS to work?

I have to go make dinner: Falafel, tabouleh, and hummus. How Greek^H^H^H^H^H Lebanese of us.

Posted by Wil at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (256)

Off the top of my head, without any editing, a stream a consciousness:

Man, I really want to write, but I am just out of ideas. It's not that I'm "blocked," or anything, I just can't think of anything to write about.

So I'll just make myself write, and maybe something interesting will come out.

Maybe it's because there's not too much going on in my life right now: no auditions, nothing really exciting at home . . . I've just been working on rewrites of Just A Geek, and collecting some other weblog entries that I really like, (but couldn't put in JAG) for their own smaller book.

Just A Geek came in at over 350 pages today, and "Dancing Barefoot" comes in at about 90. I'm applying for ISBNs tomorrow.

I did some heavy rewriting of SpongeBob Vega$ Pants, to clean it up and make it flow better, and while I did that, I relived those five days. Jesus, what a great time that was. What a great con.

Jesus, I really hate Puddle of Mudd, and POD, and all those shitty bands that sound like them.

I've been trading calls with Adam from Creation about the Grand Slam show, and it sounds like he's excited to have me there. I've been thinking about conventions a lot lately, because I talk about them a great deal in JAG, and realized something: I have ALWAYS had more in common with the fans than the franchise, and attending conventions, as a speaker or a paying fan, is something I'll always love to do. Now that I have stories to read, a website to talk about, and comedy shows to do, I don't feel any angst about doing the shows. I can't tell you enough how great that feels.

As I get closer to finishing JAG, and it's younger brother (which requires far less work) I've been looking for printers . . . and actually got some quotes today for the first printing. It's very exciting, and also terrifying.

If anyone reading this has experience with a printer, and you'd like to share comments about that printer (good or bad) I'd really like to hear them.

I mowed my lawn tonight, and my shoes are grass stained and smelling like a summer morning.

When I mow the lawn, I like to listen to Jimmy Eat World on my car radio. "A Praise Chorus" is one of the greatest songs I've ever heard. This afternoon, I didn't listen to the radio, but I did sing "Dogs" from Pink Floyd to myself as I mowed in a circle, rather than the diagonal lines I usually make.

My cool neighbor moved away on Friday. He's like 80, and Anne and I both felt like he's moving away to die. He'd lived in his house since 1951. That made me really sad. Now his house is empty, and will remain that way for a long time, according to neighborhood gossip.

Ferris wants to go outside.

Nolan is watching WWE. I remember when I was a kid, and I'd get up each Saturday morning to watch WWF when it was on KCOP here in Los Angeles. I loved it, once I figured out it was fake.

Anyone remember M.U.S.C.L.E. figures? The Dark Tower game from Milton Bradley? I bought a new GURPS 3E last week, to replace my old and falling apart copy. Boy do I love RPGs.

This was more fun than I thought it would be, but I can guarantee you that I'll read this in a few days and want to take it down. Well, I feel pretty satisfied now. Maybe I am blocked.

Does everybody really love Raymond? Because I really don't.

Anne just walked in, and Ferris doesn't want to go outside any more. Now she just wants to run around with Anne.

I really love Anne a lot. She is TRULY my "other half."

I have Red Hat 8.0, and I want to install KDE 3.1. Has anyone else done this? Is it going to bork my machine like it did when I tried to upgrade on Mandrake 8.2? Why can't I get CUPS to work?

I have to go make dinner: Falafel, tabouleh, and hummus. How Greek^H^H^H^H^H Lebanese of us.

Posted by Wil at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (256)

Off the top of my head, without any editing, a stream a consciousness:

Man, I really want to write, but I am just out of ideas. It's not that I'm "blocked," or anything, I just can't think of anything to write about.

So I'll just make myself write, and maybe something interesting will come out.

Maybe it's because there's not too much going on in my life right now: no auditions, nothing really exciting at home . . . I've just been working on rewrites of Just A Geek, and collecting some other weblog entries that I really like, (but couldn't put in JAG) for their own smaller book.

Just A Geek came in at over 350 pages today, and "Dancing Barefoot" comes in at about 90. I'm applying for ISBNs tomorrow.

I did some heavy rewriting of SpongeBob Vega$ Pants, to clean it up and make it flow better, and while I did that, I relived those five days. Jesus, what a great time that was. What a great con.

Jesus, I really hate Puddle of Mudd, and POD, and all those shitty bands that sound like them.

I've been trading calls with Adam from Creation about the Grand Slam show, and it sounds like he's excited to have me there. I've been thinking about conventions a lot lately, because I talk about them a great deal in JAG, and realized something: I have ALWAYS had more in common with the fans than the franchise, and attending conventions, as a speaker or a paying fan, is something I'll always love to do. Now that I have stories to read, a website to talk about, and comedy shows to do, I don't feel any angst about doing the shows. I can't tell you enough how great that feels.

As I get closer to finishing JAG, and it's younger brother (which requires far less work) I've been looking for printers . . . and actually got some quotes today for the first printing. It's very exciting, and also terrifying.

If anyone reading this has experience with a printer, and you'd like to share comments about that printer (good or bad) I'd really like to hear them.

I mowed my lawn tonight, and my shoes are grass stained and smelling like a summer morning.

When I mow the lawn, I like to listen to Jimmy Eat World on my car radio. "A Praise Chorus" is one of the greatest songs I've ever heard. This afternoon, I didn't listen to the radio, but I did sing "Dogs" from Pink Floyd to myself as I mowed in a circle, rather than the diagonal lines I usually make.

My cool neighbor moved away on Friday. He's like 80, and Anne and I both felt like he's moving away to die. He'd lived in his house since 1951. That made me really sad. Now his house is empty, and will remain that way for a long time, according to neighborhood gossip.

Ferris wants to go outside.

Nolan is watching WWE. I remember when I was a kid, and I'd get up each Saturday morning to watch WWF when it was on KCOP here in Los Angeles. I loved it, once I figured out it was fake.

Anyone remember M.U.S.C.L.E. figures? The Dark Tower game from Milton Bradley? I bought a new GURPS 3E last week, to replace my old and falling apart copy. Boy do I love RPGs.

This was more fun than I thought it would be, but I can guarantee you that I'll read this in a few days and want to take it down. Well, I feel pretty satisfied now. Maybe I am blocked.

Does everybody really love Raymond? Because I really don't.

Anne just walked in, and Ferris doesn't want to go outside any more. Now she just wants to run around with Anne.

I really love Anne a lot. She is TRULY my "other half."

I have Red Hat 8.0, and I want to install KDE 3.1. Has anyone else done this? Is it going to bork my machine like it did when I tried to upgrade on Mandrake 8.2? Why can't I get CUPS to work?

I have to go make dinner: Falafel, tabouleh, and hummus. How Greek^H^H^H^H^H Lebanese of us.

Posted by Wil at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (256)

It's fun to watch someone go through a major crisis, even if it's self-inflicted. Puts things into perspective.

Some thoughts I had last night while listening to the rain bounce off my roof:

Ii have spent each day the past few weeks just inches from tears.

it's a lot of things: fear and uncertainty about the quality of my book being the biggest, having the sit there and take it while some Rich Fucking Asshole treated me like I was a little kid, stupid computer problems, anne's ex-husband bullshit, and finally the blog trolls (who I really should have just called assholes, because that's what they are) and emailers.

Alone, I can deal with any of those things, but together . . . well, it's just too much to deal with.

But the uncertainty about this book is killing me. I thought I had something really good, and shared it with a few people. Most of them told me it was really good, and gave some constructive feedback. A few of them absolutely ripped it to shreds, and gave me some constructive feedback. The result? I found myself unsure about everything. Unable to trust my instincts. I rewrote major parts to please others, instead of myself, and it left me paralyzed. I've since decided to just let it go. I'll finish some grammatical and spelling corrections, complete a few tiny changes where I want to add more information, and publish the damn thing.

I'm scared. I'm scared that it's not as good as I thought. I'm scared that it's better than I thought.
My mom told me that I was in the middle of "vast uncharted territory" and that it was okay to be afraid. I'm not so sure.

I shouldn't have posted my "I'm leaving, here's why, okay now I'm back but I'm really leaving and I hate you" post. What I should have said is, "I'm overwhelmed with several things in my life, and writing for WWDN isn't bringing me any joy right now. As a matter of fact, it's sort of a chore, so I'm taking some time off." What I posted gives way too much power and importance to a very small group of people who I should really just feel sorry for.

But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me feel just a tiny bit better to hear from people who actually SUPPORT me for a change. And Ben sent me a nice cartoon.

Note to self: don't post when emotional.

And you know what else? I am profoundly upset about war, dreams of war, and the Bush Junta. Patriot II? How the fuck did this happen? How did we, as a culture, sit back and put these people in charge?

And these "Terror alerts?" Does anyone believe them? Did you guys read about the "suspected terrorist" in SF Bay? Some tug boat captain suggests that he saw someone in an unlit Zodiac raft at 3AM, wearing a wetsuit. That's it.

The CG looked everywhere for this boat and its alleged terrorist, and found NOTHING.

But it's all over the news, because WE ARE ON ALERT!!1!!11!

What happened to critical thinking? Are the American people so soporific that they can't see this bullshit for what it is?

And now we're supposed to believe that Osama Bin Laden is JOINING FORCES WITH SADDAM?

What?!

The timing on this is all too pat for me, and I wonder where the fuck the critical voices are who should be questioning this stuff. Where are the other voices in this vast wilderness? Isn't anyone willing to speak up?

We are marching directly into a war, though there is massive public resistance to it.
We are marching directly into a war, and the media, the supposed 4th estate, isn't doing ANYTHING to keep people informed -- they're just propagandizing for the Bush Junta.
We are marching directly into a war, though the rest of the world wishes we'd just mind our ouw stinking business.

And nobody seems to care. And I'm "anti-American" because I feel this way.

I was picking up some tools at OSH about an hour ago, and helped an older woman take some plastic boxes down from a tall shelf. When I put them in her cart for her, she moved a bunch of duct tape and plastic sheeting out of the way. She told me how scared she was, and urged me to be prepared and safe.

That's perfect. This woman, who could be doing several other things today, is preparing for a terrorist attack, right here in Pasadena. Because she's afraid. Just like the Bush Junta wants us all to be.

Ugh. Note to self: don't post when emotional.

Posted by Wil at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (471) | TrackBacks (1)

It's fun to watch someone go through a major crisis, even if it's self-inflicted. Puts things into perspective.

Some thoughts I had last night while listening to the rain bounce off my roof:

Ii have spent each day the past few weeks just inches from tears.

it's a lot of things: fear and uncertainty about the quality of my book being the biggest, having the sit there and take it while some Rich Fucking Asshole treated me like I was a little kid, stupid computer problems, anne's ex-husband bullshit, and finally the blog trolls (who I really should have just called assholes, because that's what they are) and emailers.

Alone, I can deal with any of those things, but together . . . well, it's just too much to deal with.

But the uncertainty about this book is killing me. I thought I had something really good, and shared it with a few people. Most of them told me it was really good, and gave some constructive feedback. A few of them absolutely ripped it to shreds, and gave me some constructive feedback. The result? I found myself unsure about everything. Unable to trust my instincts. I rewrote major parts to please others, instead of myself, and it left me paralyzed. I've since decided to just let it go. I'll finish some grammatical and spelling corrections, complete a few tiny changes where I want to add more information, and publish the damn thing.

I'm scared. I'm scared that it's not as good as I thought. I'm scared that it's better than I thought.
My mom told me that I was in the middle of "vast uncharted territory" and that it was okay to be afraid. I'm not so sure.

I shouldn't have posted my "I'm leaving, here's why, okay now I'm back but I'm really leaving and I hate you" post. What I should have said is, "I'm overwhelmed with several things in my life, and writing for WWDN isn't bringing me any joy right now. As a matter of fact, it's sort of a chore, so I'm taking some time off." What I posted gives way too much power and importance to a very small group of people who I should really just feel sorry for.

But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me feel just a tiny bit better to hear from people who actually SUPPORT me for a change. And Ben sent me a nice cartoon.

Note to self: don't post when emotional.

And you know what else? I am profoundly upset about war, dreams of war, and the Bush Junta. Patriot II? How the fuck did this happen? How did we, as a culture, sit back and put these people in charge?

And these "Terror alerts?" Does anyone believe them? Did you guys read about the "suspected terrorist" in SF Bay? Some tug boat captain suggests that he saw someone in an unlit Zodiac raft at 3AM, wearing a wetsuit. That's it.

The CG looked everywhere for this boat and its alleged terrorist, and found NOTHING.

But it's all over the news, because WE ARE ON ALERT!!1!!11!

What happened to critical thinking? Are the American people so soporific that they can't see this bullshit for what it is?

And now we're supposed to believe that Osama Bin Laden is JOINING FORCES WITH SADDAM?

What?!

The timing on this is all too pat for me, and I wonder where the fuck the critical voices are who should be questioning this stuff. Where are the other voices in this vast wilderness? Isn't anyone willing to speak up?

We are marching directly into a war, though there is massive public resistance to it.
We are marching directly into a war, and the media, the supposed 4th estate, isn't doing ANYTHING to keep people informed -- they're just propagandizing for the Bush Junta.
We are marching directly into a war, though the rest of the world wishes we'd just mind our ouw stinking business.

And nobody seems to care. And I'm "anti-American" because I feel this way.

I was picking up some tools at OSH about an hour ago, and helped an older woman take some plastic boxes down from a tall shelf. When I put them in her cart for her, she moved a bunch of duct tape and plastic sheeting out of the way. She told me how scared she was, and urged me to be prepared and safe.

That's perfect. This woman, who could be doing several other things today, is preparing for a terrorist attack, right here in Pasadena. Because she's afraid. Just like the Bush Junta wants us all to be.

Ugh. Note to self: don't post when emotional.

Posted by Wil at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (471) | TrackBacks (1)

It's fun to watch someone go through a major crisis, even if it's self-inflicted. Puts things into perspective.

Some thoughts I had last night while listening to the rain bounce off my roof:

Ii have spent each day the past few weeks just inches from tears.

it's a lot of things: fear and uncertainty about the quality of my book being the biggest, having the sit there and take it while some Rich Fucking Asshole treated me like I was a little kid, stupid computer problems, anne's ex-husband bullshit, and finally the blog trolls (who I really should have just called assholes, because that's what they are) and emailers.

Alone, I can deal with any of those things, but together . . . well, it's just too much to deal with.

But the uncertainty about this book is killing me. I thought I had something really good, and shared it with a few people. Most of them told me it was really good, and gave some constructive feedback. A few of them absolutely ripped it to shreds, and gave me some constructive feedback. The result? I found myself unsure about everything. Unable to trust my instincts. I rewrote major parts to please others, instead of myself, and it left me paralyzed. I've since decided to just let it go. I'll finish some grammatical and spelling corrections, complete a few tiny changes where I want to add more information, and publish the damn thing.

I'm scared. I'm scared that it's not as good as I thought. I'm scared that it's better than I thought.
My mom told me that I was in the middle of "vast uncharted territory" and that it was okay to be afraid. I'm not so sure.

I shouldn't have posted my "I'm leaving, here's why, okay now I'm back but I'm really leaving and I hate you" post. What I should have said is, "I'm overwhelmed with several things in my life, and writing for WWDN isn't bringing me any joy right now. As a matter of fact, it's sort of a chore, so I'm taking some time off." What I posted gives way too much power and importance to a very small group of people who I should really just feel sorry for.

But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me feel just a tiny bit better to hear from people who actually SUPPORT me for a change. And Ben sent me a nice cartoon.

Note to self: don't post when emotional.

And you know what else? I am profoundly upset about war, dreams of war, and the Bush Junta. Patriot II? How the fuck did this happen? How did we, as a culture, sit back and put these people in charge?

And these "Terror alerts?" Does anyone believe them? Did you guys read about the "suspected terrorist" in SF Bay? Some tug boat captain suggests that he saw someone in an unlit Zodiac raft at 3AM, wearing a wetsuit. That's it.

The CG looked everywhere for this boat and its alleged terrorist, and found NOTHING.

But it's all over the news, because WE ARE ON ALERT!!1!!11!

What happened to critical thinking? Are the American people so soporific that they can't see this bullshit for what it is?

And now we're supposed to believe that Osama Bin Laden is JOINING FORCES WITH SADDAM?

What?!

The timing on this is all too pat for me, and I wonder where the fuck the critical voices are who should be questioning this stuff. Where are the other voices in this vast wilderness? Isn't anyone willing to speak up?

We are marching directly into a war, though there is massive public resistance to it.
We are marching directly into a war, and the media, the supposed 4th estate, isn't doing ANYTHING to keep people informed -- they're just propagandizing for the Bush Junta.
We are marching directly into a war, though the rest of the world wishes we'd just mind our ouw stinking business.

And nobody seems to care. And I'm "anti-American" because I feel this way.

I was picking up some tools at OSH about an hour ago, and helped an older woman take some plastic boxes down from a tall shelf. When I put them in her cart for her, she moved a bunch of duct tape and plastic sheeting out of the way. She told me how scared she was, and urged me to be prepared and safe.

That's perfect. This woman, who could be doing several other things today, is preparing for a terrorist attack, right here in Pasadena. Because she's afraid. Just like the Bush Junta wants us all to be.

Ugh. Note to self: don't post when emotional.

Posted by Wil at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (471) | TrackBacks (1)

I've had it with blog trolls, hateful e-mails, and the general idiocy that seems to overwhelm otherwise normal people when they connect to the Internet.

I just don't understand it. Where is your humanity? Do you treat people you see in real life the way you treat me? Do you go out of your way to insult and belittle people? Is your life so miserable, so empty and meaningless, your self-esteem so low that you need to attack me? Honestly, what have I ever done to you? Really. What have I ever done?

Dealing with this shit has become a huge and unecessary distraction, so WWDN will not be updated for the near future while I finish "Just A Geek" and take care of some other RL stuff.

I just . . . I just need a break. In the meantime, check out the archives. There's some stuff in there that I'm really proud of.

. . . I'll be enjoying Channel 2's TEAM COVERAGE of STORMWATCH.

Heh.

Posted by Wil at 06:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (500) | TrackBacks (1)

I've had it with blog trolls, hateful e-mails, and the general idiocy that seems to overwhelm otherwise normal people when they connect to the Internet.

I just don't understand it. Where is your humanity? Do you treat people you see in real life the way you treat me? Do you go out of your way to insult and belittle people? Is your life so miserable, so empty and meaningless, your self-esteem so low that you need to attack me? Honestly, what have I ever done to you? Really. What have I ever done?

Dealing with this shit has become a huge and unecessary distraction, so WWDN will not be updated for the near future while I finish "Just A Geek" and take care of some other RL stuff.

I just . . . I just need a break. In the meantime, check out the archives. There's some stuff in there that I'm really proud of.

. . . I'll be enjoying Channel 2's TEAM COVERAGE of STORMWATCH.

Heh.

Posted by Wil at 06:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (500) | TrackBacks (1)

I've had it with blog trolls, hateful e-mails, and the general idiocy that seems to overwhelm otherwise normal people when they connect to the Internet.

I just don't understand it. Where is your humanity? Do you treat people you see in real life the way you treat me? Do you go out of your way to insult and belittle people? Is your life so miserable, so empty and meaningless, your self-esteem so low that you need to attack me? Honestly, what have I ever done to you? Really. What have I ever done?

Dealing with this shit has become a huge and unecessary distraction, so WWDN will not be updated for the near future while I finish "Just A Geek" and take care of some other RL stuff.

I just . . . I just need a break. In the meantime, check out the archives. There's some stuff in there that I'm really proud of.

. . . I'll be enjoying Channel 2's TEAM COVERAGE of STORMWATCH.

Heh.

Posted by Wil at 06:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (500) | TrackBacks (1)

I just found out that the director for I, Robot "didn't respond to any" of the tapes he saw, including mine.

In the mysterious Hollywood lexicon, this can mean a number of things, but it usually comes down to one of the following:

• My interpretation of this character and his vision don't match up.
  
• I don't physically look like what he has in his mind.
  

These are both very valid, and totally understandable reasons . . . but it doesn't make me feel any less sad. It's frustrating to hear "the director didn't respond to you," because it's so nebulous. It's like being told, "You're not getting this job. Why? Because. Next!" It also has a sort of negative feeling to it, doesn't it? It doesn't help that I have heard "the director didn't respond" without any real elaboration countless times in my career .

I was very happy with my audition. I wouldn't change a single thing about it. I know that I could have done a great job with this character, and I would have been really good in this movie.

Whle I didn't sit in my living room for days, not eating and agonizing over getting this part, I was genuinely excited about the opportunities it presented. Working with Will Smith and Alex Proyas, and getting to play a robot would have been awesome.

Thanks for all the support, everyone.

The journey continues . . .

Posted by Wil at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (184)

I just found out that the director for I, Robot "didn't respond to any" of the tapes he saw, including mine.

In the mysterious Hollywood lexicon, this can mean a number of things, but it usually comes down to one of the following:

• My interpretation of this character and his vision don't match up.
  
• I don't physically look like what he has in his mind.
  

These are both very valid, and totally understandable reasons . . . but it doesn't make me feel any less sad. It's frustrating to hear "the director didn't respond to you," because it's so nebulous. It's like being told, "You're not getting this job. Why? Because. Next!" It also has a sort of negative feeling to it, doesn't it? It doesn't help that I have heard "the director didn't respond" without any real elaboration countless times in my career .

I was very happy with my audition. I wouldn't change a single thing about it. I know that I could have done a great job with this character, and I would have been really good in this movie.

Whle I didn't sit in my living room for days, not eating and agonizing over getting this part, I was genuinely excited about the opportunities it presented. Working with Will Smith and Alex Proyas, and getting to play a robot would have been awesome.

Thanks for all the support, everyone.

The journey continues . . .

Posted by Wil at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (184)

I just found out that the director for I, Robot "didn't respond to any" of the tapes he saw, including mine.

In the mysterious Hollywood lexicon, this can mean a number of things, but it usually comes down to one of the following:

• My interpretation of this character and his vision don't match up.
  
• I don't physically look like what he has in his mind.
  

These are both very valid, and totally understandable reasons . . . but it doesn't make me feel any less sad. It's frustrating to hear "the director didn't respond to you," because it's so nebulous. It's like being told, "You're not getting this job. Why? Because. Next!" It also has a sort of negative feeling to it, doesn't it? It doesn't help that I have heard "the director didn't respond" without any real elaboration countless times in my career .

I was very happy with my audition. I wouldn't change a single thing about it. I know that I could have done a great job with this character, and I would have been really good in this movie.

Whle I didn't sit in my living room for days, not eating and agonizing over getting this part, I was genuinely excited about the opportunities it presented. Working with Will Smith and Alex Proyas, and getting to play a robot would have been awesome.

Thanks for all the support, everyone.

The journey continues . . .

Posted by Wil at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (184)

Spent the weekend playing front yard touch football and whiffle ball with the kids. Tried very hard to care about the Superbowl, but I just couldn't do it.

Played so much Vice City my thumbs hurt, and I dreamed that I was Tommy Vercetti last night. Very lucid, very strange.

Did lots of work in the garden -- it's been in the 80s here for over a week, so we decided to take advantage of the warm while we had the chance.

Wasted almost 18 hours trying to do several computer things. None of them work. Stupid computers.

Haven't heard anything about the auditions.

Posted by Wil at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (114)

Spent the weekend playing front yard touch football and whiffle ball with the kids. Tried very hard to care about the Superbowl, but I just couldn't do it.

Played so much Vice City my thumbs hurt, and I dreamed that I was Tommy Vercetti last night. Very lucid, very strange.

Did lots of work in the garden -- it's been in the 80s here for over a week, so we decided to take advantage of the warm while we had the chance.

Wasted almost 18 hours trying to do several computer things. None of them work. Stupid computers.

Haven't heard anything about the auditions.

Posted by Wil at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (114)

Spent the weekend playing front yard touch football and whiffle ball with the kids. Tried very hard to care about the Superbowl, but I just couldn't do it.

Played so much Vice City my thumbs hurt, and I dreamed that I was Tommy Vercetti last night. Very lucid, very strange.

Did lots of work in the garden -- it's been in the 80s here for over a week, so we decided to take advantage of the warm while we had the chance.

Wasted almost 18 hours trying to do several computer things. None of them work. Stupid computers.

Haven't heard anything about the auditions.

Posted by Wil at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (114)

Here's a quick update on I, Robot:

They put about 100 actors on tape last week. 20 of those tapes were sent to the director, including mine. He will pick a few he likes, and have meetings with them this week or next.

Wish I had more info, but that's it. Strangely, I'm not sitting here, stomach in knots, agonizing over whether I'll get it or not. While I would love to work with Alex Proyas (I am a HUGE Dark City weenie) and play a robot, I don't have the life-or-death feeling that used to accompany auditions.

And as far as I know, they didn't see anyone from Jimmy Kimmel's family.

Posted by Wil at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (125)

Here's a quick update on I, Robot:

They put about 100 actors on tape last week. 20 of those tapes were sent to the director, including mine. He will pick a few he likes, and have meetings with them this week or next.

Wish I had more info, but that's it. Strangely, I'm not sitting here, stomach in knots, agonizing over whether I'll get it or not. While I would love to work with Alex Proyas (I am a HUGE Dark City weenie) and play a robot, I don't have the life-or-death feeling that used to accompany auditions.

And as far as I know, they didn't see anyone from Jimmy Kimmel's family.

Posted by Wil at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (125)

Here's a quick update on I, Robot:

They put about 100 actors on tape last week. 20 of those tapes were sent to the director, including mine. He will pick a few he likes, and have meetings with them this week or next.

Wish I had more info, but that's it. Strangely, I'm not sitting here, stomach in knots, agonizing over whether I'll get it or not. While I would love to work with Alex Proyas (I am a HUGE Dark City weenie) and play a robot, I don't have the life-or-death feeling that used to accompany auditions.

And as far as I know, they didn't see anyone from Jimmy Kimmel's family.

Posted by Wil at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (125)

Over at boingboing there is a link about Coppola filming an adaptation of "On The Road."

This project has been around for almost ten years. The first time around, sometime in 1992 or so, I auditioned to play Neil Cassidy. I read a scene straight out of Dharma Bums.

I was already familiar with most of the Beat Generation, and was a huge fan of Burroughs, but I'd never read Kerouac.

I furiously read "On the Road," and skimmed through "Dharma Bums." I wanted to have a good sense of his style, so I could bring his character to life faithfully.

I was already a jazz geek, but I took the opportunity to fill several gaps in my collection, so I could listen to Charlie Parker and Chet Baker while I learned my scenes.

I worked with a coach to develop body language, and dialect. I bought clothes from a thrift shop and went through lots of different hairstyles until I got the correct look.

A little over a week later the audition came. I drove myself to this old church on Highland where they have auditions from time to time, listening to Bird the whole way. I walked into a large empty courtyard, filled with fountains, birds, and a beautiful garden. Only the sign-in sheet betrayed the presence of Hollywood. I sat down, focused and ready to go get this job.

While I was waiting, Emilio Estevez arrived.

Wow, I thought, I'm at the same audition as Emilio Estevez, and I'm about to meet the man who is responsible for The Godfather and Apocalypse Now!

I totally forgot why I was there, and became a drooling fan boy.

Emilio Estevez said hi to me, one professional to another, and I said, "Hey."

There was a pause, and I heard myself say, "I want to tell you how much I like your work. Repo Man is one of my favorite movies of all time, and Breakfast Club is a classic."

He went one better:"Wil, Stand By Me is a classic, and I love your work too. It's really nice to meet you."

I hadn't told him my name, yet.

The casting assistant came out, and looked at the two of us. Emilio was on the "A" list. I was on my way to the "C" list, having been off TNG for a few years. She said, "Emilio, would you like to come in now?"

He looked at her, and said, "Wil was here before me. It's his turn."

She told him that it wasn't a problem. They were ready for him.

"Well, if you're ready for me, you're ready for Wil, and he was here first." He crossed his legs, and looked at his script.

I was stunned. He didn't need to stand up for me, and it really didn't matter to me who went first, but I thanked him and went in.

The room was large and very dark. Like the rest of the church, it was mission-style, with high, open-beamed ceilings and terra cotta tiles on the floor. Coppola was sitting behind his massive beard, a flimsy card table between us.

I approached him, and extended my hand. He didn't take it, so I sat down.

"You don't mind if I film you, do you?" he asked rhetorically, showing a palm-sized video camera he was holding.

"No, of course not."

He asked me to slate my name, and begin the scene.

I did, and proceeded to give the worst audition of my life.

I'd forgotten why I was there, and was a drooling fan boy. I didn't want to read this scene, I just wanted to talk about Apocalypse Now, and Rumblefish. I wanted to ask him about Marlon Brando, Dennis Hopper, and James Caan.

All these thoughts flooded my head while I stumbled through the scene. My Inner Voice, that internal critic/director/coach that all actor's have, was screaming at me that I was doing horribly. I didn't listen, instead hearing Robert Duvall shout, "Charlie don't surf!" It screamed louder, telling me to stop and start over, but I was too busy watching John Cazale get on that boat, knowing that he was going to get whacked.

Then I was done, and Coppola was thanking me for coming in. We both knew that I'd blown it. We both knew that I'd wasted everyone's time. I walked out, head hung low.

I passed Emilio Estevez, who asked me how it went. I shrugged, and told him to break a leg.

I drove home in silence, Chet Baker wondering how deep is the ocean?

Posted by Wil at 04:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (145)

Over at boingboing there is a link about Coppola filming an adaptation of "On The Road."

This project has been around for almost ten years. The first time around, sometime in 1992 or so, I auditioned to play Neil Cassidy. I read a scene straight out of Dharma Bums.

I was already familiar with most of the Beat Generation, and was a huge fan of Burroughs, but I'd never read Kerouac.

I furiously read "On the Road," and skimmed through "Dharma Bums." I wanted to have a good sense of his style, so I could bring his character to life faithfully.

I was already a jazz geek, but I took the opportunity to fill several gaps in my collection, so I could listen to Charlie Parker and Chet Baker while I learned my scenes.

I worked with a coach to develop body language, and dialect. I bought clothes from a thrift shop and went through lots of different hairstyles until I got the correct look.

A little over a week later the audition came. I drove myself to this old church on Highland where they have auditions from time to time, listening to Bird the whole way. I walked into a large empty courtyard, filled with fountains, birds, and a beautiful garden. Only the sign-in sheet betrayed the presence of Hollywood. I sat down, focused and ready to go get this job.

While I was waiting, Emilio Estevez arrived.

Wow, I thought, I'm at the same audition as Emilio Estevez, and I'm about to meet the man who is responsible for The Godfather and Apocalypse Now!

I totally forgot why I was there, and became a drooling fan boy.

Emilio Estevez said hi to me, one professional to another, and I said, "Hey."

There was a pause, and I heard myself say, "I want to tell you how much I like your work. Repo Man is one of my favorite movies of all time, and Breakfast Club is a classic."

He went one better:"Wil, Stand By Me is a classic, and I love your work too. It's really nice to meet you."

I hadn't told him my name, yet.

The casting assistant came out, and looked at the two of us. Emilio was on the "A" list. I was on my way to the "C" list, having been off TNG for a few years. She said, "Emilio, would you like to come in now?"

He looked at her, and said, "Wil was here before me. It's his turn."

She told him that it wasn't a problem. They were ready for him.

"Well, if you're ready for me, you're ready for Wil, and he was here first." He crossed his legs, and looked at his script.

I was stunned. He didn't need to stand up for me, and it really didn't matter to me who went first, but I thanked him and went in.

The room was large and very dark. Like the rest of the church, it was mission-style, with high, open-beamed ceilings and terra cotta tiles on the floor. Coppola was sitting behind his massive beard, a flimsy card table between us.

I approached him, and extended my hand. He didn't take it, so I sat down.

"You don't mind if I film you, do you?" he asked rhetorically, showing a palm-sized video camera he was holding.

"No, of course not."

He asked me to slate my name, and begin the scene.

I did, and proceeded to give the worst audition of my life.

I'd forgotten why I was there, and was a drooling fan boy. I didn't want to read this scene, I just wanted to talk about Apocalypse Now, and Rumblefish. I wanted to ask him about Marlon Brando, Dennis Hopper, and James Caan.

All these thoughts flooded my head while I stumbled through the scene. My Inner Voice, that internal critic/director/coach that all actor's have, was screaming at me that I was doing horribly. I didn't listen, instead hearing Robert Duvall shout, "Charlie don't surf!" It screamed louder, telling me to stop and start over, but I was too busy watching John Cazale get on that boat, knowing that he was going to get whacked.

Then I was done, and Coppola was thanking me for coming in. We both knew that I'd blown it. We both knew that I'd wasted everyone's time. I walked out, head hung low.

I passed Emilio Estevez, who asked me how it went. I shrugged, and told him to break a leg.

I drove home in silence, Chet Baker wondering how deep is the ocean?

Posted by Wil at 04:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (145)

Over at boingboing there is a link about Coppola filming an adaptation of "On The Road."

This project has been around for almost ten years. The first time around, sometime in 1992 or so, I auditioned to play Neil Cassidy. I read a scene straight out of Dharma Bums.

I was already familiar with most of the Beat Generation, and was a huge fan of Burroughs, but I'd never read Kerouac.

I furiously read "On the Road," and skimmed through "Dharma Bums." I wanted to have a good sense of his style, so I could bring his character to life faithfully.

I was already a jazz geek, but I took the opportunity to fill several gaps in my collection, so I could listen to Charlie Parker and Chet Baker while I learned my scenes.

I worked with a coach to develop body language, and dialect. I bought clothes from a thrift shop and went through lots of different hairstyles until I got the correct look.

A little over a week later the audition came. I drove myself to this old church on Highland where they have auditions from time to time, listening to Bird the whole way. I walked into a large empty courtyard, filled with fountains, birds, and a beautiful garden. Only the sign-in sheet betrayed the presence of Hollywood. I sat down, focused and ready to go get this job.

While I was waiting, Emilio Estevez arrived.

Wow, I thought, I'm at the same audition as Emilio Estevez, and I'm about to meet the man who is responsible for The Godfather and Apocalypse Now!

I totally forgot why I was there, and b