ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (10-11-18)
Last Sunday your faithful travel correspondent (that's me) took a ride to the town of Tuxedo to check out the New York Renaissance Faire. We had never been up there, and had no idea what to expect. The Faire is a bit of a mish-mosh of all kinds of fantasy and reality, but I had already temporarily suspended all belief back in the parking lot, where I took it on faith that I would be able to get back out of my space when I left. If you walk around the Faire long enough, you'll see a little of everything: pirates, Robin Hood, Games of Thrones, archery, falconry, fair maidens, flagons and dragons, jesters and jousters. There are also camel rides, and I'm not sure how camels fit into this scheme, but if you ask a camel a question like that, you're not likely to like the answer.
Many people either show up in period costume, or they dress like that all the time. There's a lot of "thee," "thy" and "thou," and everyone refers to each other as "M'lord," "M'lady" or "M'gender non-specific individual." The girls all look great- they wear their corsets on the outside where you can see how much time it took to put them on, and there isn't a boyish figure that can't be made bustier by a bustier. The experience has an other-worldly feel to it, as if you are attending a red-headed petting zoo. Some had dipped into the grog a bit, perhaps imbibed a yard or two of ale. In fact there may have been a yard sale going on over by Sherwood Forest.
There was an archery exhibition, and I was hoping someone would try to shoot an apple off somebody's head, or vice versa. The contest came down to a final between a fair maiden and a Robin Hood-looking dude. Robin Hood was the guy who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, way before the democrats made it an art form. How hard could the sport of archery be? There's an arrow pointing RIGHT AT the target! I would bet you ten bucks that there's a sports book on everything that happens at this place. As the fair maiden drew back her bow, the audience was in a quiver, and so were the arrows. She let one fly, straight and true, but victory was elusive for the lady this day....
We made our way over to the Roselawn field to check out the joust, and I really wasn't expecting much. But as we watched Sir Edgeron of Aquataine face Don Vincenzo di Sicilia, I was cheering along with everybody else. A hearty "HUZZAH!" can clear cobwebs out of your soul that you didn't even know were there. Even though I knew for certain that these two guys atop their horses were going to jab at each other with their lances, it was still less predictable than the N.Y. Giant offense. You could tell that there was some trash-talking going on, some disparaging remarks about you and the horse you rode in on. The contestants were covered from head to toe in armor, and if it was me up on that horse I would have 86-ed the lance and brought an electric can opener instead.
After that we dropped in on a performance of "Cirque du Sewer," an adorable show consisting of some acrobatics and some wild animal taming. It was a gal, her boyfriend, her trained cat and her trained rat. If the cat was trained better she probably wouldn't still have the rat. The cat did a few tricks when it felt like it, you know how cats are, and the rat just seemed glad to get out of his house, which is by definition a rat-hole. The girl was quite endearing and quite limber.
Then we watched a glass blower from Snake Oil Glassworks plying her trade. She was finishing up a beautiful mug, exacting work, and I was just hoping she wouldn't ruin it, but in the end, she blew it.
By the late afternoon I was bushed from all the activities and retreated to the parking lot, dragon my tired self back to the car. I wasn't used to the enchanting pace. But the cast members were enthusiastic throughout. They are true professionals who tour the country sharing their skills and talents. The recurring theme that we noticed throughout the festival was that not one performer took themselves too seriously. A sense of humor and poking a little fun at oneself could go a long way in this world. Maybe they could use a little of that in Congress. I imagined that this was a pretty healthy way of looking at things, until I imagined Mitch McConnell in a puffy shirt and tights.
Last Sunday your faithful travel correspondent (that's me) took a ride to the town of Tuxedo to check out the New York Renaissance Faire. We had never been up there, and had no idea what to expect. The Faire is a bit of a mish-mosh of all kinds of fantasy and reality, but I had already temporarily suspended all belief back in the parking lot, where I took it on faith that I would be able to get back out of my space when I left. If you walk around the Faire long enough, you'll see a little of everything: pirates, Robin Hood, Games of Thrones, archery, falconry, fair maidens, flagons and dragons, jesters and jousters. There are also camel rides, and I'm not sure how camels fit into this scheme, but if you ask a camel a question like that, you're not likely to like the answer.
Many people either show up in period costume, or they dress like that all the time. There's a lot of "thee," "thy" and "thou," and everyone refers to each other as "M'lord," "M'lady" or "M'gender non-specific individual." The girls all look great- they wear their corsets on the outside where you can see how much time it took to put them on, and there isn't a boyish figure that can't be made bustier by a bustier. The experience has an other-worldly feel to it, as if you are attending a red-headed petting zoo. Some had dipped into the grog a bit, perhaps imbibed a yard or two of ale. In fact there may have been a yard sale going on over by Sherwood Forest.
There was an archery exhibition, and I was hoping someone would try to shoot an apple off somebody's head, or vice versa. The contest came down to a final between a fair maiden and a Robin Hood-looking dude. Robin Hood was the guy who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, way before the democrats made it an art form. How hard could the sport of archery be? There's an arrow pointing RIGHT AT the target! I would bet you ten bucks that there's a sports book on everything that happens at this place. As the fair maiden drew back her bow, the audience was in a quiver, and so were the arrows. She let one fly, straight and true, but victory was elusive for the lady this day....
We made our way over to the Roselawn field to check out the joust, and I really wasn't expecting much. But as we watched Sir Edgeron of Aquataine face Don Vincenzo di Sicilia, I was cheering along with everybody else. A hearty "HUZZAH!" can clear cobwebs out of your soul that you didn't even know were there. Even though I knew for certain that these two guys atop their horses were going to jab at each other with their lances, it was still less predictable than the N.Y. Giant offense. You could tell that there was some trash-talking going on, some disparaging remarks about you and the horse you rode in on. The contestants were covered from head to toe in armor, and if it was me up on that horse I would have 86-ed the lance and brought an electric can opener instead.
After that we dropped in on a performance of "Cirque du Sewer," an adorable show consisting of some acrobatics and some wild animal taming. It was a gal, her boyfriend, her trained cat and her trained rat. If the cat was trained better she probably wouldn't still have the rat. The cat did a few tricks when it felt like it, you know how cats are, and the rat just seemed glad to get out of his house, which is by definition a rat-hole. The girl was quite endearing and quite limber.
Then we watched a glass blower from Snake Oil Glassworks plying her trade. She was finishing up a beautiful mug, exacting work, and I was just hoping she wouldn't ruin it, but in the end, she blew it.
By the late afternoon I was bushed from all the activities and retreated to the parking lot, dragon my tired self back to the car. I wasn't used to the enchanting pace. But the cast members were enthusiastic throughout. They are true professionals who tour the country sharing their skills and talents. The recurring theme that we noticed throughout the festival was that not one performer took themselves too seriously. A sense of humor and poking a little fun at oneself could go a long way in this world. Maybe they could use a little of that in Congress. I imagined that this was a pretty healthy way of looking at things, until I imagined Mitch McConnell in a puffy shirt and tights.
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