Derpy and Derpy, coming this fall to The CW! Taken the previous weekend at PopCon Indy 2026.

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 we once again offer two for the bandwidth of one, a pretty sweet deal in any economy, not just this one.

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 best part about entertaining myself here in my own little hermit shack is that I own the place and I don’t have to worry about moderators editing or deleting my posts, which is nice.

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 21 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, no real marketing, no SEO optimization above what WordPress provides without me reading up on it, or A.I. use of any kind whatsoever. If A.I. thinks it can replace me by attending comic-cons with Anne and meeting actors who’ve performed in works I personally like, I look forward to seeing how well it can do jazz hands without actually having any hands or any crooked teeth to hide while smiling.

14 years and 2,963 entries later (including this one) we keep going 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 overt political diatribes. I’m all about burying passive-aggressive quips in the longer paragraphs that y’all skip over.

Also older now: me! Today I officially survived to age 54 and remain incredulous that God still lets keep doing this thing called life — like, at all, let alone with Anne by my side. I wrote about this five years ago, but it’s still true: every time a celebrity younger than me dies, or whenever I learn some actor from long ago passed away far too young, I mourn, I feel weirdly undeserving, and I try not to dwell on how much time I might have left. That-a-way lies madness, and yet. Faith definitely helps steer me toward kinder thoughts, plus distractions and preoccupations can be a useful head-turner, such as this whole “pop culture” fad that’s still all the rage, over a century and counting.

As usual, Anne went above and beyond in spoiling me for the occasion. As I posted earlier, we spent Friday evening attending the “Airplane! Live” at its first stop here in Indianapolis. That wasn’t all we did, though.

We parked behind the Murat, a.k.a. the Old National Centre. Until this very week I never knew there was a parking garage behind the Murat.

Dinner was down the block at Salt on Mass, a purveyor of refined seafood, which must be quite the challenge here in our landlocked Midwest state. It’ll be a while before we conscientiously indulge in a meal on that level again, but hey: special occasion.

Our appetizer of Kung Pao Rock Shrimp served with a chili-garlic aioli. The heat compounded slowly and nicely.

Anne took the soup-and-salad route. Roasted red-and-gold beet salad with arugula, frisee, whipped goat cheese, and roasted walnuts dressed in a balsamic glaze; paired with…

…a creamy lobster bisque with shallots and sherry. I loved both her dishes as well as my own…

…seared ahi tuna with an orange blossom honey and smoked sea salt sauce, atop parmesan risotto.

For dessert we split a Chocolate Opera Cake — milk chocolate mousse topped with ganache on a chocolate cookie crust, plus birthday trimmings.

The lovely amazing lady who facilitated this celebration and helps makes every day worth it.

…and then we were off to rewatch Airplane! at the Murat, see two famous actors in person, do jazz hands, thank the Lord for the time allotted, and try not to think about the fact that Stephen Stucker, MVP of both Airplane films (“Oh, it’s a big pretty white plane with red stripes and curtains in the window and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol!”) unfairly died in 1986 at age 38.

…

Not until the next day did I realize the irony of having fish for dinner right before seeing Airplane!

Date-night jazz hands!