3:09 p.m. EDT: Darkened skies during the window of totality here in Indy.
First things first: no, we didn’t catch any super awesome photos of the total eclipse itself looking like a cosmic coffee ring or the old Armageddon teaser poster. 600 million Instagram users got you covered. You did check with them first, right?
Us hanging out with the rather tall Anakin Skywalker. This time he had the high ground.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
It’s that time again! This weekend my wife Anne and I attended the tenth edition of the Indiana Comic Convention at the Indiana Convention Center in scenic downtown Indianapolis. They’ve stopped calling themselves “Indiana Comic Con” on paper for tiresome legal reasons that aren’t their fault, but to us they’ll always be Indiana Comic Con. This year the showrunners reserved more than twice as much space as they did for last year’s edition, a noticeable attempt to scale back up to their pre-pandemic size. Geek life had more space to thrive, but we still had no elbow space in the aisles on Saturday…
…which we could’ve dealt with as we normally do, if anything about this weekend had come to pass exactly as we’d hoped or imagined. To be fair, I can’t blame all our travails on the show. Adulting obligations overruled our original plan to attend Friday, which we thought would be a great day to speed through most of our to-do list amid smaller crowds. We were later told by a fellow attendee that Friday was in fact not a desolate cakewalk. The Indiana Convention Center had anticipated 30,000 attendees this year, but apparently a much greater number showed up on Day One than usual.
Our primary objectives centered on special guest Hayden Christensen, an unsurprising choice to longtime MCC followers or anyone who searches this very site and sees how many times “Star Wars” comes up. We ended up moving all our other wants and photo-op appointments to Saturday and Sunday, trying our best to work around his narrow Saturday-only schedule and gritting our teeth a little because we almost never do cons on Sundays. ICC 2024 joined our short list of exceptions. Given how Saturday ultimately flew off the rails, there’s absolutely no way we could’ve done it all in a single day.
The Mad Hatter hangs out with the Frozen cast — Anna, Elsa, Kristoff, and li’l Olaf.
It’s that time again! This weekend my wife Anne and I attended the tenth edition of the Indiana Comic Convention at the Indiana Convention Center in scenic downtown Indianapolis. They’ve stopped calling themselves “Indiana Comic Con” on paper for tiresome legal reasons that aren’t their fault, but to us they’ll always be Indiana Comic Con.
ICC 2024 was another opportunity for fans to look at walls covered with old comics, build lightsabers, buy 3D-printed knickknacks, overstock on Funko Pops, respect the anime fandom whose population dwarfs us older generations, and navigate those vast crowds. This year the showrunners reserved more than twice as much space as they did for last year’s edition, a noticeable attempt to scale back up to their pre-pandemic size. Geek life had more space to thrive, but we still had no elbow space in the aisles on Saturday.
While we recuperate and wait for our feet to forgive us for their punishment, please enjoy this modest collection of cosplayers who brightened our two days around the show floor. The jazz-hands photo ops and other obligatory details will be shared in the other chapter. We regret we can only represent a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the total cosplay wonderment that was on display this weekend. We’re just an aging couple doing what we can for happy sharing fun. Enjoy! Corrections welcome for those we misidentified!
My wife Anne amid the reimagined snowscape of Victorian London.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: we don’t patronize live theater nearly often enough. Sure, we’ve visited New York City twice and strolled among those bright Broadway lights to catch popular favorites like The Lion King and Wicked. As for local theater here in Indianapolis…we’ve been shamefully negligent. My high school English classes took the occasional field trip to the Indiana Repertory Theatre — our most celebrated performance venue, but hardly our only stage — where my poor teenage self (whose family otherwise could never afford such extravagances) had the permission-slipped privilege to see productions of Macbeth (in minimalist postmodern with translucent walls), Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s comedy The Rivals (original source of “malapropism”, a useful word to fans of The Office), and Julius Caesar (starring no less an American celebrity than Family Ties‘ Michael Gross). My last engagement was thirty-three years ago.
Fast-forward to today: Anne and I had been discussing our omissions of local cultural experiences when an opportunity came up this holiday season: free tickets to the IRT’s annual performance of A Christmas Carol, courtesy of my employer (one of their nonprofit organization’s longtime sponsors). We kept our calendar clear, took advantage of the offer, and enjoyed a Christmas activity that for once had nothing to do with crowded family gatherings or big-screen movies with snow in them.
Diving polar bears represent for the Special Olympics “Polar Plunge” charity challenge.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: every year the Indiana Historical Society in downtown Indianapolis hosts a special Christmas exhibit called the Festival of Trees, for which dozens of local businesses and charities festoon a tree or tree-shaped object with decorations befitting their interests and colors. Last year I checked out the festival for my first time along with my coworkers as we sauntered over on our lunch break. We had so much fun that my boss decided our team should make it an annual tradition.
Last time I created not one, but two separate MCC galleries for the occasion. My wife Anne still doesn’t work downtown or at my company and was therefore once again sadly not included in our field trip, but I took photos to share with her and with You, The Viewers at Home. Trees are identified by their trimmers and/or donors. Enjoy!
6:30 p.m. Sunday night, total darkness thanks to Daylight Savings ending that very day.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: in October my wife Anne and I traveled from Indianapolis to Cincinnati for a live Q&A with TV’s Admiral Picard himself, Sir Patrick Stewart. The 83-year-old Shakespearean thespian and erstwhile starship captain had a new book to sell and thousands of fans to enthrall.
Speaking of American stage appearances by octogenarian Englishmen who costarred in a few landmark TV shows and some notable films, whose tours forbid the taking of photos or video, who’ve been married a few times and whose current wives are over thirty years younger than they are…now for something completely different!
Yes, we overprepared. Fortunately candy never lasts long enough for us to worry about expiration dates. Assuming candy even has those.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: each year since 2008 I’ve kept statistics on the number of trick-or-treaters brave enough to approach our suburban Indianapolis doorstep during the Halloween celebration of neighborhood unity and no-strings-attached strangers with candy. I began tracking our numbers partly for future candy inventory purposes and partly out of curiosity, so now it’s a tradition for me. Like many bloggers I’m a stats fiend who thrives on taking head counts, even when we’re expecting discouraging results.
Star Wars, age 46, is now a kind of antique. Sigh.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded…
Other than the Brau Haus, the Oldenburg business that held our attention the longest was Carriage House Antiques. We don’t officially collect antiques per se just yet, but I can feel the urge coming as we age. I’ve bought the occasional objet d’art here and there, like that one time in Paducah when I picked up a stack of random issues of Marvel’s Quasar from an antique shop, not in the 3-for-$1 clearance boxes at the comic shop down the block. I could feel that same tug as we wandered this year’s Indiana State Fair, though their antique assortment was a competition, not a bazaar. Will we ever give in to the full antiquing urge and begin hoarding stuff we find that’s older than us, or are we okay with merely window-shopping and pointing at random items while telling each other, “Hey, I remember when this was a thing”?
Franciscan nun hydrant across the street from the Convent and Academy of the Immaculate Conception,
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded…
Throughout our road trips one of our favorite art categories is Municipal Objects That Aren’t Normally Painted Unless Someone Realizes They Totally Can. During our Oldenburg walkabout it took us a few minutes to notice each of their fire hydrants benefited from an artist’s touch. It’s been eight years since the last time we saw such a collection, which dotted the landscape of Chicago’s Navy Pier. Oldenburg’s hydrants are smaller, yet nonetheless decorative and presumably practical. We’re pretty sure we spotted merely a fraction of their total hydrants, but those we saw were cute.
The Convent and Academy of the Immaculate Conception, built in the 1890s. Tours available only by appointment, which we didn’t have.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded. The two of us met in 1987 in high school German class. We can get sentimental sometimes when we’re reminded of that…
The town’s origins date back to 1837, when two speculators from the original Oldenburg in Germany bought land from a Virginia farmer who’d gotten there first. The duo drew up plans for a small community; other German immigrants joined them and founded its earliest establishments — its first church, a post office, a monastery, a convent, et al. Over time this new Oldenburg would amass a higher-than-average number of spires compared to the average Hoosier town, as expressed in their official three-spired crest that popped up here and there throughout our walk. The map that the Brat Haus waitress gave us was an unexpected and rather detailed surprise in annotating the various features and flourishes hither and yon. We’re not quite architecture geeks, but the brochure was a useful guide for our stroll around this pleasant autumn day.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 