Flashback to 2004 with our Best Man.
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. It’s who we are and what we do. Well, usually. Preferably.
This year I struggled to pick someplace, anywhere, to hit up for my occasion. Nothing lit a light bulb over my head. Should we explore one of the few Indiana small towns we haven’t already combed over for roadside attractions? Revisit one of the large cities in our neighboring states? Break tradition, stay home and binge-watch? Abandon Anne at home, go out alone, attend the Bad Religion/Social Distortion concert happening that very night in downtown Indy, and unwittingly get my teeth kicked out in an impromptu mosh pit? I hemmed and hawed for weeks.
On Mother’s Day the entire brainstorming list fell down the garbage disposal when unconscionably horrible news struck our family: my cousin Shawn had passed away. I was about to turn 52. He’d just turned 50.
At age 16 the thought of a part-time after-school job never occurred to me until I received a letter one day from a man named David Sleppy, owner/operator of the McDonald’s down the street from my high school. His store had launched a new recruitment program that offered a higher starting wage to applicants who were on the school’s honor roll — $3.85/hour at a time when minimum wage was $3.35/hour. As an introverted, insular kid with no self-awareness and minimal exposure to social worlds beyond my own limited boundaries, it wasn’t tempting until I did the math and realized that $3.85/hour was greater than my $5/week allowance. I figured why not. And hey, the letter guaranteed the job. Back in those days, silver platters were my favorite way of receiving things.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 