I just started a new hashtag on Twitter: #NewMediaEmpires. Apparently it’s something much on my mind.
A couple weeks ago I had a dream that I was at a party–some Comic-Con social thing straight out of that last season of The Guild–when Felicia Day came up to me at the bar. She was the party’s glittering hostess, and for whatever reason, she really wanted me to dance with her.
I turned her down and (since this was my dream) she was pretty devastated. As a consolation, I invited her to sit with me and compare notes on our New Media empires. She settled for that, and we had a delightful conversation into the wee hours.
Then last night–just now, really–I dreamed that I ran into Jim Gaffigan in the parking lot of an Olive Garden. I heard someone mention that he was there, and I went searching for him like some kind of crazed fan. But as soon as I found him, he cocked his head and said, “Hey, aren’t you that Aaron guy?”
We settled into a pleasant conversation about our New Media empires. As we went, Nathan Fillion wandered up (clearly there at Olive Garden with Jim Gaffigan), and I started suggesting to Jim in some not-so-subtle ways that he needed to introduce us. Jim played dumb, as though he couldn’t understand why I might want to know Nathan.
“I’m just saying,” I told the comic, “If you knew anyone who was interested in working on some New Media projects, it could be fun. Especially somebody plugged into the geek community. Somebody interested in science fiction. Somebody funny and serious and cool. Maybe…I dunno…somebody who knows Felicia Day?”
The whole time (since this was my dream), Nathan Fillion was bouncing on his toes, waiting excitedly for Jim Gaffigan to introduce us.
Sometime later, we three were gathered around an Endless Salad Bowl, munching on breadsticks and discussing our empires. Nathan asked me about my goals. I shrugged and said, “Oh, you know. Standard rich-and-famous contract.”
Jim looked surprised (and a little offended). Nathan said (in a fatherly kind of way), “You can’t just be in the business to get rich and famous.”
I shook my head. “I want to be rich so I can pursue my projects without regard to profitability. I want to be famous so I can have a voice in this rapidly-changing world. I want to make better things, and I want to make things better.”
And (since this was my dream), they were startled by my brilliance and burst into spontaneous applause.
I have no reason to suspect Jim and Nathan know each other, or that either of them eats at Olive Garden (and certainly no reason to think Felicia would ask me to dance). I’m also well aware that hearing about other people’s dreams can be devastatingly boring. Still, it gives you a bit of an idea where my head’s at.
Standard rich-and-famous contract, please!