This writer two days ago, buffeted by winds on the fourth floor of De Zwaan, the titular centerpiece of Windmill Island Gardens in Holland, Michigan — this year’s birthday outing!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: we have annual traditions ’round these parts! Two such occasions fall three weeks apart each year, often but not always receiving separate entries of incredulous self-congratulation. In this attention-deficit economy, though, we once again offer two for the bandwidth of one, a pretty sweet deal.

I launched this wee blog on April 28, 2012, three weeks before my 40th birthday as a means of charting the effects of the aging process on my opinions of, enthusiasm for, offense at, and/or detailed nitpicking of various works of art, expression, humanity, inhumanity, glory, love, idolatry, inspiration, hollowness, geek lifestyles, food, and Deep Thoughts. MCC has also served as a digital scrapbook for our annual road trips, comic cons, birthday expeditions, and other modest travels. It’s a general repository for any other content that comes to mind and feels worth the time and effort to type up, proofread, and release unto a world-at-large that rarely visits websites anymore because social-media angst is the sole reading matter of choice among today’s average digital participant. The occasional “Whatever Happened to Blogs?” thinkpiece comes and goes, netting 1/1,000th the traffic of what writers can get merely by tweeting “I miss blogs” without any further thoughts or discernible support of blogs.

Longtime MCC readers know this site is all me me me me me, plus special appearances and other invaluable contributions from Anne, my wife of 20 years and fan for a bit longer than that. This unpaid quasi-boutique hobby-job was built on a thin foundation with no claim to fame, virtually no preexisting fandom, no networking skills, no books to sell, no merch with my face on it to hawk, no funding from PBS, and no patience for marketers, SEO optimizers, or bots disguised as would-be contributors, all of which wither away and perish in my spam folder. Sure, MCC is kind of a remote island, but it’s one where I enjoy total ownership of the contents and no outside interference from moderators or billionaire overlords. It’s free speech in its purest form, if not its most profitable.

(By the end of 2025, WordPress’ meager AdWords setup will have earned me across thirteen years just enough to cover my choice of one mortgage payment — sans property-tax escrow — or one new TV with some bells and a couple whistles. Thank the Lord for my day job.)

Last month’s official notification to me. I haven’t exchanged words with a living WordPress employee in over a decade, but their app appreciates I haven’t bounced a payment yet.

13 years and 2,838 entries later we keep on keepin’ on whenever free time permits and my blood pressure meds don’t ruin the writing process. To all those who keep receiving the notifications, actually opening them, and even going so far as to read the occasional entry, I deeply appreciate your support of this li’l personal non-private journal despite its flagrant lack of political diatribes assuring you your favorite party is awesome. I cannot help you. At all.

In related news: I, like MCC, also got older! Last Saturday I officially survived to age 53 and remain incredulous that God still lets keep doing this thing called life. I've never understood folks who ignore their birthdays and take survival for granted. Granted, I do feel creakier than ever, which is why I just bought my first tube of Ben-Gay the other day under the impression it would relieve post-comic-con aches and pains. It helped, yes, but I also learned the hard way it’s what nursing homes use as potpourri, possibly by smearing it on the baseboards or adding it to the tapioca pudding. I do regret fogging our living room with its scent for hours, but the other important lesson here is realizing I can still, in fact, learn new things.

Anne graciously took care of spoiling me for the occasion, and so far I’ve received two whole birthday cards in the mail, with no idea how many more USPS is holding hostage in their undelivered warehouse dumps. They’re easily outnumbered by the offers that have flooded my email inboxes. So far I’ve received deals and coupons from AMC Theatres, Regal Cinemas, Landmark Theatres, Fandango, Midtown Comics, the Disney Store, Panera Bread, Longhorn Steakhouse, Cheesecake Factory, and Metro Diner. I’ll use very few of these yet accept their validation of my existence. See, this is the kind of marketing attention I enjoy, not overseas companies begging to clutter MCC with their shady adverts and guest-post-shaped spam.

And those are just the deals they send to past customers of any age! In two years I’ll qualify for over-55 discounts at some applicable businesses, and then we’ll see how to make this whole “aging process” thing really pay off for me…possibly more than the blog itself does. Updates as they occur.

For those weirdly curious, here’s a pic of what passes for my birthday cake this year: an “InstaCake” one of my thoughtful coworkers bought me. It’s a kit in a plastic baggie containing ingredients and disposable makeshift tools that, when you add water and presumably follow the instructions to the letter, produce one (1) square slice of “birthday cake” in a paper bowl. To me the results looked and tasted like lumpy mashed potatoes tinted with corn syrup, but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

Special thanks to Ice Cream Maker Guy for his pretend assistance with the “baking” of this DIY “treat”.

Again, thanks for reading! Lord willing, see you next commemoration, should you choose to click on it. Or pass me by and keep doomscrolling! You do you! I’m not your real father!