Just a Geek (26 page)

Though I tried to take a philosophical view of things, I was crushed, if you'll pardon the pun. I was more upset about being told that I "wasn't part of the family" than I was about being cut from
Nemesis
. Didn't Creation know that the Prodigal Son had returned? The feeling I'd endured so many times as an actor—the rejection and futility of even trying—slammed itself into my soul. Unlike a film role, this had nothing to do with my performance, or the way I looked, or nepotism. This was personal. It was directed squarely at me, and the pain of the rejection knocked me right off my feet.

My post was linked and reprinted on several
Star Trek
fan sites, newsgroups, and mailing lists. The comments and e-mails came, and they were furious! Most of them directed their ire at Creation, but some of them saw through my attempts at keeping my chin up and called me on it. I was hurt. I didn't want to step out of that safety bubble. I didn't want to enter a Brave New World. I wanted to walk back into the old safe world and view it with fresh eyes, without taking a single moment for granted, just like when I worked on
Nemesis
. I wanted to stand up there, and say "Thank you,
Star Trek
, for everything you've done for me. I'm glad we're cool again."
Star Trek
was a huge part of my life, and I'd wasted 10 years hating it. Now that I was finally able to appreciate it and had a chance to
enjoy myself
at a convention, it had been ripped away from me.

I never thought that it would be given back.

^[
14
^]
Since I originally blogged this, Slanted Fedora's reputation has been tarnished by cancelled events, bounced checks, and poor fan relations. I've never had any problems with Dave or his company, but I've run into several fans who are pretty upset with him, and I know a few
Star Trek
actors who won't work with him.

31 AUGUST 2002

Schism

"Individually we can get angry. Together we can and will, make a difference."

I wrote those words recently, hoping to rally and inspire people to action.

I was talking about the rapid erosion of our free speech and parody rights on the Internet, but that phrase applies to any movement, really.

One voice is easily ignored or silenced, but when other people add their voices to yours, you become a chorus not easily ignored.

It turns out that a lot of people got angry that I wouldn't be attending the 15th anniversary of
TNG
celebration next month. It turns out that those voices joined together in e-mails, phone calls, Internet postings, and faxes. It turns out that those voices became a chorus not easily ignored.

Thursday afternoon, I had a message on my machine from Adam Malin, president of Creation. He told me that he'd been "flooded" with e-mails, phone calls and faxes. He said he'd read the Internet postings, and he wanted to talk with me. He told me that he felt terrible, sick and was very upset that I felt the way that I did. He was apologetic and hoped I'd call him back so we could speak directly and, if nothing else, clear the air.

When I set the phone down in its cradle, I was surprised to feel my hands shaking.

I was, quite honestly, stunned. Shocked. A phone call from a lawyer I would have expected. An angry phone call, maybe, given the rage people were expressing on message boards at my own site and elsewhere. But a personal, cordial, apologetic call? I just didn't think it would happen.

I didn't have a chance to call him back until yesterday.

So lunch comes and I phoned him.

I apologized for not calling him back right away. Before I can say anything, he apologizes again for not talking to me directly and letting his underlings deal with me instead.

He tells me that he has never thought of me as "not part of the family."

I tell him that I have been given the impression from everyone at Creation, even the people with whom I am friends, that there are "levels," and it (rightly) goes: Captains, Data, everyone else . . . then there was me.

I tell him that I've felt marginalized and treated like my contributions to
Trek
weren't important to him, Creation, the fans, or Paramount.

He apologizes again, tells me again that he doesn't feel that way. Tells me that he wanted to make it right. He wants to have me at that convention.

I am stricken by how genuine he seems. I am beginning to feel bad for not going over the heads of his employees and speaking directly to him, myself.

I also notice something that is a new feeling to me, as far as
Star Trek
goes: I'm being treated like an adult. Treated with respect, spoken to forthrightly and candidly.

This may seem like an overstatement of the glaringly obvious, but even though I am 30 years old, I still feel like I'm "the kid" where
Trek
is concerned. Not feeling that way is something new to me and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

Adam tells me that he has heard great things about my sketch group. He's heard that they are fabulous and the fans really love the show we do. He tells me that he wants to hire them for the show, wants me to speak at the show and he really wants to make it work out.

I tell him that there isn't time to get the group together now and produce a quality show. He is really upset about that. He asks me if I'd be willing to get my group together for Grand Slam 2003.

I notice that we're having a cordial, comfortable conversation. It's like we've both been stung. Me by the posture taken during the previous negotiation and him by the vitriolic rebuke from the fans. He seems to genuinely feel bad that my feelings were so hurt and I get the palpable impression that he wants to make things right.

He asks me again if I'd be willing to do the show for a very reasonable fee, just a little bit below what I was asking for before negotiations broke down last month.

I am immediately torn.

I think about this thing that someone said in the comments yesterday: "If you turn your back on
Trek
one more time, I'm buying you a revolving door."

I think hard about that. It burns inside me.

I don't know what to do.

On the one hand, I want
Trek
behind me.

On the other hand, it will never be behind me no matter what, because, let's face it:
Trek
was and is HUGE. Bigger than me. Bigger than I will ever be in my (stalled and slowing) acting career.

After I'd gotten the first phone call from Adam, I talked it over with fellow EarnestBorg9
^[
15
^]
member Travis who is a very good friend of mine. Knows me very, very well.

Told him I'm having mixed feelings about it. I can think of reasons to do the show and reasons to not do the show.

He asked me why I didn't want to do it.

I gave him some reasons, pro and con.

He asked me if I was happy writing.

I told him I was.

He asked me if I liked being on stage.

I told him that I did.

He asked me why I could possibly not want to be on stage in front of people who want to like me and read my work to them. He reminded me of the sketch shows we've done together at conventions and how we have always felt great afterward.

He asks me again why I can't embrace
Star Trek
as something wonderful that I was part of and at the same time continue to move forward as an actor and writer.

I couldn't answer him.

Pride? Fear?

I don't fucking know.

The people on the Net have rallied around me about this. The fans have raged at Creation and Creation listened.

But there's that revolving door. I'm stuck in it, big time.

I think of this e-mail I got where a guy said he felt like I was trying to convince myself that it is okay to be booted from
Star Trek
things. He's right.

I think of a comment where a guy criticizes me for being so angst-ridden about
Star Trek
, accuses me of being full of shit, and says he can see right through me.

He has a point too. I meant what I said about being cut from the film. But having the safety bubble burst? Well, I'm still standing in its remains, hoping I can find a way to refill it, just in case. Setting Wesley free, embracing a sense of freedom? I meant that, as well.

I feel like I have grown older and changed. But I feel unfulfilled, unsure and I know that the last few months of entries here have focused on that. Maybe I'm giving way too much weight to the comment of one random person who didn't even have the courage to put an e-mail address with the anonymous comment. For all I know I could be biting on the biggest troll ever.

But there is truth to what that anonymous poster said. I'm torn. I am caught in a revolving door and I don't know what will happen and I am filled with angst and that feeling is burning inside of me, keeping me awake at night, distracting me every minute of every day. It's burning in me so fiercely, so hot and insistent, that I have lost perspective. I can't make objective decisions and weigh the pros and cons effectively.

So I seek counsel from some very good friends of mine. Some people who I really trust and respect. I write to them what I've written above, with the following pros and cons:

Pros:

• Fans will be ecstatic that Creation listened, that the fans fought for me and won.
  

• Fans will be happy to see me in person.
  

• I'll earn money for my family and be able to perform what I love to do for an audience who
  FINALLY
  wants to like me.
  

Cons:

• That revolving door feeling and the fear of a massive backlash from . . . well, I'm not sure who, but backlash nevertheless.
  

It seems pretty slam-dunk, right? I should do the show and feel great about it. But it's not that easy for me. I am extremely conflicted, until I get the following responses:

This could not be easier, but that's really because I'm not you
.

You think you'd be compromising or something if you went and changed your mind and went back to the show
.

I don't. You're going to enjoy it. People like you
.

You looked in the face of a thousand-million Internetters and said, "Hey, I'm a fucking human like you, I've been a dick, it's not right, this is what I did and this is what I think now. Sorry; won't happen again."

People like you, man. In fact, you're probably not even capitalizing off of all the Internet Momentum? you've gained in the past year. Shit, Wil, people all over the place NOW LIKE YOU. Let's face it, you've only gotten limited access to those auditions, but how many magazines, newspapers, tv shows, etc. have you been on because you're a fucking computer geek-boy now? You want my point-blank, in-your-fucking-face opinion right now?

Go there in a big fucking "in your face, but I'm still just lil ol' Wil" way. Have the fucking time of your life—do it FOR YOU, not for the fans. These people want to see you—and even if they say something negative, just laugh it off like water on a duck and say, "Cool, but you know, you really don't know me" and know that you've won in that statement alone
.

Another friend said:

Whatever you decide, right now, it's gotta be for you and not because X amount of people will judge you for doing it or not doing it
.

If you feel it's right for you and will benefit your family and your writing and gain some recognition for you and you'll get to see some old Trek
buddies again and that's what you want, then you gotta do that thing
.

But don't do it if you now feel pressured by the fans to do it
.

And don't NOT do it because you're afraid of what the fans will think
.

Whatever you do, do it because you, you personally need to
.

Because I think there comes a point where you have to acknowledge that This Thing You Did Back When is a part of you that's always going to be there. It's like Sue Olson (the actress who played Cindy Brady) once said—you have to accept that people will always think of you as that character, because only then can you really move on
.

Once you accept that, the audience accepts you . . . and paradoxically, on your own terms
.

See, this whole Turn Your Back On
Trek
thing, if you let that get to you . . . how do I put this?

If you don't do it because you have to Turn Your Back On
Trek,
well, then you're not really turning your back on
Trek—
you're still letting the
Trek
thing dictate what you do
.

And, while we're putting our cards on the table, here, I think that you shouldn't look at not turning your back on
Trek
and finding your own voice as being mutually exclusive. As a former convention-goer, the
Trek
(or otherwise) speakers who I thought were the coolest were the ones who accepted that
Trek
was the reason they were there and why we were there, as opposed to the guys who seemed weirded out or perplexed that anyone gave a shit
.

Not that you'd be that way—I'm talking about an initial attitude going in, not the handling of the experience from that point on
.

As far as you feeling that you're reneging on what you said in your post . . . and here's some perspective:

The situation is different now.

It's not that they called you, snubbed you and you're going back anyway to eat shit for the peanuts
.

It's that they contacted you, snubbed you initially, then realized they misjudged your appeal (and ability to bring in a LOT of new people) and finally were willing to meet you on terms you could accept
.