This past year at the New York Comic Con, we got invited to go hang out with the Robot Chicken gang. Peter had met them out at Wizard World LA and they remembered him rather fondly. So we went to a bar that had ping-pong tables you could rent to play a couple of games while you drank. They also had pool and darts. Seth was playing against one of his New York buddies. I was sitting next to Matthew, Seth’s co-creator for Robot Chicken. We were talking about this and that while watching the game. Peter had gone to brave the bar line to get us some drinks. Matt looks behind Seth and says “Uh-oh, we just got made.” I look the direction he is looking and see a group of young women who are whispering and trying not to be obvious about which way they are looking.
One of the guys playing pool at the table next to us comes down to our end to talk to his buddy he had been playing again and I overhear him say to his friend, “Is that Scott Evil?” His friend laughs and says, “No way.” And goes back to his game.
Matt gets up and moves over to Seth’s end of the ping pong table as do a couple of Seth’s buddies. Seth stops his game and takes pictures with the girls who have now sidled over and one of them was brave enough to ask if she could have a picture taken with him. Peter had gotten back with the drinks. One of the guys who had been playing pool said to Peter with a laugh, “They think he is Seth Green.”
Peter said, “He gets that a lot. Frankly, I don’t see the resemblance.”
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We were at Toronto Canada at Canada Fan Expo this past August. Peter was at his table signing for a bunch of people. He asked me to go see Henry Winkler and deliver something to him. I had met Henry last year at another convention but I honestly didn’t expect him to remember me. Ariel and I went over to where Henry was signing. He was standing in front of his table talking to someone. He saw us waved and motioned us over to him. We went over and he gave us both big bear hugs and asked after Caroline. We chatted for a few minutes. I told him that besides both being dyslexic, we had gone to the Yale School of Drama. He and I high fived. We finished up our business and Ariel and I turn to leave where I see for the first time the line that is waiting to get his autograph. They were staring at us trying to figure out who we were.
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Peter and I went to see a Broadway play called “Six dance lessons in Six weeks” because Peter’s friend Mark was in it. Afterwards we went up to Mark’s dressing room and chatted with him a bit. We caught up on the kids and other things. On the way out of the theater, Mark stopped to sign programs and Star Wars memorabilia all the time talking with Peter about various things. I stood back and watched the crowd try to figure out who the heck we were. I hear off to one side a male voice say, “I know who that is! It’s Peter David the writer.”
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That feeling of people staring at me and trying to parse who I am has now become pretty familiar. I have to admit at first I was a little uncomfortable with it but now it is just part of my life. I have even gotten to the point where I have to say that I get a little giggly as people try to figure out who I am and where I fit into the picture.
When some people do figure out who I am in connection with Peter David, they are concerned that I am going to be disappointed or angry that they admire what my husband has done over the years. I don’t. I think what my husband does and who he knows is pretty doggone cool. And I am comfortable enough with myself and who I am, that I really don’t mind being that person that has people scratching their heads trying to figure out my identity.
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