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Apr. 9th, 2008 03:59 pmThe lack of a computer at home is still making me nuts. Too much to write, not enough to time to write it. What else is new?
Faire is next weekend. I'm asking myself the usual question of why I do it, and keep coming up with the same answers. I enjoy it. Just showing up for a day as a playtron- or even just working Students isn't enough immersion. I work where I work because I'm too lazy/forgetful/fearful/ whatever to actively look for employment elsewhere in the festival, and- at least this is the part I'm pretty much just telling myself- the money doesn't matter. There are also worse places to work, and reiterating point one, I enjoy it.
It's weird. I grew up around the festival, but only sort of. My dad was the piper at the faire years ago when it first opened. I wandered around the faire grounds like any good pre-teen I wandered around the festival grounds absorbing as much I could, learning to bang on trees with and asking Dad repeatedly if I could have money to buy a chain mail shirt. Several years later, I remember Dad and Jim Kirkpatrick (who supplied the faire with Scotsmen) hanging around Jim's tent after the festival telling war stories like old men do.
The weirdness is that at the time I never thought about Rennie Culture or the like. It was pretty much just another one of Dad's piping jobs. I'll go so far as to say he tried to insulate me from most of it- most likely because of all traveling riffraff and pagans who may or may not have been the same people. (Yay for having conservative Anglican parents who work in the Federal Prison System!)
Anyway if you find yourself being hawked at by loud man in a very loud kilt, stop by, say hi, and spend money.
Faire is next weekend. I'm asking myself the usual question of why I do it, and keep coming up with the same answers. I enjoy it. Just showing up for a day as a playtron- or even just working Students isn't enough immersion. I work where I work because I'm too lazy/forgetful/fearful/ whatever to actively look for employment elsewhere in the festival, and- at least this is the part I'm pretty much just telling myself- the money doesn't matter. There are also worse places to work, and reiterating point one, I enjoy it.
It's weird. I grew up around the festival, but only sort of. My dad was the piper at the faire years ago when it first opened. I wandered around the faire grounds like any good pre-teen I wandered around the festival grounds absorbing as much I could, learning to bang on trees with and asking Dad repeatedly if I could have money to buy a chain mail shirt. Several years later, I remember Dad and Jim Kirkpatrick (who supplied the faire with Scotsmen) hanging around Jim's tent after the festival telling war stories like old men do.
The weirdness is that at the time I never thought about Rennie Culture or the like. It was pretty much just another one of Dad's piping jobs. I'll go so far as to say he tried to insulate me from most of it- most likely because of all traveling riffraff and pagans who may or may not have been the same people. (Yay for having conservative Anglican parents who work in the Federal Prison System!)
Anyway if you find yourself being hawked at by loud man in a very loud kilt, stop by, say hi, and spend money.
