When Pee-Wee and Joe saw the breadth of their diorama, they wept, for there were too many worlds left to conquer.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: the recurring feature that’s me jotting down capsule-sized notes about Stuff I’ve Been Watching at home. Some of this is catch-up that missed the cut last time due to memory loss, so consider this a handy wrap-up of 2016 home viewing to date. I think. More or less. Not counting Netflix series, anyway.
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
The east side of the Natural History Museum faces Central Park, one of the larger stops on our brainstorming list. This felt convenient enough that we sashayed on in to see what we could see before we succumbed to the summer heat.
For fifteen years my mom and I worked at the same company in different departments. She retired May 31st after nearly fifty years in the rat race. This was the gift basket her coworkers assembled to help kick off her next era and keep her busy with creature comforts for the short term till she gets settled into a new daily groove. At least one of these items is outside her bailiwick, but such special occasions aren’t the right moment for nitpicking. I appreciate that they took to heart most of the ideas I gave them. Maybe she’ll surprise me and give those untested things a try. Or maybe she’ll hang on to them till Christmas and then hand them off to me or my wife. Whatever works for her.
Unda da sea! Unda da sea! Pretty you betcha, until they getcha! You’d betta flee!
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
The B train carried us from Rockefeller Center underground up north to the American Museum of Natural History. Our primary motive wasn’t to search for correlations between the real museum and its counterpart in Night at the Museum. We’ve previously visited the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History in Washington DC in 2003 and Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History in 2009. Checking out NYC’s own Natural History museum seemed a logical step to continue that tradition.
Right this way for mandatory fossil pics, plus my weight on a comet!
Maybe not really. Anne and I do have our sing-a-long moments, whether we’re busting out hymns in the same church service or indulging secret nostalgia on road trips passing through towns where ’80s Top-40 still lives, which describes nearly every small town today outside Footlooseburg. I’m not convinced we could carry our own Broadway show, off-Broadway vanity production, or community performance-art stunt, but if we tried, it would look like this except you could see our jazz hands better on stage. Also, it might be nice if we found a talented stylist to hide all that stately gray that’s overtaking my beard. Nagging aging defects like that can lead to bouts of vain grumpiness and haunting incidents like the time we went to a Red Lobster and the waitress asked me non-jokingly if my daughter would like a children’s menu. True, unfair story.
Right this way for a quick note on another MCC blogging milestone!
Tourist Anne can tourist like no tourist ever touristed before. I love you, Tourist Anne!
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
“See the Empire State Building!” all the travel guides say. “Ride to the top of the Empire State Building!” they say. “The Empire State Building was in good movies! See NYC from the Empire State Building! Empty your wallet inside Empire State Building!” Getting a scenic view of Manhattan is a must, but the Empire State Building isn’t the only skyscraper in town. And what luck that we had one next door with public elevator access…for a price.
For Your Film Award Consideration. Like, all of them, because we have a dream.
Normally I wouldn’t review a film till after I’ve seen it, but I get the impression from some corners of the internet that cause-and-effect are now passĂ© and prejudging is all the rage with the poorly parented kids these days. I’ve been watching the ongoing Ghostbusters debates for months from the sidelines, but the following tweet kind of broke me Monday evening:
https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/745014178914566144
I can’t figure out which shopping site he was browsing, but honestly, that’s how we’re playing armchair critic, guys? By shooting things down that make us frown without even trying them? With attitudes like that, I’m guessing none of those faux advance reviewers ever gave vegetables a chance, either.
Hi, geese. Call me gander. Let’s go ahead and review Ghostbusters like it’s the greatest thing in the galaxy, 100% sight unseen, three weeks before it opens. Free country! Free speech! Free boorishness! Free self-immolation!
Right this way for a heavy-duty shot of positivity adrenaline for Generation Shouty!
“America’s Most Trusted Newsman” are four words that appear nowhere in this chapter.
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
Once we’d had our fill of the Today set, many of the remaining minutes before our 9:45 appointment were wasted on scrounging up a meal for my son, who hates breakfast food and had refused any solids at the Bouchon Bakery because his appetite never awakens till an hour or two after he does. Some tunneling through the underground Rockefeller Center shops brought us to an everyday Subway franchise, thankfully willing and equipped to serve lunch before 10 a.m. While we strode back to where we needed to be, he did his best to cram an entire five-five-dollar-five-dollar-footlong chicken teriyaki sub into his gullet as quickly as possible without choking.
He had only a few bites left of his special-needs meal when we arrived at the NBC Studios Store to kick off our official NBC Studios tour.
Right this way for the no-photos tour, a never-before-shared video, and then a few photos!
Hey, guys! I met a YouTube star! From a channel I actually watch! That means I’m relevant now! AMERICA, LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEE
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
This weekend Indy PopCon returned to the Indiana Convention Center for their the third annual gala of YouTube, gaming, podcasting, comics, voice actors, animation, and various other manifestations of pop and geek culture in general. My wife and I still regard 2014’s inaugural Indy PopCon as one of the best convention experiences we’ve ever had, but got a little lost when 2015’s event shifted focus toward luring in droves of younger fans. This time we were in the house Saturday for just a half-day with a short itinerary and muted expectations, but were happy to find ourselves another round of wacky fun.
We arrived at the Convention Center a little after 9:30 and left at 2:20. In between, we found quite a bit to do, a few interesting people to meet from the world of comics, and a few familiar faces from previous cons…
Wanda and Cosmo, the Fairly OddParents! Stars of one of the last Nickelodeon shows my son ever watched before he aged out of it. Other than SpongeBob, I have no idea who their popular mascots are today.
This weekend Indy PopCon returned to the Indiana Convention Center for their the third annual gala of YouTube, gaming, podcasting, comics, voice actors, animation, and various other manifestations of pop and geek culture in general. My wife and I still regard 2014’s inaugural Indy PopCon as one of the best convention experiences we’ve ever had, but got a little lost when 2015’s event shifted focus toward luring in droves of younger fans. This time we were in the house Saturday for just a half-day with a short itinerary and muted expectations, but were happy to find ourselves another round of wacky fun.
As always we took photos for You, the Viewers at Home, over half of which were costumes. From the start Indy PopCon has attracted quite a creative crowd of cosplayers at every level, from the monetized pro circuit to the costume-contest hopefuls to the sincerest fans of varying means to literally a guy wearing an outfit made of Amazon boxes. At the crossroads of imagination, resourcefulness, determination, and fandom lies…Indy PopCon.
Right this way for a modest selection of costumes, not all of which are Deadpool variants!
In the land of the super, it’s the super-duper who rule.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: June 10th and 11th, my wife Anne and I attended the 38th annual Superman Celebration in the city of Metropolis, Illinois. Other chapters in this special miniseries:
* Part One: Supergirl‘s Mehcad Brooks and Peter Facinelli!
* Part Two: Dueling Jimmy Olsens, Marc McClure and Michael Landes! And more guests!
* Part Three: Cosplay! Cosplay! Cosplay!
* Part Four: Views from the Super Museum!
Here in the big finale: a walkthrough of other sights and scenes from our Friday and Saturday at our favorite out-of-state small-town festival — the little moments in between the stars and the costumes. The art! The food! The machines! The more!
Superman. Batman. Life-size DOOMSDAY.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: June 10th and 11th, my wife Anne and I attended the 38th annual Superman Celebration in the city of Metropolis, Illinois. In Part One you met Supergirl‘s Mehcad Brooks and Peter Facinelli; in Part Two you met the dueling Jimmy Olsens, Marc McClure and Michael Landes; in Part Three, so very much cosplay.
On our first visit to Metropolis in 2001, we made a point of visiting Jim Hambrick’s Super Museum, their premier tourist attraction and the heart of every Superman Celebration. One of America’s foremost collectors of all things Superman has amassed enough Hollywood souvenirs, props, artifacts, and other prized obscurities to merit a public display space for fellow fans to enjoy. (We’ve even visited other museums that have items of his on loan.) We opted out on our last few visits, but this time we thought it might be nice to check back, see any new pieces he’s acquired in the past fifteen years, and retake some of the photos we took last time that seem to be hiding from us now. For five bucks a fan it’s worth a look-see and guaranteed to show you something you’ve never seen up close before.
Right this way for another peek inside this fortress of gratitude!
Arch-rivals Sinestro and Green Lantern in a rare team-up moment. Some of you may recognize the distinguished gentleman in the middle.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: June 10th and 11th, my wife Anne and I attended the 38th annual Superman Celebration in the city of Metropolis, Illinois. In Part One you met two of the headliners, Mehcad Brooks and Twilight’s Peter Facinelli from TV’s Supergirl. In Part Two you met the other guests, including two more famous Jimmy Olsens — Marc McClure from the four Superman films and Michael Landes from TV’s Lois & Clark.
As with any other comics-themed event, there shall always be cosplay. Rather than stagger our super-hero costume photo gallery across a few themed entry, right here is all the costumes fit to print. Most were from DC, but a few other superhumans infiltrated the proceedings from neighboring universes. Fortunately for them the citizens of Metropolis are welcoming to any and all — especially in times like these, when we need heroes now more than ever. All heroes.
(For value-added puzzle fun, see how many Supergirls you can count. If you can spot five or more, consider yourself an honorary CatCo Correspondent!)
Right this way for an epic-length lineup from the DC Universe and beyond!
Marc McClure and Michael Landes in a tale that should be called “The Jimmy Olsen of Two Worlds!”
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: June 10th and 11th, my wife Anne and I attended the 38th annual Superman Celebration in the city of Metropolis, Illinois. In Part One you met two of the headliners, Mehcad Brooks and Twilight’s Peter Facinelli from TV’s Supergirl. Brooks was one of three actors on hand who’s played Jimmy Olsen to someone else’s Kryptonian hero. Pictured above: Marc McClure, costar of the four Superman movies starring Christopher Reeve; and Michael Landes, costar of the first season of the ’90s series Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. My wife likes to describe the weekend as a veritable “Jimmypalooza”.
Right this way for more about the Olsen twins, and the other guests in town!
This weekend my wife Anne and I attended the 38th annual Superman Celebration in the city of Metropolis, near the southern tip of Illinois. We’ve previously attended in 2001, 2006, 2008, and 2015. We don’t make the 300-mile drive every year, but we always try to leave room on our calendar if we can, just in case.
We cleared all other appointments once this year’s four big headliners were announced. Two of those gents are costars of DC’s fun TV version of Supergirl, a favorite of ours this past season. We previously met Melissa Benoist and Chyler Leigh at C2E2 last March. We couldn’t believe we already had the chance to meet two more from its cast — Mehcad Brooks, who plays a more mature version of James “don’t call me Jimmy” Olsen; and, as billionaire genius Maxwell Lord, Peter Facinelli, a.k.a. papa vampire Dr. Carisle Cullen in the Twilight series.
Back in my day, we woke up every morning to Bryant Gumbel and Indiana’s own Jane Pauley, and we liked it.
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
DAY THREE — Monday, July 11, 2011.
Monday morning was our first time aboard a genuine NYC subway. Indianapolis fails in its lack of public transportation options, but we were no strangers to the concept. I first rode the Chicago El back in 1993, and the three of us had a pleasant experience aboard Washington DC’s Metro in 2003. Based on our experiences throughout our stay, the MTA has done a fine job of keeping the lines safe, clean, and consistently running. Rarely did we find any station approaching the level of cesspool squalor that movies, TV, and comics promise as the status quo.
First scheduled stop: Rockefeller Center, As Seen On TV!
Shortbread biscuit, big scoop of vanilla ice cream, generous serving of strawberries drenched in juice that spilled onto both hands and one shoe, and dollop of whipped cream that the top of the box flattened and made slightly less photogenic. This seven-dollar fundraiser dessert was fine by me.
I realize the popular thing for bloggers looking to commiserate with other bloggers is to participate in the popular #WeekendCoffeeShare, in which everyone pretends they’re drinking coffee while rambling about personal goings-on and this interaction eventually translates into superstar writing careers for one and all. I’ve never tried it because I’m not great at blogging according to a calendar (mine or anyone else’s), it’s established fact that I’m terrible at networking and will therefore toil in obscurity till I die satisfied with my choices, I never go to the kind of coffeehouses that serve coffee worth photographing, and I tend to avoid topics that would necessitate resorting to stock photos unless my brain refuses to let such a topic go. But I have new photos from a special occasion today, and a busy night ahead of me before an even busier weekend after that, so I ask your forgiveness for stream-of-consciousness multitasking a smidge outside the box.
In an unprecedented negotiation victory, the cast’s contracts allowed them to rewrite the entire screenplay between takes to their own satisfaction and without the director’s input. Believe it or not!
Marvel’s merry mutants are back! Academy Award Winner Jennifer Lawrence and her amazingly lower-paid friends return for X-Men: Apocalypse, the ninth film in a cinematic universe that’s unwritten at least 3¾ previous installments out of its own continuity. Everything you thought you knew, every film you thought was worth saving, every character you thought was more important than other characters, you’re wrong. Shut up, go to the concession stand, and don’t come back until you agree to stop thinking so hard about any of this. Just be happy that director Bryan Singer is finally telling the one major story that You, the Viewers at Home, clearly demanded most: the secret origin of Professor X’s bald head.
[The very special miniseries continues! See Part One for the official intro and context.]
It’s our first evening in New York City. We’re in Times Square. We’re wandering and gaping and acting like overwhelmed tourists. It’s who we are. We knew sooner or later we had to enter a store instead of just staring at their flickering big-screen ads.
They say there are eight million stories in the naked city. Nine million if you count its toys.
Muhammad Ali. Prince. David Bowie. Alan Rickman. Patty Duke. Garry Shandling. Nancy Reagan. Abe Vigoda. Raymond’s mom. Frank Drebin’s boss. Grizzly Adams. TV’s Schneider. The Phantasm guy.
For these names and others you’d recognize, 2016 has been a bad year. Whenever three or more well-regarded famous people die within the same year, that year’s name is mud. Everyone curses its name and declares it Worst Year Ever. Add in one or more horrifying wide-scale tragedies, and that year will never be allowed a moment of recognition for all the good it hosted. 2016 isn’t halfway over, but if it were an internet user, it would already be receiving daily death threats and getting trolled into oblivion by millions of typists blinded by fury at all the implied promises broken by that stupid backstabbing jerk Baby New Year 2016. Remember in January when Ryan Seacrest invited us all to welcome that baby with open arms and hearts and hopes? Now WE HATE THAT BABY SO MUCH. THANKS, SEACREST.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 