Monday, August 31, 2015

Ren Fair

With our goofy schedule, Sundays are really our only day to function as a family. And rather than function as a normal family (staring silently into our screens, never acknowledging each other), we’ve been diving into highly orchestrated mini adventures. We then take that day’s worth of fun and spread it thinly over the rest of the week.

Yesterday morning, Diana suggested we all go to the Renaissance Fair just over the Wisconsin border. No one really knew what a Ren Fair was. We thought it might be like the Harry Potter section of Universal Studios. Some kind of sterilized version of England with some paid actors donning crowns and a couple Ye Olde Turkey Leg stands.

We were wrong.

This particular Ren Fair seemed to focus on recreating the filth, disease and debauchery of Medieval England. There was an edge and back alley darkness to the proceedings. I was fairly sure I could acquire a filthy prostitute or a knife wound with very little effort. Oh, and it smelled like pee.

The boys loved it.

I tried to strike the balance of encouraging Elijah and Luca to enjoy the day, but not too much. I worried about losing them to Renaissance culture the way I worry about losing them to hard drugs.

Diana reminded me just how many Star Wars t-shirts there were in the crowd. Yeah, but Star Wars isn’t filled with creepy nerds who hang out in conventions, dressing up in revealing and strange outfits and probably do it after hours. Oh, right. But Star Wars has laser guns. So there.

I begged Luca and Eli to let me take their photo with the leather panty-wearing woman with the twin broadswords. Or at least one pair of heaving bosoms. They said they would if I agreed to fight one of the foam sword demonstrators in the mud pit.

I contemplated the angry, greasy haired men who didn’t even bother wearing period clothes. They were just there for the sword violence. I demurred after seeing the big one dispatch a foe with flick of his wrist and bellow a war cry.

We walked away with a couple new wooden swords, a few plastic gold pieces and sincere desire to never go there again and come back year after year.

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