Turkey Leg . . .

I had the distinct pleasure (that is sarcasm) of attending my first Renaissance Festival yesterday. I will admit that I was skeptical going in. I've never really understood the notion of visiting an era that we, in 2015, don't really understand and have a very romanticized memory of and for. And I've certainly never understood why we approach these things in costumes ranging from vaguely period-specific to Frederick's of Hollywood's Halloween Collection.

Never-the-less we went and partook in the festivities for not only a random Sunday but the nuptials of a family/life-long friend of SLF and her family. Yes. People get married at the Ren Faire (as the vendors and costumed call it - modifying "fest" with "faire"). Granted we didn't actually go to the ceremony (private affair in the "Tea Garden" (where they neither grow nor serve tea)) but we did get to not only see but WATCH all the people. ALL the people. And that made me very happy.

Truth be told there were plenty of things to like about the Ren Faire:

  1. We ate turkey legs for lunch. HUGE, likely steroid-enhanced turkey legs that were smoked forever and tasted truly amazing. 
  2. Then there were hundred and hundreds of sets of these jiggling about. What's not to like about that?
  3. The kids had an amazing time and I was amazed to see how many rides and attractions that we let kids enjoy at 21st century carnivals that recreated (to run on human power). 
  4. How friggin' NICE everyone was. You couldn't tell people who worked there vs. people who were escaping their own lives there but everyone would help point things out - like where to get the aforementioned turkey legs.
  5. The reprieve from Chiefs, Royals, Shockers, Jayhawks, and Wildcats gear that we're generally deluged with on Sundays (I mean - it was there but just far, far less).
  6. We spent a full day as a (larger) family and - due to shoddy reception - no one escaped/withdrew in to their phones and no one ignored the day.
  7. Archery was there. People (vendors and amateur guests alike) shooting long, modified recurve, cross, and modified bows to the great delight of them . . . and me.
  8. How quickly I developed Stockholm Syndrome and wanted to buy ALL the stuff. Hats? Socks? Rope sandals? Fairy wings? Magic wands? Pirate eye patches? Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Let's do it. I did spring for a photo of my daughter in the "Fairy Garden" (where you essentially rent a costume long enough for a few photos to be snapped) and a hair clip and magic wand but - hey - when held captive . . . 
  9. The stories we can and will tell for the foreseeable future - if not ever including the dude in the pirate-themed zubaz pants who was clearly aroused by the many, many sets of these flitting about.
  10. Turkey legs. Big, big turkey legs. Delicious, delicious turkey legs.
I won't soon return to "the Faire" but - I might, in time, go back.