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I thought I now had answers for every occasion, but shortly after opening gate on Sunday morning a teenaged girl in peasant garb came up to me and asked in Faire accent, "May I ask you one question, sir, why are you wearing women's clothes?" I answered like I usually do, "Because it's fun", but then she said to me, "You are a DRUNK, sir, a VERY evil man", as she walked away in a well performed huff. I was totally not expecting that one, so I didn't have a comeback.

The weather on Saturday, Oct.13, started out overcast in the 50's, and a 15-20 mph. wind that produced an uncomfortable chill. I sat for a while in Arachne's booth listening to many tales of dissatisfaction with the owner of the festival and how hard it was to make money as a vendor - a glimpse into dark spaces beneath the glow that I kind of knew had to be there. I decided even more that the way for me to best continue doing my own thing would be to limit by level of involvement in Faire to what it is now - paying playtron who is free to roam the shire at will without any schedule. Much of my act is simply walking around and being seen got up the way I am, blowing a few minds, and this could never be according to the rules of periodness. I'd feel like I'm in jail tied down to a booth, and almost the same being a musician rushing from one stage to the other with half hour breaks to do it in. My pay for my participation is best not in the form of money.

By about 11 the clouds blew away, and it was sunny for the rest of the weekend, but never out of the 60's. You felt cold when out of the sun, and I expanded my garb with a hooded cape, like a Little Pink Riding Hood.

I encountered Bruce from Oklahoma as Three Pints Gone was winding up their set at Hunter's Glen. He introduced himself simply as Bruce, which I didn't connect at first. "Don't you remember, you just advised me last night about the tests on AFR?" He had to flesh out the story a bit more before I finally made the connection. (And this might be why he thought I was just waking up, as he said in his post. I was quite awake, thank you. How can one still be asleep after dancing in six-eight time as I had beenn doing not too much earlier? I met Idone DeClare when I was at Arachne's, and a few hours later she gave me the RenGeek test. It was only five oral questions, all simple to anyone who has been reading the group, the first one of which was just "Do you know what AFR stands for?" There was no need for the slight nervousness I had before it. She gave me a pewter pin to put on my bodice, and start my own fruit salad. (Many of the Faire veterans have chests of medals like a Soviet general.)

The funniest memory is of when I happened in on the Best Tights Contest, when it looked like it was already about halfway thru. I was attracted by the sound of the cheering women. When the tables were turned, the ladies showed me they were just as capable of making and enjoying loud crude remarks as the men. It was just like the audience at the strip show bar. But the gents on display seemed to be enjoying it even more.

When I came in, they were having the "promenade" portion, where the men strutted across the stage flexing their legs and showing off their buns. This was followed by the "hand kissing" competition, where two women traded off being the object of woos by the men, sometimes with gushy flowery words before and after. There were displays of tongue action on the ladies wrists, and of fanning the face after by the ladies, all to loud WOO's and cheers from the audience. There was one man in a kilt, and it was decided to let him in. As he was doing the hand kissing, two women on the side of the stage made a show of crouching down to see under the kilt, expressing loudly their disappointment at not quite making it. When he got down on one knee, they rushed around to the other side to get a better view.

When the contestants lined up for the final judging by the applause of the audience, it was loudly requested that they turn their backs to the crowd, and this was done.

As I cruised the grounds I continued to contemplate something I have for weeks: I find it somewhat ironic that all these people who are interested in swords and chain mail, who like to play act at violence and make comedy out of it, who delight in bawdy humor and behavior that feminists would condemn as disrespectful and sexist, who not only drink alcohol but celebrate it in their songs - create an environment that is actually one of the most peaceful, accepting, and loving that I have ever been in. In spite of the booze being sold and carried about openly, I have never seen large groups of rowdy drunks, those few that I see inebriated are subdued, and the stories I hear about ones getting abusive have so far remained for me just stories. I have never seen myself anybody getting into real fights, like at even the state fair after dark - the reports I hear also remain only reports. An energy is created by all the rennies together that overcomes the mundane and the macho, and converts it to merry camaraderie.

And it goes without saying that alt.fairs.renaissance is the the cuddlebunny huggywuggy group where people cry and cheer on each other's shoulders that everybody on alt.gathering.rainbow and alt.support.anything wishes theirs was - one of the very few that is not stained with endless flame wars. The way of welcoming a newcomer is to describe a pounce, then to follow with warm words in all posts thereafter.

I have hung around other groups of people who preached love and tolerance, but showed themselves with their behavior to be for quite the opposite. Groups who advocate peace, but have among themselves bitter quarrels, feuds, and vendettas. Here at the Faire is a group that is full of talk and acting about apparently the opposite, yet goes about giving hugs and compliments to each other all the time.

I have seen this phenomenon in other places. I remember some young people who always came into the university computer lab in all these in-your-face punk outfits, but were impeccably polite, considerate, and helpful to me when I sat down beside them. "Oh, is my stuff in the way? Here, I'll move it right now. Hey, you said you were looking for a... I'll show you where I found it, look here." I've had similar experiences with guys in full black leather and denim Harley-Davidson attire, ask them respectfully for directions or help and they are quick to oblige.

It's people with Bibles preaching Christian love that you have to watch out for. It's people against cruelty to animals who sometimes will not stop at violence to humans. It's people full of words of peace and love that can be the most hateful and combative. Maybe there is a rule here, you can always expect behavior just the opposite of what is advocated. If they say they love me, I'd better run like hell; if they say they hate me, here is where I can find true friends.

Unfortunately, this hasn't always worked out. I have found some who preach fighting who practice what they preach (and others who preach love who actually make that a reality). Still, the contents can be expected to be contrary to the cover with regularity in a lot of life.

"Well, what a long strange trip it's been" (© Deadheads, 1970's). Or maybe more accurately, what a short trip it was, but so turgidly intense. From occasional mundane dropper-in to garbed Rennie with the start of a bemedaled chest in only seven short weeks.

I know that right now I am in the newly converted bliss-ninny stage. I haven't really started to try initiating things involving the cooperation and obedience of other people, and run into the frustrations that always come with that. I have to assume, on my experience with all the other subcultures that I have entered, that partial disillusion will come surely as autumn follows summer, and there will be a winter that challenges me until the spring comes again and it all settles into Indian summers. But I'm on a rush now, and "haven't felt like this my dear, since can't remember when, it's been a long, long, time..."

And again I want to thank - as everyone watches on the World Wide Web - Josephine Marie Thane as I did in person as we were leaving thru the gate at the close of Sunday. You were the catalyst that started this reaction. Shortly after I came thru the gate I saw your AFR tag and talked to you about the group, and this gave me the idea of delurking. Then I saw how you were dressed as you were performing at Dinwoodie Dell, and knew I could be too, and was pushed to finally go and buy the garb as I had been thinking of for four years. And the rest is history...

THE END

(of the beginning)

-Butterfly Bill

"Greetings, milady...or is it milord?...or..um...."
RenGeek
First Rogu'ench of Renntopia
homepage: http://www.grapevine.net/~butterflybill/BB.htm
music on mp3.com: http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/247/butterfly_bill.html>

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