MCC Q&A #5: Of Sandmen, Midlife Crises, and Comic Con Updates

RoKenhrontyes, Marti Matulis, Sleepy Hollow, Fox

Sometimes even Ro’Kenhrontyes has questions that need answering, and mirror images are terrible at trivia.

Though I don’t advertise it heavily with an intricately crafted banner across my “About” page, Midlife Crisis Crossover maintains an open policy of Ask Almost Anything (because in my lifetime, AAA has been far more beneficial to me than the AMA), which extends not only to regular readers and commenters, but also to constant Likers, silent Followers, and passing Googlers. If you have a question, a plea, an intensely thoughtful comment, or a request for a fun brainstorming list that can’t be answered in a short, simple reply, we’re happy to elevate it to Main Topic status for a future entry and explore the subject further in depth. Caveat: you must prove you’re not an illiterate spammer in order to qualify for this offer.

From time to time we also review queries and curious sentence fragments from passing search engine users, because even the silent, fleeting passersby deserve to be heard, even if they’re no longer around to find the answer they needed. We haven’t checked the ol’ MCC search-term mailbag in ages, and the suggestion box has indeed been stuffed silly. Tonight seems as convenient a night as any to dig in and bring closure to the unclosed.

Let the questioning begin!

* “is there any biblical parts in the movie the crood”

There’s a flood. Close enough?

* “does rachel and matheson due from the grenade in revulution”

If only we’d been so lucky. So far, still ticking.

* “train floats”

No, it won’t. Please think twice before making this misconception integral to your next heist caper.

What else do our Googlers demand to know?

For the Bygone Heroes Who Viewed Healthy Marriage as a Viable Lifestyle Choice

Superman, Lois Lane, Action Comics 775

Classic scene from Action Comics #775, March 2001: married couple Clark Kent and Lois Lane share concerns and burdens like a real married couple. Today this scene is against DC Comics law. (Written by Joe Kelly; pencils by Doug Mahnke.)

So my wife’s birthday is this weekend. She’s thankfully not yet in the mindset of lying about her age or skipping birthdays altogether, so for now I’m allowed another excuse to lavish attention and quality time upon the kindest, loveliest human I know, and I’m not just saying that because she tolerates my foibles, though that’s quite a selling point. Not every minute we share is easy, but we’ve weathered our conflicts, had our adventures, and endured thousands of quiet, boring timespans as well. Like any typical marriage that lasts for more than a month, ours has been all about the ups and the downs, the treacherous mountainsides and the plateaus. If you expect happiness and excitement 24/7/365, you’re doomed to disappointment. We recognize that, and we’ve developed the tools and the foundation to see the harsher times through.

Odd timing brought a regrettable quote to my attention today, on Wife’s Birthday Eve of all days. DC Comics had already made headlines in recent months for the lack of married couples that survived the New 52 reboot intact and not annulled. Adding fuel to the fire at this weekend’s New York Comic Con, DC editor-in-chief Bob Harras responded to a question about their heroes’ current collective failure at matrimony:

…the New 52, we want surprises. We want things to happen that may be unexpected with romances, relationships. What we ask in general is that we don’t want any of our characters rushing into stable relationships. The only character we have married is Buddy Baker, Animal Man, and that was part and parcel of the character.

Uh…huh. About that…

America’s Educational System Must Be Fixed for the Sake of Our Anagram Puzzles

Mot Hanks, Simpsons

Can YOU guess the answer? That’s right — it’s Matt Kuhn, one of the producers of How I Met Your Mother! Or, uh, close enough.

Today I exchanged emails with a loyal MCC reader (we’ll call her “my wife”) who spent part of her work day on a themed anagram puzzle, given to her as a light-hearted challenge to while away the seconds between hectic responsibilities. She received a list of twelve scrambled people or things from the 1960s and tasked with decrypting their true identities. No problem, right? Anagrams are a simple task straight out of Highlights for Children, or a weak issue of Dell Pencil Puzzles and Word Games when the writers were tired of trying.

Because her supervisors set forth no rules about what might constitute cheating, and because I know stuff, she shared the list with me so I could help her speed up the process and possibly win prizes. I like when my wife wins things because sometimes they’re shareable and I therefore also win by extension.

Three of the names on that list took us much longer than they should’ve. As a quick exercise in audience participation, see how long it takes You, the Viewers at Home, to figure out their real names before allowing your eyes to drift along further for the answers.

And…GO:

1. jaineicopnjl
2. jrdmneyiximh
3. ediotasowtlen

Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.

Click here for the quote-unquote “answers”!

Obligatory “Freshly Pressed” Follow-Up Thank-You Ramble

WordPress "Freshly Pressed" badgeIs it okay if I feel proud and sheepish at the same time?

The gracious editors at WordPress liked a post of mine from last week well enough to showcase it as “Freshly Pressed”, meaning a temporary spotlight in the WordPress commons area where thousands of other writers might give it and other folks’ recent “Freshly Pressed” posts a look. It’s extremely kind of them and thoroughly unexpected.

Continue reading

The Curse of the “Follow” Button

Follow Button Nightmare

Just so we’re clear, this haunting illustration is not intended as a superliminal message.

The Followers list of the average WordPress user is comprised largely of other WordPress users. The community is extremely supportive that way. On occasion I’ve even dug a little deeper into those notifications and discovered usernames popping in from Blogger, Tumblr, DeviantArt, YouTube, and other creative sites. If readers are attracted from outside the blogosphere altogether, that’s worth an elaborate victory dance in my book.

Some of that support is provisional, though — offered in hopeful accordance with the implied adage of “I’ll follow you if you follow me!” I’m not sure how many online communities this largely unspoken expectation pervades. When MCC first launched, I kept this guideline in mind, especially in the early era of single-digit daily traffic when any sort of response, human or otherwise, was a welcome change of pace from spending quality time with the Void.

The longer my resulting reading list grew from everyone I Followed in turn, the less I wanted to keep observing that adage. And yes, I mean “reading list”. I tried keeping up with all of them/you, even if the subject matter didn’t interest me in the slightest. It seemed the most honest response. I still read many, many blogs in any given day, but I’ve had to perform some serious triage for the sake of my free time and sanity. I’m unclear on when the “Follow” button became less a simple, literal statement for some users and more of a token to be swapped with passing strangers like marbles or pogs.

For some of my oldest followers…I think using the “Follow” button jinxed them.

Continue reading

The Experiment

This year for my birthday, my wife and I visited the Indianapolis Museum of Art because I wanted to see the traveling Ai Weiwei exhibit while it was in town. Fascinating collection of provocative, disturbing, convicting works and images.

My wife captured this thought, one of several typeset on the museum walls for the occasion.

Study questions:

If the artist works hard but doesn’t change any aspect of the world, not even a minute tweak, is the result still art? How many tries should they be allowed?

If the artist has no definitive aspiration, can they still effect change? What sort of deadline should we give them?

(Mood: contemplative. Music: Bob Mould, Black Sheets of Rain.)

MCC Annual Day of Stillness II

Since Midlife Crisis Crossover has only been around for sixteen months, I haven’t had the chance to establish any creative annual traditions yet. I’d prefer 9/11 not be one of them, but I already expressed 99% of my thoughts on the subject last year — answering the burning questions of “Where were you when, y’know, that happened?” and “How do you spend that day each year?” Rather than rewrite it from a different perspective, or reboot the whole thing as a brand new version of me with a completely different sequence of events, instead the link is enclosed here for newer readers who weren’t with us at the time, or for any longtime fans who appreciate the value of an occasional rerun:

–> Waiting Patiently for My Annual Day of Stillness to End

Those who prefer all-new material are welcome to some local on-topic trivia: my hometown of Indianapolis has its very own 9/11 memorial downtown. The dual centerpieces are girders recovered from the actual site, together weighing eleven tons.

Indianapolis 9/11 Memorial

We visited too early in the day, at a time when other things overshadow it. I detect a metaphor in there I’d rather not explore.

The granite backdrop behind the girders reads like so.

Indianapolis 9/11 Memorial

Both photos by Anne Golden.

Last year I forgot we’d taken these, but they finally came to mind this evening. I’ve kept in slightly less introverted spirits this year, albeit with mixed results. As always, Lord willing, here’s to a much brighter tomorrow.

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.

Continue reading

Post-Convention Photo-Sick Blues

Goldens, Wizard World Chicago 2013

The next time my wife and I decide to attend major geek conventions two weekends in a row, someone needs to remind me to sleep twice as much first.

Today at the comic shop, one of the owners confirmed they and the other customers have been suffering from “GenCon hangover week”. We don’t drink, but the effects are similar. We’ve been wiped out the last few days, soldiering on in our jobs, ignoring the lingering muscle strains, and lamenting that we’re no longer surrounded by those who Get It. That last part’s always the hardest to handle.

Continue reading

The Joy of Watching San Diego from the Sidelines

San Diego Comic ConI can always tell when the Greatest Spectacle in Entertainment News is revving its engines and approaching the starting line — the Facebook statuses for all my West Coast online cohorts begin chiming their location and awe in unison, letting those of us off in the distance know It Has Begun.

The unwieldy official name is Comic-Con International: San Diego. It’s been called the San Diego Comic Con since I was a kid, probably even longer than that. For as long as I’ve known comic book conventions were a thing, I’ve been aware that San Diego is America’s biggest and boldest, a four-day Shangri-La of heroes, creators, fans, dealers, publishers, cosplay, community, news, announcements, panels, and more. A four-day smorgasbord of four-color sensory overload unlike any other experience in the entirety of the hobby. And that was before Hollywood co-opted it years ago and raised the media’s attention level to new heights.

Continue reading

Not Put Asunder, Nine Years and Counting

geek couple, Midlife Crisis Crossover

Taken out of context, this photo of a happily armed woman and some dork with a bowling ball could be misconstrued as a future submission to awkwardfamilyphotos.com with a caption questioning the decision to don summer wear in December.

At left in the 2012 Metropolis Superman Celebration T-shirt, my wife is holding a Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot Range Model Air Rifle with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time. At right in the hard-to-see shirt sporting the periodic-table block for adamantium, that’s me toting the bowling ball given to Ralphie’s old man for Christmas. The backdrop is the living room from the original A Christmas Story House in Cleveland, open year-round for visitors like us.

Some vacationers might spend their time off getting drunk and sunburned on an exotic beach. That’s not who we are.

We’ve known each other for nearly twenty-six years, but Wednesday marks our ninth wedding anniversary. When the one you love is willing to pose with you without a whit of hesitation, surrounded by this much pop-culture ephemera, confident in the knowledge that we agree on the most important things in life while sharing a variety of commonalities in the Department of Ultimately Unimportant Things, you realize you’re ridiculously blessed beyond what you deserve. You also thank the Lord that He’s in charge and not Joss Whedon, or else something tragic would’ve happened five minutes after the photo was taken.

Happy Anniversary, m’lady. Can’t wait to see our vacation photos at age 70. 🙂

Comfort in Controlled Explosions (Happy July 4th)

fireworks, fountain, July 4th, Independence Day

This entry has been brought to you today by the number 4 and the chemical reaction EXPLOSIONS.

Every July 2nd is a testament to our neighborhood’s laser-precision predictability. Countless anonymous pyrophiles can’t wait to unwrap the loot from their annual fireworks shopping sprees, light ’em up and let ’em fly, even if it’s two nights ahead of calendar schedule. Also with the punctuality of an atomic clock, friends and family in other neighborhoods and states rush to their input devices and register their noise-pollution complaints online for all the world to see and Like.

Their objections are reasonable. The booms and bangs are drowning out the TV. The baby’s trying to sleep. The ruckus makes their pets skittish. July 4th isn’t meant to be a week-long celebration. The pops sound like scary gunfire. Something something fire hazard. Durn fool kids gonna blow themselves up one of these days.

I sympathize, but I don’t cosign.

Continue reading

The Official MCC “Not About” Page

Randall A. Golden, Midlife Crisis Crosssover

Shirt probably from Kohl’s; shorts probably from Wal-Mart. Wristwatch definitely from Wal-Mart. Most expensive item: ticket to visit Manhattan’s Top of the Rock. (2011 file photo.)

Consider this another hearty greeting to the continuing influx of new subscribers, real or otherwise, to this humble blog of mercurial intent. If you have no idea what we’re doing here on MCC, feel free to check out the official “About” page for a vague explanation festooned with a smattering of concrete details. Would-be MCC historians unaware of this site’s early days can check out the original, full-length version before I was overcome with a rare rewriting impulse and vaporized several hundred words.

For those who find both versions no help whatsoever, the following is a new companion piece to clarify the broad MCC mission statement by confirming some of my areas of weakness, insufficiency, disinterest, and/or mild anitpathy. It’s my hope that outlining the opposite of me should help manage expectations for future passersby who might be tempted to tap the “Follow” button with misguided hopes for the future of our reader/writer relationship.

For those tentative visitors, please be aware Midlife Crisis Crossover is 99.99% guaranteed to be not about:

* Fashion. No one wants wardrobe tips from a guy who flinches at a thirty-dollar price tag on a shirt. Occasionally I’ll feel a twinge of jealousy at those men who have the clothing budget to wear suave, name-brand outfits from classy outfitters whose newest offerings are featured in men’s-magazine pictorials before they reach upscale store racks. Even if I reconfigured my mindset and funneled all my comics/movie funding into a new monthly allowance for fabulous clothing, the best-looking items are never manufactured in my size anyway. The best you could possibly see from me here is a column called “New T-Shirt of the Month”. (For the record: my most recent acquisition was a Hawkguy T-shirt. See what I mean? And it’s even worse if I have to explain a joke.)

Continue reading

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

Continue reading

Dawn of the Exclamation Points!

Scott McCloud, DESTROY!!!

When exclamation points were king! Art by Scott McCloud! From his giant-sized book DESTROY!!! Which was loosely adapted into a film called Man of Steel!

Our family vacation is coming up soon! Looking forward to another annual road trip! Hopefully Boston and the cities along the way are worth the gas money! In all this looks to be a busy summer! I spent part of tonight researching, but now I can’t concentrate!

My current excited state isn’t just about getting away from it all! I’ve spent the last hour thinking entirely in exclamations! This is not normally a problem for me! I blame another website! As a longtime comic book fan, I like keeping up on comics sales figures! A comics news site called The Beat provides monthly updates that can be either entertaining or dry, depending on the writer! For DC Comics’ April 2013 writeup, the drier writer decided to try something different! Every sentence was a shout at the heart of the world! Every comment was a drill sergeant’s command! Suddenly the stats and comparisons were all about action! And danger! And thrills! And now I can’t stop using them myself! I’ll get him for this!

Continue reading

Loner Dad’s Long, Proud, Awkward Day on Campus

college presentations

Consider, if you will, the following case of orientation disorientation.

This past Monday my son’s college held a special all-day program for incoming freshmen to undergo orientation, hear intros to their respective schools, meet their advisors, register for their first semester’s classes, experience an actual dorm food-court meal, and endure a self-guided campus walkabout to accomplish all the other activities at various buildings, only some of which are next door to each other. I tagged along to multitask the roles of chauffeur, navigator, sidekick, and personal ombudsman whenever he needed to question or vent about something. By and large, my parts were played with utmost competence.

Continue reading

Minimal Notes from Inside Our Spoiler-Free Bunker

Superman, Jason Todd, Dave Gibbons, DC Comics

Superman doesn’t like it when someone ruins his story. (Art by Dave Gibbons from 1985’s Superman Annual #11.)

If the lively debates on my social-media feeds are any indication, our family may well be the last people in America to see Man of Steel. I’m glad that’ll be rectified within the next eighteen hours. Unfortunately, in order for the film’s surprises to retain as much of their intended impact as possible, I’ve shifted myself into selective internet blindness this evening.

I’ve shunned Twitter’s outbreak of Man of Steel discussion groups. I’ve refused to read any reviews, whether they carry a courtesy spoiler alert or not. I’m even temporarily resisting the urge to read what I understand from several sources (while held at arm’s length, mind you) is a fascinating dissection of the movie by Superman: Birthright writer Mark Waid, a generally awesome comics creator who’s also one of the universe’s most devout Superman fans. Someday I’d love to read his thoughts, but it won’t be this moment.

Continue reading

Mailing Stuff for Dummies

sample envelopeTonight I found a glaring hole in my son’s education that all the high school diplomas in the world couldn’t cover.

At his recent graduation, a friend asked him to hold her school ID during the ceremony because neither her dress nor the graduation robe had pockets. As her friend and a lifelong pants-wearer, he obliged. When we arrived home hours later, he realized she failed to ask for it back and he forgot to return it. (Even though they’re both graduated and free, I think she still needs it to pick up her 2012-2013 yearbook when they’ve finally printed circa spring 2015.) Since their schedules haven’t quite synched up, he offered to mail it to her. She messaged her address to him.

I handed him a blank envelope. He gave me a blank look.

Continue reading

A Geek Guide to Small-Talk Parameter Adjustments

Evan Dorkin, Eltingville Club

Talking hobbies amongst friends is cool. Sharing them with Grandma is generous of you, but will frighten and confuse her. (Pictured: “Eltingville Club” art from Evan Dorkin’s Dork #6.)

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover, I struggled to convey why I’ve recused myself from the tens of thousands of online symposia on the unsolved mystery of “What’s the difference between a geek and a nerd?” In defining my terms, I contrasted “geek” with “ordinary” in a brief, simplistic fashion:

From my own day-to-day standpoint, it’s as simple as this: if I talk about a given subject at either church, work, or family gatherings and receive nothing but blank stares or furrowed brows in return, those are the ordinary people. In those settings, I know that my version of “small talk” would wander too far past the geek boundary and I keep my mouth shut, except about the weather or whatever subjects they bring up first.

All of this sets aside the fact that I do embrace ordinary aspects about myself and my life as well, as longtime MCC readers should recognize by now, considering the number of past entries that were overtly not about geek-relevant topics, but were usually (hopefully?) informed in subtle ways by my interests and skill sets. (Tomorrow night’s entry will be one of those, in fact, 100% guaranteed.) Suffice it to say I’m not mocking anyone who’s 100% ordinary/0% geek — merely observing there are pronounced differences when those percentages fluctuate.

Continue reading

Someone Please Resolve the “Geek”/”Nerd” Semantic Rivalry Before We Start Stabbing Each Other Over It

Chris Hardwick, The Nerdist Way

This book came close to changing my mind. So, so close.

The following entry is unapologetically subjective, will be unhelpful to most readers, and represents no definitive settlement of the matter for anyone except possibly myself, and I may even be wrong about that. Though I’m codifying my stance for the sake of never having to revisit this topic again if I can help it, I nonetheless reserve the privilege to change my mind without notice as time gallops forward, life experiences continue accumulating, and the aging process turns me either mellower or more crotchety than ever. I haven’t decided which road to take yet.

(Yes, that’s me front-loading the piece with an unwieldy headline and a nearly irrelevant disclaimer. If I were a film director, I clearly wouldn’t be the breed that insists Act 1, Scene 1 must be all about exploding cars. Between those and this bonus meta-parenthetical, I hereby declare the tone Properly Set.)

Continue reading