to boldly go where no clown sweater has gone before

Greetings from Vancouver, where the local hockey club is still in the playoffs, and the sky above our heads is the color of television, tuned to a dead channel (in 1980).

I am having a wonderful time on Eureka, keeping notes in my notebook so that I can write about the experience of making these episodes when they finally air, sometime just before the heat death of the universe.

My brother told me that the Endeavour crew made their own Star Trek poster, which is probably the most bad ass space shuttle poster ever.

He also told me that he felt like I should be there with them, on account of me being in Star Trek, so he made me this:

I win at having the best brother in the world.