RoadBoot

I just put up a captioned gallery in place of the old photosets. There are 187 photos, in no categories. The gallery requires flash to view, so if you don’t have it you are out of luck.

Quite a few episodes and people are missing from the collection, and many of our adventures are not mentioned there. By way of excuse I can only say that there simply were things that we neglected to capture with stills. For instance we totally forgot to snap a picture of Slack, even though her interview was the longest of all.

Otherwise I hope you enjoy the slideshow.

Btw, L.Acid was quite liberal with the veracity of his comments. It would not be a stretch to say that at least half of the words in the gallery contain some element of falsehood. More than a few are bold-faced lies.

Through the glass doors and up the elevator. Push the button “2″. Doors open and we see…

Corrugated metal. It’s like being inside a giant refrigerator with a “Mainframe Entertainment” sign embedded into the wall. At the end of a short hall is a big glass wall with a big glass door. There are ReBoot icons stenciled (or ground, I can’t recall) across the middle of the whole thing, and beyond it we can see a reception area with a desk and a corporate-looking person talking on the telephone. The door, we come to find, is locked, so we wait to be admitted.

Finally the corporate-looking person notices us and lets us in. She cheerfully chats with us for a bit while subtly extracting information about who we are and what we are doing. After getting that straightened out she sits us down on some couches while we wait for her to prepare two Non-Disclosure Agreements.

In the corner is a life-size Mike The TV with a real television in his face. He’s playing the Mainframe Ent. promotion reel. Against the wall is a locked glass case containing show merchandise displayed like trophies. After a short wait our guide, Virgil, walks into the room. We all shake hands, sign our forms, get our escort badges dished out, and he takes us around the facility. (I am convinced that it must have been built with confusion in mind, as I got lost more than once in the twisty corrugated passages of that place.)

In large open bays row upon row of graphic designers sat hunched over large touchscreens. In a huge office in the corner of the building the CEO was completely suspended in telephone cords; as fast as his assistants could unwrap him he became entangled in more. But the deals were being made, and business was moving along. We met him for a few moments.

Hello, how are you, we are fine, we’ll let you get back to work now. Good luck with those telephone cords.

Way in the back, past the tech department and past the ANCIENT PAL-based video gear was a closet that held all the master tapes. The original ReBoot episodes were on these tapes, and on other tapes our guide, Virgil, said there were things that never made it to air. One of the tech guys plugged one of the tapes into the machine, and we saw on the monitor the suspended head of Bob, saying lines not heard in any episode.

All over the facility hung original concept artwork. Bad Bob and Megatruck, the original image of the Tor… CC and I spent some time looking at things which to us represented cherished moments in our childhood.

In a tiny little closet ReBoot merchandising that never made it to the shelves sat in cardboard boxes. Our guide, Virgil, showed us loads of weird stuff, including (don’t laugh) hexadecimal baby socks. There were backpacks, posters, watches, (no toothbrushes unfortunately), bedsheets, and strange articles of clothing not designed for human beings. There were board games and picture puzzles, VHS cassette tapes of the first four episodes in Spanish, in Japanese…. These things were brought out of storage, paraded before our eyes (and camera) and put away again.

The kitchen area, we were told, was built with Dot’s Diner in mind. We kinda saw it, in the color schemes, et cetera…. but not really. The coolest part of the whole tour came when our guide, Virgil, drew back a sequined curtain to reveal the embalmed body of Mark Ralston in a Megabyte-themed coffin.

Actually, I lied about that last part. Nugget Man is alive and well, shoveling up minerals in Nowhere Ontario.

The best part of the tour REALLY came when Virgil led us into a tiny glass elevator full of buttons, which covered the walls and ceiling. CC pushed the big red one, and we zoomed up and up and up, bursting through the roof and past the cumulii, soaring higher and higher into the clear air where a flock of birds, whistling cheerful death dirges as they floated through their native environment, snapped their delicate necks against our glass walls.

After a nice dinner and water-side interview with BlaqueWidowe we decided to drive around lost for awhile, until the MerBz overheated and I was forced to vent the radiator at a gas station, which resuted in a violent expulsion of green coolant all over downtown. Two gallons of antifreeze and a quart of oil later we were back on the road, with a new map and some directions.

We pulled into a parking space next to 2025 West Broadway, a three-story building situated across the street from a grocery store. Very homey. Very dark, since it was close to midnight. We strolled around a bit and peered in through the windows. MFE was upstairs, on the second and third floors. At one time, when they were huge, they had occupied the entire building.

We drove back downtown and secured the last room in the Vancouver Hotel. Checking my email I saw that I had been instructed to call our contact in the morning, but not before googling the news. We slept.

The news was pretty spectacular. Three hours before we awoke (no doubt due to time differences across the continent), Rainmaker told the press that they had agreed to purchase IDT Ent. Inc.’s stock in MFE. At the time of this writing the deal still has a weekend to go before closing, but as far as I understand it Rainmaker intends to acquire the rest of MFE later on this year, effectually merging the two companies.

Joxer was surprised when I mentioned the merger in an email, but that came later. Directly after calling MFE we threw our stuff in the car and hoofed it back uptown, parking in the grocery store lot. A few camera adustments, some quibling about tapes and batteries, a last check in the mirror….. lock the door.

We sauntered across the street in slow motion, turning out our toes at a 40 degree angle. Our shoulders were square and our arms were hanging naturally. You could have dropped a plumb line from our chests to our shoelaces. A passing bevy of schoolgirls sighed in unison, and several windows broke, while a flock of birds momentarily whistled our death dirge obscured the sun. A colorful hardhat came flipping up from an open manhole, as the baritone strains of a cheery work tune floated into the bright morning something something anything but air.

CC slapped me in the face. “Snap out of it!” he hissed. “You can’t do this to me now! I need you HERE!”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled. “…..where are we?”

He sighed. “The parking lot. Here carry the camera bag.”

I took the bag and looked across the street. 2025 West Broadway looked a lot bigger in the daytime. Turning back to the car I watched CC wrestle a fresh tape into the camera. Across the parking lot a bunch of schoolgirls were pointing and giggling, and there were some nasty birds up on a powerline shrilling out some avian funeral march.

“We got batteries?” I asked.

“I can’t find the third one” CC said, banging around in the back seat.

“Yeah, I we left it at Rebootmaster’s.”

“Oh.” He pulled out of the car. “Then I guess we’re all set.”

I locked the door, and together we waited at the corner for the light to change.

Joxer told us, over a beer, what went down with season four all those years ago. He told us how many episodes it was supposed to be, why it was cut back, why everything seemed rushed, why season three was so good, why they decided to kill Bob at the end of season two, why AndrAIa’s shirt changes sizes, why Bob destroys an ABC, and what color sprite blood is. Then he told us how season four finishes, after the hunt.

Any doubts I ever entertained about this trip, about why I went and did this crazy thing, were totally crushed by the knowledge of how it all ends. Everything has been vindicated.

After leaving the gravesight of Webrider in Montana we skipped across the border into the Canadian Rockies. Tiny, beautiful little towns filled wth friendly canadians and small mom-and-pop eateries rolled past as we ooh’d and awe’d our way across 250 kilometers of brisk mountain scenery. It was a refreshing change after the never-ending plains of Wyoming.

We slept in the car for four hours, then returned to the narrow roads that wound between the wooded hills. Slowly the provincial villages became larger, the trees thinned out, and soon we were passing small cities. The road itself broadened into a four-lane highway with an official sounding name as cars appeared beside us, speeding toward our mutual destination.

As we crested a hill Vancouver appeared on the horizon, shining in the golden aftenoon. Our Mecca, and Mainframe, was before us.

Colorado, halfway between Denver and Ft. Collins. It’s been a flurry of travel and interviews for CC and I as we race the clock to make up for lost time.

From Montreal we drove straight to Toronto, stopping in to see Al’s Waiter in Ottawa. AW made us grilled cheese sandwihes with onion powder. Four hours of sleep and it’s back on the road. The MerBz makes a funny noise.

Illum (that cad) didn’t return our phone calls, so we breezed through London seeing neither hide nor hair of the illusive Bavarian. May the roses forever bloom upon his cross.

Chicago was a mess. CC and I split up to do two interviews, he spent the day with H2OAngel while Dancor and I hoofed around downtown looking for a friendly tattoo parlor. Our business finished, Dancor left for work and we three leftovers had a nice dinner in a dutch restaurant. Back on the road.

Indiana was a blur, Kentucky…..ah Kentucky.

The F.I.T. welcomed us with arms WIDE open. Those of you who know her online know what she made us for lunch, and what terrors of the road she braved in order to find the ingredients and the local dragon’s lair Wally World. I took a lot of footage of the room. All in all we spent a solid four hours at her charming country home, and her mother even gifted us with a floor rug cleverly disguised as a set of checkers. We intend to use it.

Then two nights and a pleasant rest at CC’s Aunt Tomi’s bustling estate. As I told one of his cousins: “When Chris turned to me in the car and said ‘I think I have an aunt in Missouri, let me call my mom’ I never expected to receive such an intimate portrait of the entire Hicks clan!” The rolling wooded Missouri hills are beautiful after a rainstorm.

Time being what it was, and what is is, we had to cut some people. Mulmuff couldn’t make it when we were in town because it was her birthday, TBIRallySport was too far east for us to do it in a day, and we just flat out skipped Permanently Confused. Back on the road.

Kansas City and time for Jameson, who’s bedroom walls are papered with bishounen collages of her favourite bishy-boys (Ray can be found in the strangest places). That was our most efficient interview yet; we went in, got what we needed, and left. Two hours.

ReBootMaster’s time was the next day, and yesterday. Again we didn’t stop to chat much about life or real things, we just filmed and left. But RBM is a nice guy, as are his parents. You all knew that already, but I wanted to say it anyway. RBM is pretty cool. Back on the road.

We drove and drove and drove and fell asleep in a little motel near Ft. Collins, CO. And when we woke up I wrote this post. Now there is only one more stop between here and Mainframe. That fan’s time has already come and gone, but we will visit him nonetheless.

From Texas, we headed north-east to Georgia. Peter decided to drive as much of it as he could overnight. We left Houston, Texas and drove through Louisianna, Mississippi, and Alabama.

Once in Georgia, we started looking for the campsite Dot had thoughtfully scoped out for us beforehand. We ended up in an RV park, where we asked for directions. They gave us the directions. Once back on the highway, we realized it was really far, so we went back to the RV park and paid for a spot for our tents.

We relaxed for a few hours, and met up with her that night around 7pm. The meeting place was a local coffee shop called Hildegard’s. Coolest name ever.

The coffee shop itself was very nice. Pretty big and spatious, sofas and other comfy furniture all sitting around. Of course, what made the place even better was a girl sitting at a table reading, “Ishmael”.

It was Dot! We went over and said hi. I got a really nice hug, too! We sat down and talked for a bit, then went back over to the couches so that L.Acid could plug his laptop in. We talked a bit longer, but there was a very loud guitar singer in the shop doing his thing, so Dot and I went outside.

We sat down at a bench and talked at length about all sorts of things. Mostly revolving around the fandom. People we’d known, people we didn’t. After a while, we went in Dot’s car. Her wonderful, amazing car with the A/C. I hadn’t had cold air in weeks, it was really nice. We continued to talk in there.

We got so caught up that we lost track of time and realized we’d spent about two hours talking. We got out of the car and went to look for L.Acid. He wasn’t in the shop, but at his car, packing up. Apparently, he’d been looking for us at some point, but couldn’t find us. We felt bad.

We then hung around L.Acid’s car, talking about the fandom with his input. During this hour, we moved to the tables that were right there. From this spot, we witnessed two things. One, the giant cockroaches that seemed to out-number the human residents of the town. And two, a car chase! About 7-10 police cars were giving chase down the wrong side of a one-way street. After a mini-van. I kid you not, it was a red mini-van. And the cop cars kept coming, long after the van had passed.

L.Acid was exhausted after all the driving, so he took off for the campsite and some rest. Dot and I went to Denny’s, since I’d never been to one. It was alright. Pretty standard fast-food place. I got some breakfast stuff, Dot got some breadsticks, and we talked about our personal lives. It was a lot of fun.

We were tired, so we decided to head home. Dot was the one driving me back, as L.Acid had taken his car. Try as we might, we couldn’t find the campsite. Dot was using her directions, yet nothing seemed familiar. We even stopped to ask people about it, nothing.

This was at around 2 am. Three hours later, we realize something. Dot had driven us about thirty minutes away from her town, because she thought we were at the campsite she had suggested we go to. Being night and tired, I hadn’t made the connection the long transit time meant we were in a different area. From there, it was a simple matter of getting back into town. We found it in about twenty minutes once we got back. And you know what? It was literally five minutes from the Denny’s.

I’ll tell you what, though. Exhausted trips to Walmart and spending ridiculous amounts of time in a car with Dot were honestly, quite awesome. I mean, there was the whole, “OHNOES NO CAMPSITE”, thing. But still. We really did have a fun time. One of those times you laugh at after the fact.

The next day (or later that day, depending on how you look at it), we met up again. Dot had a birthday present for me. She gave me driving lessons in her car! We went down to her old HS’s parking lot, and I got behind the wheel. It was kind of scary, but a lot easier than I thought it would be. And I have to admit, seeing Dot half-freak out was kind of funny, too. Even if I was freaking out at the same time. Her gas peddle is really sensitive, it’s not my fault! Also, I hit L.Acid with the car. Sort of. I don’t know how I did it, since the car wasn’t moving at that point.

After that, we headed over to Dot’s college. L.Acid found a wireless connection in the library and voted to stay there, so Dot and I went on a grand tour of her campus. It’s a really pretty college, no matter what Dot says. The science building is all New Age and weird, but her English building was very nice! All elegant and reminiscent of cathedral architecture. It was cool to see where Dot spends most of her time during the school year. Hear some interesting stories.

We had to take off, then, as we had a meet up to attend. Slack was on the list and we weren’t going to miss her. We said our goodbyes, and I got another hug from Dot. I really do hope I can get down to Georgia again, at some point. She is one of the nicest people I have ever met. And what a sense of humour! Ebil, oh yes.

Also, we went to Walmart before we got lost. I can’t remember if it was before or after Denny’s, but I think it was before. We went there intending to go Mullet Hunting. Apparently, all the mulletees were in bed, preparing for fishing or some such. We had a good time, anyway. We played UFO frisbee and contemplated the deeper meanings of the chair that looked like a toilet. We agreed to never speak of the shelf we broke in Bedding, ever again.

It’d be hard to explain all we did there, so I will simply leave you with some memorable quotes.

Dot: “This blanket is so soft, it must be… Camel.”

Dot: “Fish like body glitter!”

CC: *puts back a lunch box. The entire shelf of lunch boxes falls down.*

The Catskills were gorgeous.

“Bonjour, Hi,” said the pretty border guard, smiling.
“Hi there” I said, smiling back.
She frowned. “Are you american?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Is that a problem?”
She snorted and entered some data into her computer, typing fast and efficiently.
“Enjoy your stay, but don’t stay too long, Yank. Welcome to Canada.”

Note:I invented most of that exchange.

Where did I leave us? I think it was in NYC. That was a week ago.

So, a week ago (on the 5th of July) CC and I arose at the crack of dawn to hunt our breakfast. We girded ourselves with loincloths made from the trophies of our conquests and set out amidst the chill morning air, stalking our prey with the intelligence of beasts that haven’t been cruelly uprooted from their natural environment by greedy capitalists and transplanted into artificial ecologies where they whither and die, pining forever for one last taste of free air.

Rather, I did all that because CC was a little late getting out of the hotel room. He took the subway from Times Square (where the hotel was) to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I trudged eight blocks down 42nd street to the parking garage (OUTRAGEOUS PRICES! IMPRESS YOUR FRIENDS!) and drove to the MMoA. 50 minutes to drive 39 blocks. I haven’t experienced anything like that since I was in Europe. Nerves of steel, my friends, shot all to bits.

The Met was ths big impressive rock building hanging out on the edge of Central Park. I guessed there were all sorts of art and crap chilling out in the air-conditioned interior (it being a museum and stuff), and I saw some of it when I went in to use the bathroom. Yup, pretty cool, although they put the bathrooms in the darndest places, with hard to read signs pointing all sorts of directions. But being an intelligent young man (I’m very smart) with superb speling skills I managed to figure out that the “Bath Exhibit” was exactly that, and ignored whatever it was that the guard was yelling at me while I used that fancy urinal with the shiny brass birdies in it.

After 45 minutes of sitting on the steps we figured out that Cyrion was waiting for us inside the doors. About that same time GlitchBob showed up, so we four all shook hands and sat down on some nearby benches to partake of the afternoon’s REAL business: the cannoli pie that Cyrion brought us.

Ah, the breakfast of champions. Cannoli is as good as Cy always claimed it was. And a little more as well, for we had worked up a mighty appetite stalking our famed prey in our special loincloths. Hunger, the sauce of the poor, makes even the simplest fare fit for princes, and makes cannoli fit for kings.

After some pleasant food and conversation CC went with Cy to ganderize the Museum while GB and I did the interview in Central Park. That being finished, and Cyrion having departed for home, CC and I stuffed GB into the Merbz and drove him to his sweet pad, where he lives with his mother and several magnitudes of cat.

There was more about the trip, several stories about neat little Italian restaurants in the Bronx, and drunk guys in motel parking lots enthralling us with his witty/sentimental/verge-of-violent banter, but the story ends Thursday morning with CC and myself driving for an hour around a NYC suburb looking for GB’s sweet pad, where he (as I mentioned before) lives with his mother and several magnitudes of cat.

I got frustrated, saw a road I knew, and drove toward the Catskills.

Goodbye NYC.