Henry Parrish looks at Rupert Giles and laughs, “Now THIS is a reference book!”
For those who missed out, my attempt to streamline the basic events follows after this courtesy spoiler alert for the sake of time-shifted viewers.
…
Katniss and Peeta practice their strained banter for their next gig hosting the PanEm Oscars.
Continue here as The MAN tries to extinguish the Girl on Fire…
Day Six or our annual road trip would be our final day in Massachusetts. Though we’d run out of exploration time for Boston, we had two more cities to visit before crossing the state border. After checking out from the our roundhouse hotel that morning, we drove northeast through a maze of highways and disorganized side streets to world-famous Salem, listed in our American history books as a site known for famous trials of considerable controversy. The town’s official tourism literature swears there’s more to Salem than just witches. During our research I got the impression that certain local parties were sick and tired of the whole “witch” debacle and wanted to put it behind them forever. Hard to blame them, all things considered.
To their credit, Salem wasn’t a dull place to wander. Their public parking is affordable, a few local establishments are famous for solid non-witch-based reasons, and public art abounds on every other street corner. A fair number of citizens have done their best to evoke anything but witchcraft and needless executions.
Time travel, for example. Witches don’t do that. Not often, anyway. If they made a habit of time travel, one or more witches surely would have irrevocably tampered with Salem’s history by now and we would all find “witch trials” to be a very confusing word pairing.
For me, Wonder Woman’s golden age began in 1985. Artist/co-writer George Perez autographed my battered old copy of that year’s WW #1 at the 2012 Superman Celebration in Metropolis.
Warner Brothers confirmed on the record today that the long-neglected Wonder Woman will be featured in a live-action theatrical release for the first time in her 72-year history, and her first live-action non-bootlegged role in 34 years. This potentially historical part has been awarded to Israeli actress Gal Gadot, who was a complete unknown to me before today, though I understand she’s a regular in the Fast and the Furious series. For longtime fans who’ve been wanting to see our legendary Princess Diana on the big screen, your wish is about to be granted.
One catch: she’s not yet earned a film to have all to herself. Instead she’ll be a supporting character in Zack Snyder’s Batman vs. Superman crossover.
…thank you? I’m not required to treasure it always, am I?
In my mind, an effective calendar needs to contain enough artistic merit that I’ll want it in my presence for twelve straight months. It helps if its content is somehow related to any of my interests at all. Free calendars, which are nearly always a promotional giveaway in honor of someone’s product that I’m probably not buying, are not consequently never my thing. Exhibit A: the example shown above, which landed in our mailbox today as a token of good will from representatives of certain non-renewable energy concerns. Because all my friends know my name is synonymous with “geek pipeline safety”.
If Daryl Dixon ever dies, your dreams of a spoiler-free Sunday evening will be beyond laughable.
Of those three fan divisions, it’s my belief that the most stressed-out and in need of help is Group 1.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: photos and notes from this year’s Starbase Indy, an annual Indianapolis sci-fi convention my wife and I rather enjoy. Last time we showed you the costumes: this time, the guests.
The headliners: two main cast members from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. At far left: Armin Shimerman, who played Quark, the devious Ferengi bartender. At far right: Rene Auberjonois, who played Odo, Changeling security head. If your TV experiences resemble mine, you’ll also know them as Principal Snyder from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Clayton Endicott III from the old sitcom Benson.
On this weekend in 1988, the inaugural Starbase Indy introduced Indianapolis to the amazing world of Star Trek conventions. Though it later expanded its purview to include other sci-fi TV shows, and was in limbo for a few years during a dark era (long story), its current owners and staffers have spent the last ten years valiantly returning to its glory days and rebalancing the original confluence of actor appearances, hobbyist events, and fan participation/interaction. For local geeks such as my wife and myself, it’s a regular highlight of our average Thanksgiving weekend, more fun and with far fewer confirmed fatalities than Black Friday.
2013 marks SBI’s eighteenth iteration and its twenty-fifth anniversary (for the asynchronous discrepancy I again point you to “long story”), but shows no signs of deterioration. If anything, this was the most efficient SBI yet — speedy photo op lines, gregarious guests all happy to be here, multiple events requiring more room space than usual, wider snack selection in the Con Suite. Best of all: two of the headliners were main cast members from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the greatest Trek series of all time in our household.
Naturally there were also costumes. Apropos of our ongoing TV marathon (as previously mentioned), we had to mark the occasion by meeting a Doctor.
Last Christmas season on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Black Friday is my annual one-man road trip. I pick one side of Indianapolis; I hit the open road in that direction, leaving family and friends behind; and I enjoy some time alone. Sure, to the average human, rushing headlong into frenzied crowds may sound like the stupidest strategy to achieve solitude. For an introvert like me who draws very little attention and rarely inspires conversation from strangers, it works surprisingly well.
Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to expect this year. I kept my expectations near zero and remained open to the possibility that I might come home empty-handed and down in the dumps. I worried that so many stores opening the evening before would serve to put the “lack” in “Black Friday”. Would all the suspiciously priced sale items be sold out? Would all the store shelves and displays be barren, their wares looted by the Blackest Thursday stampedes? Would the stores themselves still be standing, or collapsed from the wear and tear of consumer shootouts larger and grander than the Battle of Helm’s Deep?
A few stores failed me, but I’m pleased that a few locations catered to my modest whims. Per my personal standards, my trip only lasted from 8 a.m. to noon., at which point I promptly pulled the plug and went straight home. Firm boundaries are a key component of effective self-restraint.
Thanksgiving success / is measured by the lack of / pretty leftovers. [Source: file photo from / our two thousand eleven / meal to end all meals.]
Just because I can
Write a Thanksgiving haiku
Clearly means I should
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
After spending the first half of Day Five on the Hyannis Whale Watcher Cruise, we headed back west toward our Boston hotel, but with one more stopover in mind along the way: the town of Plymouth, location of the celebrated area where those stalwart adventurers known in American textbooks as the Pilgrims settled in 1620, established a new life apart from the Church of England, and invented the Thanksgiving holiday that large American department stores have all but abolished.
Plymouth’s star attraction is, of course, one of the most famous pebbles in America: Plymouth Rock. Legend and history share billing in its tale, but contemporary sources corroborated the age of the designated Rock, which dates back to at least the 1770s, if not quite to the original walking path of the Pilgrims themselves. Either way it’s certifiably centuries older than we are.
Only one network show is daring enough to bring you a haunted-house episode for Thanksgiving. (No, not Hawaii Five-0.)
For those who missed out, my attempt to streamline the basic events follows after this courtesy spoiler alert for the sake of time-shifted viewers.
…
As much as I post about the entertainment options around me, I can’t immerse myself in them 24/7. Sometimes they disappoint or frustrate me. Sometimes they demand more of my time and attention than I care to give. Sometimes the idols among them remind me how their previous versions guided me through childhood. While I grew up and improved in a way or two, too many of those idols lost their luster, descended into mediocrity, or had their Reset buttons punched to turn them into different creatures with the same names. Ultimately they’re undependable as worldview building materials.
Hence my weekly one-man retreat. Every Sunday morning after church I isolate myself from my loved ones and collections, hole up in a local chain eatery that has plenty of loitering space (it’s not too hard to identify if you know the place), clear my mind, and spend an hour-plus with caffeine, snack, Bible, spiral-bound notebook, and a copy of the late Oswald Chambers’ devotional collection My Utmost for His Highest.
For those newer readers who’ve been wondering to themselves for months: I assure you the “faith” mentioned in the site subtitle isn’t a typo.
Just a starter checklist, mind you — far from complete or even authoritative:
* Think about things besides sex. Any of the things.
* Assume every woman you meet, online or offline, is not interested. Odds are tremendous that they’re totally not.
* Realize life is not a porn flick, an ’80s teen sex comedy, or Mad Men, where anyone who’s persistent and dense will eventually luck into a sex scene.
* Stop worshiping sex as your happy fun god that demands regular conquests.
* Accept the reality that other humans are not your playthings.
* Learn the difference between female characters written poorly by men, and actual females.
* No, seriously: think about things besides sex. If you can’t think of a topic, go to WikiPedia and click “Random Article” in the left sidebar till you find anything else to contemplate.
* Hands to yourself. Forever.
* Ogling is an unacceptable substitute for eye contact.
* Just because you’re an all-star doesn’t mean everything you do or say is justified by definition.
* Just because you’re male doesn’t mean everything you do or say is justified by definition.
* Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean everything you do or say is justified by definition.
…because some people need practical advice.
…yes, we realize we’re running years behind the rest of the universe.
Our new goal for this holiday season: see how many episodes we can barrel through before the end of the year.
I am vengeance! I am the night! I haven’t had a bath in weeks!
Nope. They don’t believe it, either.
Variety reported Tuesday a small movie company that doesn’t own It’s a Wonderful Life is planning an official sequel — somehow, for some reason, possibly because greed minus self-awareness. Tentatively titled It’s a Wonderful Life: The Rest of the Story, the superfluous production will show George’s grandson being taught a lesson by his aunt Zuzu, now transformed into an angel. The company is hoping for a holiday 2015 release so it can compete against Star Wars Episode VII and look that much more foolish.
So you’ve caught Death. Now what do you do?
For those who missed out, my attempt to streamline the basic events follows after this courtesy spoiler alert for the sake of time-shifted viewers.
…
For any parent whose child has ever asked, “Where does Death come from?”…
I’m not sure if it’s reached national headlines, but this afternoon a severe storm front swept through the Midwest, took at least five lives in Illinois, and destroyed numerous structures between here and there, according to the most recent Indianapolis Star update as of this writing. (See this link for footage from Lebanon — a town halfway between our house and my son’s apartment — of a tornado that swept through the area. Among other damages, it later flipped a semi and took out a Starbucks.) Our prayers are with those currently in the midst of unthinkable tragedy as a result of the day’s upheaval.
We Hoosiers are no strangers to destructive weather. Our TV meteorologists panic more often than most of us do. It’s absolutely horrifying whenever worst-case scenarios do occur. We’ve been coached all our lives on what to do in that event; more often than not, though, all we suffer is unusual inconvenience — a broken shingle here, a leveled bush there, some broken siding on rare occasion.
Tonight, those treacherous storms ruined our dinner.
Before Casey Affleck’s upcoming turn in Out of the Furnace, there was Gone Baby Gone, among the best in this week’s movie marathon.
This week’s marathon was hobbled a bit by a sick day, wasted on long bouts of napping and angst. We’re currently taking steps to correct the condition responsible in ways that won’t require immediate medical bills. Hopefully nothing further occurs on this front that becomes interesting enough to inspire follow-up entries. Let’s all assume I get better and live happily ever after. THE END.
Otherwise the week was relaxing and fruitful in a stress-relief sort of way, and a sizable chunk was carved out of the viewing pile. This week’s staycation feature presentations were, in order of viewing:
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 