During our sobering Sunday morning walk through Ingram Park, we saw small circles of chatting friends sharing the central commons area, while homeless stragglers reserved an errant bench here, inspected yesterday’s discarded leftovers there. All of us were equally surrounded by statues honoring those who fifty years ago walked, gathered, and fought on this very block for a better world. The reminders are impossible to ignore, but it’s up to each of us to heed them.
Day Two, early Sunday morning in Alabama: we arrived at our first stop in the heart of Birmingham, a few hours before most of the city would wake up, some fifty years after our country began to wake up.
The four-acre Kelly Ingram Park is an idyllic public gathering spot, a touch of verdant life in a graying downtown, and a momentous landmark of tumultuous times. In the 1960s the stone walkways beneath our feet once hosted impassioned demonstrations against oppression, segregation, and various acts of racism both institutional and internal. Today various signs and statues around the park serve as reminders of what it was like to walk in their footsteps and stand where they took a stand.
At last, it’s our turn for Coke to really speak to us! Or so we tell ourselves.
Not every stretch of highway is an endless parade of merriment. Not every side quest earns us a Trophy or Achievement. Not every minute can be filled with photogenic overstimulation. Sometimes we’re okay with that, because sometimes we need time to relax and breathe on our so-called “vacations”.
Sometimes the clock works against us. Sometimes it’s a choice on our part. One to-do item is sacrificed so another to-do item might see fruition. Failure and compromise play into every road trip.
Sometimes we find little moments between the grand occasions and the oncoming letdowns. And sometimes there are snacks.
Teaser image from our 2015 road trip, Day 5. Coming soon!
[Hey, all! The following special presentation is the all-new Page added tonight to MCC that merges and replaces the previous individual “Our Road Trip” checklists that were taking up too much real estate in the desktop header and the mobile menu. This handy Big Picture checklist summarizes all the trips we’ve taken to date for full historical context, with links to everything that’s been exclusively posted here since 2012, a few years’ worth that have been reprinted here on special occasions, and capsule summaries of other trips and vacations we previously shared on other sites in years past that, sooner or later, Lord willing, will all be re-chronicled on MCC someday as part of the continuing story of one geek couple and their annual quests to find new things to see and do.
Or if you totally hate domestic travel, skip down to the 2013-2014 checklists and pretend this is a different new entry called “A Salute to MCC Post Titles”. I’d understand if you did, really. I do like titling stuff.]
Right this way for lists within lists, which I also really like!
This never-used Saturn IB launch vehicle is now a fantastic lawn ornament.
We had no idea what to expect from our first foray into Alabama. Our seven-day round-trip drive took us both ways through the 300-mile expanse it occupies between Tennessee and Louisiana, and gave us opportunities for stops at several points of varying interest levels. Our first impressions confirmed our research results: it’s large. It contains multitudes.
That location in the photo? That’s just their Welcome Center.
We weren’t ready for lunch by the time we left the Zachary Taylor National Cemetery in Louisville, but we knew I wouldn’t last all the way till Nashville without food. We pressed ahead another hour or so, letting Anne nap for a bit and keeping a lookout for a convenient lunchtime stop that was not a national chain. Interstate exit signs trying to entice us into McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, Dairy Queen, Subway, and/or Waffle House were a waste of logo paint to my eyes.
Pictured above is my prize for outstanding achievement in the field of stubbornness: a pork shoulder sandwich on a pretzel-roll bun with barbecue sauce, discovered in a town called Munfordville, population 1600.
If you think this is large, wait’ll you see what my wife ordered…
All the best road trips start with a stop. Sure, you could drive fourteen continuous hours from Indianapolis to New Orleans with pauses only for gas, food, bathrooms, and traffic jams. Or you could break up the monotony of hundreds of miles of forested interstate scenes with some creative opportunities for learning, thinking, or gawking. Some say the journey is better than the destination, but why settle for just one destination?
After an aggravating forty-minute delay due to hometown road construction that saw a three-lane interstate reduced to one backed-up single-file BMV standstill, we were all too relieved to escape town and head south toward open roads, sunny skies, fresh air, American freedom, and pure vacation joy.
Our first stop: a Presidential burial site. Say hi to mini-Zachary Taylor.
Certain parties insisted beignets would be the most important important and life-changing aspect of our experience. Let’s just get these out of the way up front.
Each year my wife and I take a road trip to a different part of the United States and see what sorts of historical sites, natural splendors, bizarre man-made creations, culinary marvels, and valuable life lessons await us. We began the tradition in 1999 during our best-friend years as an excuse to attend geek conventions and fan gatherings outside Indianapolis. After four years of narrowly focused hijinks, the tradition evolved through our happily married years into an ongoing project to visit as many other states as possible, see what they have that we don’t, and filter the results through our peculiar sensibilities.
For some families, vacation means picking a campground, braving the wilderness, and hiking until everyone succumbs to bug bites. For some, vacation means a beach, too much alcohol, and sunburns severe enough to scald away the worst hangover. For me as a child, vacation was visiting elderly relatives and napping on their furniture until time to leave. For my wife as a child, vacationing was something other families did because they had spare money.
Today we keep our own agenda. Finding creative ways to spend quality time together. Searching for tourism options that wouldn’t occur to our peers. Scouring for surprises in unusual places. Sometimes investigating the popular destinations when their claims to fame intersect our fields of interest or just pique our curiosity.
We’re the Goldens. This is who we are and what we do.
Right this way for a brief overview of this year’s road trip!
This mural was one of several painted on the floodwalls that separated downtown Paducah from the banks of the Ohio River. It’s the only one I photographed and therefore the greatest of them all, probably.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Once upon a time in 2001, my best friend and I chose a summertime destination different from the conventions we’d attended the two previous years. At the southern tip of Illinois and across the Ohio River from Paducah, KY, the small town of Metropolis devotes the second weekend of every June to their world-famous Superman Celebration.
Yes, Metropolis was fun and the Celebration itself had its share of vivid personalities and eye-catching exhibitions, but far be it from us to drive three hundred miles, engage in a single activity, then do an about-face and retreat without surveying some of the nearby environs. Because road-trip science demanded further investigation.
Right this way for preserved bits and pieces of Paducah from fourteen years ago!
Look, up on the bucket list! It’s a bird sanctuary! It’s a plane hangar! It’s the SUPER MUSEUM!
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Once upon a time in 2001, my best friend and I chose a summertime destination different from the conventions we’d attended the two previous years. At the southern tip of Illinois and across the Ohio River from Paducah, KY, the small town of Metropolis devotes the second weekend of every June to their world-famous Superman Celebration.
Much of the Superman Celebration is like any small-town carnival party: a mix of great local foods and pro concession stands; traveling amusement park rides; amateur sports competitions; a parade or two; a group community yard sale; and things like that. But every small-town carnival party committee in America wishes it had a tourist attractor as heroic as the Super Museum.
The two of us have attended the Superman Celebration four times. This was our first group shot with their iconic statue. Photo by some fellow tourist with no concept of how centering works.
Every year since 1999 Anne and I have taken a road trip to a different part of the United States and seen wonders, constructs, architecture, and events we didn’t have back home in Indianapolis. From 1999 to 2003 we did so as best friends; from 2004 to the present, as husband and wife. My son tagged along from 2003 until 2013 when he ventured off to college. In later years those trips took the form of cross-country drives to other states, passing by odd roadside attractions to see historically significant locales, world-famous landmarks, and/or pretty natural scenery. For our first four trips, we were all about geek-centric gatherings.
Once upon a time in 2001, my best friend and I chose a summertime destination different from the conventions we’d attended the two previous years. At the southern tip of Illinois and across the Ohio River from Paducah, KY, the small town of Metropolis devotes the second weekend of every June to their world-famous Superman Celebration. More than just a carnival acknowledging their local heritage and history, the Celebration invites tourists from all walks to come join in their festivities, as well as actors from various Superman movies, TV shows, and other related Super-works who come in for autographs and Q&As.
The 37th annual Celebration is coming up this weekend, June 11-14, 2015. We regret we’ll be missing this one due to other commitments, but in honor of that special occasion, we dug through our scrapbooks and photo albums to unearth our 35mm souvenirs of the very first time we visited the self-styled real-world hometown of the Man of Steel.
Right this way for classic shots of Superman’s kind of town!
One of the many vehicles that missed the cut for Part 29 was the Bi-Centennial Money Car, a ’76 Cadillac covered in pennies. Some things you’re really curious about, and then some things you realize you’d rather not ask.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: we guided you through our annual road trip in thirty-two episodes, from Indianapolis to Minnesota/St. Paul to Fargo to home again. In our grand finale: one last round of outtakes from everywhere and everything else we saw besides Minnesota, all kinds of little bonus moments in between the shots in the previous chapters. Sure, I could’ve simply done a more thorough job of vetting photos the first time around and made the previous entries twice as long, but then what would I do for outtakes?
Alternate closeup of “The Source” in Rice Park, a gift to the city from the erstwhile Women’s Institute of St. Paul. in Part 16 I posted a wider shot from the other side that captured the whole fountain and a few gratuitous, ubiquitous cranes.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
With each year’s travelogue we like to conclude with a second-chance review through the hundreds of photos we took to see which photos were unfairly cut from the final roster, which ones didn’t fit into the narrative but possess their own merit, and/or which ones slipped through the cracks for no valid reason…
In the penultimate chapter of our 33-part saga, we take a look back at scenes from Minnesota, mostly the Twin Cities, that were skipped the first time around for a variety of reasons. No photographer shares every shot they take, but sometimes a few keepers get unfairly lost in the shuffle.
Right this way for one final mini-tour through the North Star State!
This “Starry Night” buffalo was one of several unexpected sights we saw while driving but weren’t in a position to pull over for careful posing. I slowed my roll, my wife got the shot, and then I totally overlooked it while I was compiling the Day 5/6 Fargo/Moorhead pics. Let’s just pretend we were saving the best buffalo for last.
With each year’s travelogue we like to conclude with a second-chance review through the hundreds of photos we took to see which photos were unfairly cut from the final roster, which ones didn’t fit into the narrative but possess their own merit, and/or which ones slipped through the cracks for no valid reason. The eight pics in this first set of outtakes share a common bond: all were taken on the way there and back again while our vehicle was in motion. No brakes, no setup, just snapping as quickly as we could. It’s all a part of the MCC No Attraction Left Behind initiative.
(As always, photos are clickable for enlargement and resolution and such.)
“Bike rack pig, bike rack pig! Did whatever a bike rack did! Holds a bike while you walk! Stymies thieves, bring a lock! Hey, there! Chain to the bike rack pig!”
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
For the last few years, my wife and I have spent our respective birthdays together finding some new place or attraction to visit as a one-day road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on this most wondrous day, partly to explore areas of Indiana we’ve never experienced before. My 2015 birthday destination of choice: the city of Fort Wayne, some 100+ miles northeast of here. It’s home to several manufacturing concerns, one major insurance company, a selection of buildings with historical importance to the locals, and a small comic book convention I’d never heard of before this year. We checked out the area, we found ways to enjoy ourselves, we got some much-needed exercise, and we took photos.
Part Two was our visit to the fourth annual Appleseed Comic Con; Part Three was a tour of Fort Wayne’s History Center. In this, the finale: art for bikes’ sake.
Indiana comes alive through all the exhibits at Fort Wayne’s History Center, except for this surly mannequin serving consecutive sentences for crimes of fashion.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
For the last few years, my wife and I have spent our respective birthdays together finding some new place or attraction to visit as a one-day road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on this most wondrous day, partly to explore areas of Indiana we’ve never experienced before. My 2015 birthday destination of choice: the city of Fort Wayne, some 100+ miles northeast of here. It’s home to several manufacturing concerns, one major insurance company, a selection of buildings with historical importance to the locals, and a small comic book convention I’d never heard of before this year. We checked out the area, we found ways to enjoy ourselves, we got some much-needed exercise, and we took photos.
Fort Wayne’s tourism documents pitch a number of downtown leisure options for curious visitors — an art museum, an arboretum, their minor-league baseball stadium (home of the Fort Wayne TinCaps), a museum of religious artifacts dating back to the 13th century (closed weekends, alas), courthouse tours, and so on. After much consideration and random wandering, we settled for a post-lunch tour of their History Center. My wife is a history buff. I like places made of exhibits. Best of all, it was just three blocks east of where we had lunch. Who could deny so many converging criteria?
Freimann Square Park, an eminently photogenic city block in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
It’s that time of year again! As of today I’m now 43 years old and trying not to obsess on the fact that I know at least three different guys who died at that exact age, including a near-forgotten high school acquaintance who popped up in last Thursday’s Obituaries section of the local paper.
…CUT. Forget that paragraph. Maybe we’ll set that aside for another, drearier time. Let’s start over.
For the last few years, my wife and I have spent our respective birthdays together finding some new place or attraction to visit as a one-day road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on this most wondrous day, partly to explore areas of Indiana we’ve never experienced before. My 2015 birthday destination of choice: the city of Fort Wayne, some 100+ miles northeast of here. It’s home to several manufacturing concerns, one major insurance company, a selection of buildings with historical importance to the locals, and a small comic book convention I’d never heard of before this year. We checked out the area, we found ways to enjoy ourselves, we got some much-needed exercise, and we took photos.
Imagine it: a syndicated series called Ebert & Golden and the Movies. Every episode would’ve been thirty minutes of Ebert talking cinema and me nodding my head, taking notes, and silently scrunching up my face if I disagreed.
Welcome to my third annual Roger Ebert entry!
On the occasion of the noted film critic’s passing on April 4, 2013, I wrote at length about the impact he and his partner/rival/dear friend Gene Siskel had on me at an impressionable age. In 2014 I wrote about Steve James’ documentary Life Itself, which unexpectedly became a chronicle of Ebert’s final days as cancer took its toll. (We’ve also visited the Chicago theater named after Siskel, but that doesn’t count. Wrong guy.)
Here we are again with another Ebert tribute after a brief stopover in his hometown. We weren’t even supposed to be there that day.
At conventions we’ve seen a 1966 Batmobile and one of Nolan’s Bat-Tumblers, but the Batman Returns Batmobile was an elusive quarry…until now.
Day Seven. The end of our road trip was nigh. Eight hours and 500+ miles separated us from home, but the vacation wasn’t over yet. In the past we’ve always felt let down when our final day’s stops were just for food, gas, and bathrooms. That’s no fun, memorable way to conclude your year’s best adventure. This time we founds a few notable places along the way that we’d overlooked in previous years. One of them was full of cars.
Whenever we drive home to Indianapolis on Saturday night after C2E2 or Wizard World Chicago, our last stop before returning to Indiana is nearly always for late supper at this tiny, grungy McDonald’s in the middle of the Chicago Skyway. The drive-thru serves the westbound lanes, while a handful of parking spaces are available on the eastbound side. Pedestrians have to mind the mild danger of trying to enter or exit their cars while other drivers pull in and hopefully slow down from 80 to 5 so they can pick up one of those famous Extra Values Meals that’ll provide them just enough pep to reach their hometown awake and alive.
At first we used to stop there each time because it’s the most convenient pit stop on I-90 — you literally just veer left and there it is, no languorous entrance/exit ramps to add minutes to your long night’s driving — but in recent years it’s earned the cachet of tradition. The above photo was taken from its parking lot after Wizard World Chicago 2013, one of those rare times we stayed too late for the Costume Contest and found ourselves ravenous by the time we got to “our” supper dive.
…
On a related note, we are now officially home from C2E2 in the middle of the night and ready to collapse. Stories to share, photos to post, exhaustion to overcome, memories to treasure, achievements to celebrate, and discussions to be had about procedural changes for future convention experiences.
Later for all that. Photo parades begin tomorrow. Bedtime now.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 