Dancing Barefoot Read Online Free PDF

orbit, and lay in a course for the Ramatis system, warp 6”
     He said.
    â€œAye sir,” my fingers danced over the CONN. “Course laid in, sir.”
    â€œMake it so, Mister Crusher.”
    The camera creaked back on the dolly track, as the Enterprise D went
     to warp speed.
    â€œCut! Great! New deal!” the director said.
    â€œWrong set! We are moving to the Observation lounge for scene 55!” said the 1st AD, “The
     actors can relax for about 10 minutes.”
    On my way back to my trailer, the DGA trainee stopped me. “Gene Roddenberry would like you
     to call his office, Wil.”
    â€œOkay.”
    I changed direction, and walked to the stage phone. My heart began to beat hard in my
     chest. Had Gene heard too? WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER had known Gene for over 20 years . . . if
     Gene knew that I’d upset him, maybe Gene would be upset at me, too!
    I passed the craft service table, setup behind the starfield that hung next to the
     Ten-Forward set. Michael Dorn and Jonathan Frakes were pouring cups of coffee.
    â€œTo hell with him, W,” Jonathan said. I love it when he calls me “W.”
    â€œTo hell with who?” Michael asked.
    â€œShatner shit all over Teen Idol,” Jonathan told him.
    Beneath his latex Klingon forehead, Michael rolled his eyes. “You want me to kick his ass,
     Wil?”
    â€œNo, that’s okay. Thanks, though.” I said.
    â€œI’ve got your back, man,” Michael said.
    I dialed Gene’s office, and told his secretary that I was returning Gene’s call.
    â€œHe’s expecting your call. Just a second, Wil.” There were two clicks, and Gene’s soft,
     gentle, friendly voice was in my ear.
    â€œHi Wil, how are you?”
    â€œI’m okay. How are you?”
    â€œFine, fine. I understand that you had some words with Bill Shatner today.”
    Oh my god. Was he going to be mad at me?
    â€œUh . . . yeah . . .” I said.
    â€œWil, Bill Shatner is an ass, don’t you worry about him, okay? I am proud to have you on
     my show. Don’t you ever forget that.”
    Did Gene just call WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER an ass? And then he said that he was proud of
     me?
    â€œGosh, Gene, thanks,” was the best I could do.
    â€œCome by my office soon, okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œSee you then.” He hung up.
    I began to feel better. Although a childhood hero had kicked me in the nuts, a bunch of
     people who I cared about and respected had all made efforts to put it in perspective. I felt
     loved, and protected.
    The next day, when I got to work, there was an envelope on my dressing room table. It was
     addressed “To Master Wil Wheaton” and was “From the Office of William Shatner.”
    I dropped my backpack, and tore it open.
    Inside, there was a single three by eight note card. The Paramount Pictures logo was
     stamped into the top in blue, and “William Shatner” was stamped into the bottom in
     gold.
    There was a message typed on the card, which said,
Dear Wil,

You are a fine young actor, and I would be
honored to have you on my bridge any day.

Sincerely yours,
Bill
    He’d signed it in ink. Blue ink. My mouth hung open, and my hands trembled a bit. I held
     it up to the light, to make sure it was real. The phone rang.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œWil? It’s Gene,” I recognized his voice immediately.
    â€œGood morning Gene,” I said.
    â€œI spoke with Bill Shatner yesterday, and he should be dropping a note off for you
     today.”
    â€œIt’s already here,” I said. I read it to him.
    â€œGood. You are a fine young actor,” he said. “See you later.”
    I couldn’t believe it. Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek and The Great Bird of the
     Galaxy, had called WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER, Captain James T. Kirk and director of Star Trek V , and asked him to apologize to me, Wil Wheaton, 16 year-old
     acting ensign and