The Walking Flag

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: a week ago Friday I shared thoughts and moments from an Indianapolis Indians game my wife and I attended, in which they eventually beat the Louisville Bats 4-3. As I mentioned in that entry, the tickets were a boon from my employer, in exchange for certain services rendered.

The service in question was performed during opening ceremonies from a most unusual POV — emerging from the tunnels beneath Victory Field, through double doors in the far corner beyond left field, marching out to center field as part of a walking flag.

Walking Flag

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How Far Would You Go to Meet Willie from “V”?

My wife has always been a big fan of the 1983 TV miniseries V and its 1984 sequel, V: the Final Battle. She could take or leave the short-lived series that followed, and she had no interest in sampling the recent failed reboot.

Veterans of V are an extreme rarity at local geek conventions. Until tonight she’d only met its star, Marc Singer, several years ago at a Trek con that was generous enough to incorporate other sci-fi universes. While it was interesting for us to see the original Beastmaster up close, he was never her favorite V character. Whenever she waxes nostalgic about the show, her narrative sooner or later turns to the subplot of Willie, the humble alien Visitor who would betray his race, join the human resistance, provide comic relief, and lend the show some much-appreciated heart. He may not have been a he-man like Singer, but I’ll admit he stood out in every episode I saw when she introduced me to their world.

This weekend that particular actor is in town, headlining a convention that’s been around for a few years. We’ve never attended it before because its primary focus really isn’t our thing. After weeks of hemming and hawing over whether or not this was a suitable idea for us, ultimately we had to ask ourselves: how many other chances will she have to meet him?

It’s in that spirit, after no small amount of deliberation, that we endured wretched construction traffic and the world’s ickiest dealer booths to grant her not-dying wish of meeting the man who brought Willie to life.

Many of you know him better for his movie work, including one specific character ten thousand times more well-known than Willie.

Robert Englund, HorrorHound Indy 2013

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A Night at the Ballgame (Baseball Optional)

Victory Field, Indianapolis Indians

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my aversion to sports. I was raised in a household with zero male authority figures and consequently never acquired the stereotypical male’s tastes for sports, among other fields. (Also: car repair, gas-powered tools, alcohol, partying, sexual conquest, bar fights…) That’s not to say I’m ignorant of sports. I learned most of the rules during childhood, so I can follow most games if necessary. American football still puzzles me, but it’s a relief to me that its order of operations has yet to factor into any life-or-death situations.

In fact, one of my little-known secret rules is that, schedule permitting, I’ll gladly attend any sports event to which I’m given free tickets. Invited by a friend? Won ’em in a contest? Someone had extras? Deal. I’m sold. So far in my life I’ve been a guest at one college basketball game (Butler vs. Purdue, though there was more shoving than dribbling); won tickets to the RCA Tennis Tournament when it was Indianapolis years ago; watched a few events at the 1987 Pan Am games back; was invited along to two (or was it three?) runnings of the Indianapolis 500; and tried to attend two of our niece’s junior-high softball games, but one was rained out and the other was held at a completely different park from where we’d driven.

In that same spirit, a boon from my employer facilitated tonight’s very special date with my wife at fabulous Victory Field, home of the Indianapolis Indians, our local minor-league baseball team.

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Indiana Ad Campaign Targets Unsuspecting, Hopefully Well-Connected Times Square Tourists

Indiana business ad

There’s more than corn in Indiana! Now we’re gonna have trips to MARS. Your move, Kentucky.

I’m used to seeing other states infiltrating Indiana’s airwaves with their vacation ads. Ohio, Tennessee, and even faraway Florida have been grasping at our wallets for years. Michigan even stepped up their game a while back by hiring the Tim Allen to narrate their radio ads in dulcet, nature-loving tones, mesmerizing us with the possibilities of boating and hiking and exploring the wonders of God’s creation due north of us, all while carefully sidestepping the whole Detroit thing.

This week, Indiana decided to strike back and dream big. Rather than harass our mediocre neighbors, the Powers That Be struck a deal that leapfrogged over Ohio, Pennsylvania, and the northwest corner of New Jersey to target the Big Apple itself. In an even brasher move against the colossus that is New York City, we’re not even bragging about our welcoming tourist trade, our copious sports-related attractions, or our much cheaper downtown parking. Apparently we’re looking for a few good businesses.

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Indiana State Fair 2013 Photos, Part 3 of 3: Arts and Stages

At long last, the trilogy draws to a close. In Part One, we examined the foodstuffs and agriculture at this year’s Indiana State Fair. In Part Two, we spotlighted a traveling animation exhibit that visited Indianapolis at just the right time and place.

Part Three divides neatly into two parts, beginning with a tip of the hat to the art of the fairgrounds. Between the advertising fixtures and the 4-H art contests, creativity is in abundant supply if you’re patient enough to search for it.

That being said: Hobbit diorama for the win.

Hobbit diorama, Indiana State Fair

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The GenCon 2013 Wednesday Night Food Truck Shindig

It’s that time of year again! This weekend GenCon returns to Indianapolis for another extended weekend of gaming and related forms of competition and geekery. My wife and I aren’t fullly accredited gamers, but we frequently find interesting activities and objects tangentially included in the proceedings, so we’ve dropped in on a few Saturdays. This year marks a bold new experiment for us: we’ll be taking our nephew along for the ride. Should be fun.

This year’s GenCon kicked off early today with a pre-show party downtown on Georgia Street, east of the Indiana Convention Center. Whereas the official focus was on alcohol provided by locally owned Sun King Brewery, we non-drinkers took advantage of the large cluster of food trucks on hand.

Indianapolis food trucks, GenCon 2013

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Indiana State Fair 2013 Photos, Part 2 of 3: the Animation Exhibition

Continuing the trilogy of this year’s captured moments from the event mentioned up there in the title:

One of this year’s feature presentations is “Get Animated”, a traveling exhibit about the animation medium that’s appeared in other states over the last three years before gracing our fair land with its colorful presence.

Longtime fans of the field will appreciate the looks back at the Looney Tunes era, including art samples and souvenirs from notable directors such as Bob Clampett and Chuck Jones.

animation model sheets

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Indiana State Fair 2013 Photos, Part 1 of 3: Food, Folks, and Farms

The Indiana State Fair is a fun annual celebration of Hoosier pride, farming, food, and 4-H, with amusement park rides and big-ticket concerts by Top-40 or country artists. My wife and I attend each year as a date-day to seek new forms of creativity and imagination within a local context.

This year’s food theme was the Year of Popcorn. Unlike the food themes in years past (e.g., tomato, soybeans), very few vendors tried to incorporate this ingredient into new dishes. Local artists did their best to work within the inherent limitations.

popcorn guy, Indiana State Fair

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The Line for Free Cake Began Here

Cake Boss empty line, Indianapolis

I missed it by that much.

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My Daily View of Downtown Indy if I Stop, Breathe, and Look Around

Despite any work-related stress or discontent I might experience on any or every given weekday, I admit the perks package is above and beyond what friends tell me their employers begrudgingly eke out. One of the less financially grounded, technically more tangible perks: if I can tear myself away from my monitors for a moment, I have ceiling-to-shin-level window seating with a view of two of downtown Indianapolis’ most prominent landmarks.

To one side: the Indiana Statehouse and our official Capitol Dome.

Indiana Statehouse, Indianapolis

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Indianapolis Comic Con 2014: Hoax, Dream, or Imaginary Story?

Ghost Rider, C2E2 2011

Comics! Anime! Video Games! T-shirt vendors! Whovians! Uglydoll! This never-before-shared file photo from C2E2 2011 has it all! (Unlike Indianapolis. For now.)

The Indianapolis Comic Con. Comic Con: Indianapolis. The Indianapolis Comics Expo. ICE2. Wizard World Indianapolis.

Several theoretical names have floated fancily through my head over the decades, ever since the erstwhile Comics Buyer’s Guide taught me about the magical world of comic book conventions when I subscribed to them in 1986. I’ve always wondered if Indianapolis would ever be respectable enough to merit a large-scale comic-con of its own. We had little comic book shows on the east side a few time a year that occasionally drew one or two special guests. Circa 1989 or 1990 someone threw a shindig in Indy called HoosierCon 1, but I had to work the entire weekend and missed it. I never heard a peep about it after the fact, sequels never manifested, and Google tells me no one in world history has ever rhapsodized about it online. I presume plans went awry.

This week the Indianapolis Star reported that someone out there wants to make my pipe dream a reality. A young Florida-based company called Action3 Events and Promotions has scheduled a comics convention for March 14-16, 2014, in our very own Indiana Convention Center. It’s as yet unnamed and not yet listed on their official site, but official enough that they’re proclaiming its proposed existence in public interviews. That much alone is a positive sign.

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A Perplexing Day with Commercial Radio, My Longtime Recurring Nemesis

107.9, Indianapolis radioYou know something’s afoot when you turn on the shower radio at 6:45 a.m. and hear Anne Murray crooning “O Come, All Ye Faithful”. Or maybe it was Julie Andrews.

I spend a minute or so trying to name the singer, ignoring for a moment that the radio was celebrating Christmas in May. The guessing game ends when the mystery diva is succeeded by Wham!’s “Last Christmas”, for which I have no use even in December. Somewhere in Indianapolis, either a DJ is greatly amusing himself, listener requests have taken a bizarre turn in the hands of joyous off-season mob rule, or Skynet is taking over the airwaves as part of a truly twisted master plan and doing a terrible job of acting naturally.

I’m not a morning person and my brain isn’t a morning organ. The confusion sown by my early-morning background noise inspires my brain to awaken more quickly than usual. Now it has a mystery to solve.

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May 4th is Free Comic Book Day 2013! Go Get Some!

Free Comic Book Day 2013I would be remiss in my comics fandom if I didn’t take a moment to plug the heck out of the twelfth annual Free Comic Book Day. And no one likes being remiss. No one.

Each year since 2002, American comic book shops participate in the hobby’s largest outreach effort, to alert the world that comic books are still being published, aren’t all terrible, and would be even better if more people bought them so that they could afford to make even more comics, or at least afford to make their current comics even better and prevent their writers and artists from being lured away by other, better-paying media. To that end, comic shops nationwide hand out free comics to any and all visitors — not all their comics, mind you, or else they all go bankrupt and Free Comic Book Day defeats itself. Rather, all the major comic book publishers, an impressive number of semi-major publishers, and a crowd of eager indie startups each publish their own FCBD specials for the occasion — usually all-new stories available nowhere else, except for a couple of Scrooge-like companies who serve lukewarm reprints, under the impression that newcomers will be none the wiser.

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College Dropout Prepares to Pass on the Opposite of His Legacy

This weekend’s main event was eighteen years in the making, an experience I never imagined because few parents want to daydream that far ahead in their children’s lives. Sure, we look forward to a few milestones — first steps, first words, first day of school, all the best parts of the cute years. I suppose some parents dwell on the long-term forecast and begin planning for the arrival of their grandchildren. I’ve taken more of a walk-before-they-can-run, crawl-before-they-can-walk approach when it comes to second-guessing my son’s future for him.

That being rambled on about: Saturday I drove my son up to West Lafayette for a tour of the campus of Purdue University, where he’s been accepted and is scheduled to attend this fall. Needless to say, our family is mostly thrilled (there’s always a naysayer, isn’t there?) and, having seen what’s in store for my former infant, I now feel ten years older than I did last year.

Purdue Clock Tower

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A Day (or so) in My Life: a Moment of Thankfulness at Easter

First things first, above all else: Happy, glorious, wondrous Easter to one and all!

My laundry list of thank-yous and expressions of gratitude relevant to this celebratory occasion would go on for pages and surprise no one who knows me. Even something as simple as an ordinary day in my life is cause for joy, though I’m just as likely to take too much of each one for granted.

Behold the city of Indianapolis, where my ordinary average day begins. It’s above-average in size, but still treated as one of the runts in the major-American-city clique, though the positive reviews of our Super Bowl LXVI hosting experience went a long way toward convincing other cities to stop calling us names. Many of the fruits produced in my life wouldn’t have been possible if Indy were the nonstop battleground that local news would sometimes have us think it is.

Indianapolis skyline

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Lamentation for an Odd Ball Out

dead ballThis poor ball was abandoned on our lawn at the beginning of the week. On day one, I left it alone, certain that its young, anonymous owner would come fetch it once its absence was discovered. Even partly deflated, surely it’s known its share of good times. At the very least, it’s good to know we have at least one school-age neighbor who’s not allergic to physical activity or the outdoors.

Days two and three were made of distractions that obscured it from my notice. During those exhausting weeks that consist of a dense work-write-sleep-repeat hamster-wheel cycle, an unconscious tunnel vision sometimes kicks in and limits my sensory input for the sake of simplifying my thought processes, streamlining my day, and conserving personal energy in general. Overlooking becomes a defense mechanism of sorts.

I realized on day four it was still loitering out front and decided to offer it shelter from our erratic March weather. My family gave me the strangest looks. My son thinks it’s contaminating our environs. Our dog attacked it on first sight, then let it be because he prefers his prey stuffed and fuzzy. It doesn’t need to be cluttering my lawn, but I decided to hold on to it for a few more days in hopes that someone would come claim it as their own.

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I Guess Flowers are Pretty

Twice per year my wife and I escort her grandmother to one of two special events at the Indiana State Fairgrounds. Each November we visit the Indiana Christmas Gift and Hobby Show, as previously recounted. Each March the highlight of her month is the Indiana Flower & Patio Show, which features numerous displays of colorful flora, booths where gardeners and homeowners can peruse and pick out their new seeds, plants, implements, and accoutrements for tending and cultivating their yards in the forthcoming spring and summer. Assorted horticulturists and lawn care companies show off bouquets, sample gardens, and ostentatious flowers you’ll wish you owned.

open tulips, Indiana

It’s my understanding that the average adult is into that sort of thing. Retirees in particular seemingly transfer their forty weekly work-hours from their former rat-race grind to the soil beds surrounding their houses instead. With all that time on their hands, I imagine such handiwork is both fulfilling and possible.

My wife and struggle with this concept.

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Running an Art Museum for Fun and Profit, Part II: When It’s Time to Slash and Burn

Indianapolis Museum of Art

Most of this decorative frippery could be dismantled and sold as scrap metal. (photo credit: Valerie Everett via photopin cc)

Last weekend’s suggestion-box entry regarding possible economic improvement measures at the Indianapolis Museum of Art wasn’t intended as the launch of a new MCC series, merely a one-off, tongue-in-cheek response to other online reactions. Then again, I wasn’t expecting to see the IMA recapture the headlines this soon.

On Monday local news sources confirmed that our city’s largest art museum has eliminated twenty-nine employees (11% of the total staff) as part of their ongoing efforts to stem the losses from previous years’ shortfalls, and as part of new director/CEO Charles Venable’s plan to minimize budgetary dependence on the museum’s endowment fund, which weathered considerable battle damage during the 2008 recession. I don’t envy the position in which Venable and his survivors now find themselves, though I’m a little bitter that they didn’t even try any of my awesome ideas before swinging the axe of doom.

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Tips for Running an Art Museum for Fun and Profit

Indianapolis Museum of Art

The Indianapolis Museum of Art, which would make an awesome small-vehicle stunt-racing track. (Photo credit: Serge Melki via photopin cc)

In an era when taxpayers are overprotective of their disposable income and unappreciative of any art beyond the confines of their smartphone apps, I don’t envy the complicated role of the museum curator. Your purpose in society is to sort through millennia of art history, negotiate the opportunities to host the cream of the crop, settle for what’s available, and present the results to an audience that hopefully finds it all enlightening and engaging enough to leave behind some dollars on their way out. Best-case scenario: their donations and gift shop purchases are just enough to fund the next exhibit, cover the staff’s wages, and maybe even buy yourself a new tie.

Sadly, not all museums are enjoying the best of times today. Here in my hometown, our very own Indianapolis Museum of Art has struggled to recover after $89 million evaporated from their endowment in the 2008 recession. A recent Indianapolis Star interview with its new director, Charles Venable, revealed a few ideas the museum hopes to implement in order to recover lost ground, some of which have raised eyebrows of local patrons: a Matisse exhibit with a sizable surcharge (admission to IMA is normally free); late-night cocktail parties; and possibly an exotic car show. A few cost-cutting measures have already been taken, but financial stability can’t be achieved merely by clicking your heels three times and repeating the mantra, “Do more with less! Do more with less! Do more with less!” That way lies not wish fulfillment, but bankruptcy.

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Super Bowl XLVI Pre-Party Photo Archive: When the Big Game Came to Indianapolis

Super Bowl XLVI, Indianapolis, Doritos

“You got your snacks in my football!” “You got your football in my snacks!”

This week all of Planet Earth is clearing its weekend calendar, stocking up on snacks, upgrading their TVs, and preparing for the greatest spectacle in American football. Super Bowl XLVII hits the airwaves this Sunday, February 3rd, as the San Francisco 49ers and the Baltimore Ravens will face each other at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome down in New Orleans. Here in Indianapolis, Colts fans are disappointed that rookie quarterback Andrew Luck didn’t carry the entire team to the grand finale on his back, but they’ve consoled themselves with the knowledge that those infernal New England Patriots didn’t make it either.

As mentioned in previous entries, I’m not a sports fan, so the Super Bowl usually holds no meaning for me. I’m not even one of those casual viewers who attends a bona fide Super Bowl party to gorge on refreshments and watch the world’s most expensive new TV commercials. My family has its own Super Bowl Sunday traditions, none of which involve feigning sports interest for a day or being invited to parties by other people. It’s just not our thing.

For the space of a few hours, last year’s Super Bowl XLVI was a slightly different story.

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