Mustard (Ren Fest 2007)

April scored free tickets to the Renaissance Festival for us, Angela and Eric. I had never been. April used to be a regular since this was her sort of thing growing up. I was pretty excited to go, too. (Not so secretly we're both closet geeks.) Three years ago when we got married we'd contemplated having our nuptials at the Ren Fest, complete with costumes. When we arrived the wind was attempting to blow my kilt, sans me, back to Minneapolis. Rain came in driving waves for the first hour or so. We huddled with the peasant masses beneath booth structures and shop awnings.

There was a little something for everyone at the Festival -- from mass consumerism to salsa dancing. Lots of cool animals too. I enjoyed the animals at least as much as Sylvia did.


Elephants are just awesome. It was my sincere hope that they treat their elephants kindly at the Ren Fest.



Horns reminiscent of a bad 90s mtn bike bar design -- the "commuter bar."


Eric made a good point about camels -- they always carry themselves in such a proud, stately manner.


Here Angela test rides a state of the art mode of Renaissance transportation.

Then we got to meet "our" knight at the joust. I forgot his name. The four players really whacked the hell out of one another with real swords, but they were all just a bit too scripted and generally kind of lame. It was a half-step away from WWF action on Pay-per-view. His lady was cute and made up for some of the lameness, but B Rose had pegged the key to the Ren Fest when we stopped by CRC for drinks beforehand -- fake British accents. She had one and it was liltingly annoying like a bad nanny making you scrub your sibling's vomit off the floor.


Our green knight getting ready for action. The whole affair had a disgustingly sexist and misogynist ending. That's all you need to know.

If you venture to the Renaissance Festival and don't experience your inner pagan screaming to be let out you might want to check your vital signs. April and I got to daydream about how our yard will look when we eventually do own a home of our own.

This critter was something else. He tooled around the grounds with his companion trailing behind, mystifying crowds of people and parting from them loads of their cash. I got a good vibe from the turtle, like he was someone you could hang out and chat with over a hearty ale.

Daddy grabs a snack -- a Scotch egg with horseradish sauce. Yummy and Heart Healthy, too! Don't let the sausage layer fool you.

April befriends the dragon. No damsel in distress here.

It took me a while to realize that when they asked if I had any weapons at the gate, they might have meant something entirely different than a Glock.

This fellow is fully accoutred. I spied him while standing in line for the Queen's High Tea. The High Tea was a let down. Not only were we pointedly subjected to a myriad of bad British accents, but they had the nerve to tell us the only bevvies they had were lemonade and chamomile tea! A British tea, high tea with the Queen nonetheless, without proper black tea?! I was tempted to revolt and make all our peasant forebears rejoice in their graves. It was the last weekend of the festival and I'm sure the servers didn't give a damn that they were out of Lipton's. A pox on them!

Eric was kind enough to relieve me from pack duty for a while. Here Sylvia seems to be pointing out something we haven't seen yet. There was too much to see. Next year we'll plan to go a couple of weekends. I'm even considering a costume (an excuse to buy a real kilt). April is thrilled.

The booth was called "Vegetable Vengeance." The fellow acting as target was throwing out some of the best one-liners I have ever heard. Nacey should come along next time so we can take notes. This guy was good -- really good.

I've always believed the family that dresses like freaks together stays together. This scaly leather armor was not cheap I'm sure. Good thing the chap can get double, even triple, duty wearing it to biker rallies and fringe festivals along with some ass-out chaps.

Pickle vending proved a bit slow with the intermittent rain. The vendors exercised their creativity by mocking up bloody pickle battles.

April was happier after she broke down and got her palm reading. The news she delivered from the psychis had a lot to do with me. It sounds like I'm going to continue to be very busy for the next few years. Anyway, she celebrated with a turkey leg! I nursed the contents of my fancy new double capacity wooden beer mug.

The parting shot -- we stayed 'til the end -- ground littered with turkey shanks, Solo cups, and miscellaneous trinkets. Sadly, it sounds like the Renaissance Festival has lost its lease on this plot of land. I hope they relocate close by for next year.