I woke up in the middle of a dream this morning. Somewhere amidst the sound of my daughter knocking on my bedroom door with extreme urgency and the dog whining and nudging my hand to get me out of bed, I remember seeing a face in my dream that I haven’t seen in my dreams since I was in Junior High. I briefly exchanged assurances with my daughter about how I would give her a ride to school since she’d missed the bus and then I sat up and felt like smacking my forehead to see if that would cause brain function to restart.

For the love of God, why was I dreaming about Wil Wheaton?

I admit it, when I was my daughter’s age, and come to think of it… Wil Wheaton and I are about the same age, I had a huge crush on the guy. For this crush, the blame rests entirely upon my father.… [Read More]

Of Dark Alleys and Childhood Romance