Home

This year's Kansas City Renaissance Festival experience was confined to just the last weekend this year, as I have been in Muskogee, OK, where I am seeking to buy a house, since June. The trees were well into autumn changes and the sun had gotten low in the sky - when I could see it, it was more than just partly cloudy on Saturday. The temperature was cool enough that wind chill was uncomfortable in the shade, and I had on the lavender wench outfit with both skirts and hose beneath, and I was trying to make do with a big pink terrycloth beach towel since my cloak was the one item of garb that was back in storage in Lawrence and not in my van.

The pregate show on Saturday began with the Jolly Rogers coming out on the balcony to sing a song and announce that this years renaissance festival had been canceled, to be replaced by the "pirate festival". They had just kidnapped the Lord Mayor, and turning the show over to them was a condition of his release. Then their Majesties arrived, not knowing this had happened, to be greeted by more pirates. The English royal couple was accompanied by the Spanish one, and the pirates openly discussed divesting them all of their gold and jewels. The Spanish royal guards rose to defend them, and patrons who wanted to cut to the swashbuckling had much to satisfy them, with swordfighting all over the cobblestones, three people scaling knotted ropes up to the balcony, and a flintlock pistol being fired.

His Majesty was still the mythical King Richard IV and Hers was Eleanor, and the garb was Elizabethan even more elaborate than last year. The royal couple was in purple and green and lots of intricate and sparkling gold embroidery. There was also the Spanish royal couple, in black and red and as much shimmering gold. The ruffs behind the Spanish queen's neck rose as high as the top of her head, and the one around the English queen's was flat, but wide enough to be to be lifted as high.

The King had the whole crowd of patrons in front holler together "one, two, three" to signal the cannon shooter (as they had learned to do that amusing morning two years ago when we harked not the cannon's roar but silence), and they opened the gates and let the festival begin. I went over to the jamming tree to find the members of Three Pints Gone, Queen's Gambit, and Tippler's Way present, as well as Lady Nancy, Lord Kerrydwin, and Mark Williams. They were doing jigs when I arrived, and I quickly started pony stepping. Mark asked me if I had brought my harp, I said yes but I need a place to park it, and he said the same shed by the maypole that I used last year.

Then I ducked over to the maypole. I found only two dancers and one fiddler left over from last year. A new man in Gypsy garb was playing the rhythm guitar very effectively, and a cello was hanging on a strap around another bandman's neck as the whole band was standing. There were no recorders or any kinds of flute. Michelle, who was the lead fiddler last year, was now a violinist in noble gown and playing at courtly functions in the scenario, and later in the day she asked me to play the harp with her at Robin Hood's wedding in the chapel at the hour of 5. (There was also a new man playing Robin.)

After briefly observing the maypole scene, I went to the fountain and found Madame Red and all her trollops sitting and standing in a team photo pose in two tiers on the low wall in front of it. Valorie (who had been Angel Bedwell in Commedia Sans Arte) was front row center, and she gave me a come hither stare, and I approached and started to fake going to one of the girls to her side as I was just upon her, but let her envelop me in a hug, which she followed with a lipstick covered smooch on the forehead. I was told that I wasn't supposed to wipe it off, but I did a lot of things the teacher told me not to do back then and I still do.

As the first semihour ended I strolled down to Hunter's Glen, where Queen's Gambit was fixing to play and Brother William was standing there leaning on his staff. Then all the trollops showed up and surrounded him, while the brother's wife Niniana was standing a few feet away with a look of sadistic glee. This was her idea of a birthday present. I was handed his staff for safekeeping while they pawed him up and down and planted enough smooch marks on his face to make him look like his skin had broken out in a disease. Then they departed and I returned his staff, and as I saw the trollops about to disappear around a bend in the road Val turned and called back to me, "We're off to play balls."

But the aftermath of the wenching was not yet over and I wanted to see it all, and then I wanted to politely wait until Q. G. had finished a song, and by the time I got myself away to go in search of the trollops I totally lost track of them. Then I got stopped by a lovely, spirited, and together high school choir singing madrigals at the Da Vinci crane. (These are something mostly unique to KCRF, other faires don't have them as much, and OKRF doesn't at all, and I think it should start.) I figured, well, I can go catch the balls game later, I'm gonna scarf up on this while it's here.

But an hour later I saw Val at the Public House as a wench who was being pressed, and I got a chance to chat with her and she informed me that there was only one game of balls a day, and I missed it. She told me "I won't be there but" to come back to T'ger Togs the next morning at 10:30.

But when I arrived there punctually at half past ten Sunday morning, there was nobody there but T'ger, and while we did have a nice catch up after a few months chat, I still haven't seen anybody play "balls", nor have any clear conception of just what the hell it is, other than it's something they don't want to play in the mud.

After parade Saturday I didn't spend too much more time in free association mode. There were a lot of friend's and acquaintance's acts that I wanted to catch at least once, and I was even having to walk out before the ends of some with my eye on my watch to get to another. (Five minutes can often be barely enough time to get from on end of the shire to another, especially if you want to make detours to the privies.) Tippler's Way was still doing their lush three part harmonies on their choruses, and so was Three Pints Gone with Jimmy, their new guitarist.

And so was Queen's Gambit along with DJ on the fiddle. I beheld them at the Cup and Chaucer that they had praised so much in posts past. This place may have been open and serving last year (I don't drink alcohol for medical reasons, so I don't remember pubs particularly well), but I don't remember it as a music venue. It is a good little box that concentrates the sound with rather little noise coming in from the street outside, but there is room for only ten or so people. (I like the chapel best and the Da Vinci crane least.)

In a decision that makes absolutely no sense at all to me, Commedia Sans Arte was not hired as a team this year. Instead I saw its members farmed out to various other areas of the faire Dean and Marissa had something to do in the scenario, which I wound up seeing only the beginnings and endings of (because they took place at opening gate and last huzzah). Chris and Erin were singing (and concertinaing) with the Loch Ness Minstrels, Valorie was one of Madame Red's girls, and Notty was walking around with a "kiss the shrew, $1" sign.

The chess match was somewhat chaotic, with the person calling the moves on the right side being replaced several times in the script. Just before it they carried out and unrolled a tattered chessboard carpet that looked like it had been thru several battles. The dialog was hard to make out at times, so I just looked at the action without caring about the plot.

This was basically a bagpipe-free weekend. I only heard Lord Kerrydwin for a brief while. In some ways it was refreshing. There are times I like the pipes a lot, but I also like some quiet intervals between. Last year there weren't too many of these; it was bagpipes all day every day. I think they are much more effective when they are confined to the Celtic themed weekends.

The best act that I hadn't seen before was Mental Pause ,"Hot Flash Humor"; three getting-past-middle-aged women singing about the Change of Life along with lots of misandrist jokes. "What is the insensitive area at the end of a weenie? A man." "How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper? Nobody knows, it's never been observed." After some laments about sexual frustration they all pulled out a cucumber, which we found was a rattle when they shaked them in their next song.

They pulled up a victim in mundanes from the audience whom they were going to turn into "a perfect man", and I first wondered if he was going to be surrounded with a tutu again, but they lead him out again from behind a folding screen covered in a Mr. Potato Head costume to which had been added a belt with a codpiece. "He's perfectly tanned all over" "He always has a smile on his face"

(And Axel the Sot no longer graced the stage of the beer garden where you can't buy beer!)

Sunday morning saw the fops (down to two in number) come out on the balcony before the pirates did. They gave a pitch for the Feaste of Fooles, described in the program as a "six course feast fit for the King himself", including "an hour and 45 minutes of non-stop entertainment from Jugglers to Belly Dancers and so much more". A fop asked for anybody in the audience who had bought a ticket to raise their hand, and not a single one went up. The menu was spelled out in the program, and it definitely wasn't Styrofoam container food, and I had briefly contemplated going until I read down to the price: 45 dollars after paying faire admission. In the daily program the price had been lowered to 30, but I still found that on the steep side, and apparently other people were agreeing with me. I might could be talked into 20, if there are some things that I would not see outside in the rest of the faire.

I went thru the gates carrying my harp and headed straight for the maypole. I came back again for the performance an hour later, but decided I shouldn't go on too much more after that because my calluses had gone down after practicing mostly keyboard for the last two months.

I finally had stopped at least once with all the old acts I wanted to greet again in time to get to the Mr. Romance contest on the Three Lions stage. This was the final one where all the winners from the previous day's contests competed for overall champion. It was supposed to be starting at 4:10, but when I got there at that time the preceding act was still going on. (The Ficklebiches were gone, but Alana Fulcher was still doing her battle of the sexes act with Cliff Lawson.) The contest didn't get going until it was almost 4:30. I first thought I was going to have to leave before it ended if I was going to get to the chapel at 5 like I had promised Michelle, but then I saw that the guy playing Robin Hood was one of the contestants.

It was the same burlycue show for women that it was last year with the mostly female audience hooting and hollering as the men in tights bowed toward the women in the balcony above the rear of the stage, presenting their rumps to the audience in front, and as all the contestants removed their shirts. The contestant who seemed to get the biggest audience response was a short guy dressed in burlap rags carrying a mop, and he did a big show of being shy. One of the women MCing the event said that he wouldn't be allowed to continue unless he changed into tights. This he did backstage, and when he came back out he tried to hide himself behind his mop.

But there were 4 female judges from the romance magazine sponsoring the event, and they had one vote each, and the audience reaction was regarded as a fifth one, and personality didn't win over looks this time. The four finalists they chose were the ones with hunky chests and buns, and the cute shy one was eliminated.

And so was Robin Hood, so I left as near to 5 as I could wait, just before the wooing displays began. Then Robin showed up late for his wedding at the chapel, and this was one of the few times I got to see some improvisation at this faire as Little John was sent off to seek him and all got flustered when he came back empty handed. Robin finally did show up and the wedding proceeded as planned, and later at the Last Huzzah the winner was introduced. He was the one with the best pectorals.

I caught a little of the Pub Sing, which also started a half an hour late, but I left early to go to the court dance where I put the standing up attachments on my harp and joined the many musicians providing the music.

Thus ended my KCRF visit, the first time I had attended it as an out-of-town event. It was the most expensive RenFaire excursion I have made so far. The best I could find for a motel rate wound up being 51 dollars a night after the "room tax" that is apparently levied only in Kansas City, KS. I've been able to find places for under $30 in Muskogee and Norman, and under 35 in Wentzville and Wichita. (And the room didn't even have a fridge or microwave.)

-Butterfly Bill

"Greetings milord, or is it milady? or, um..."
"So did you lose the bet? No, I won it. He bet me I wouldn't"
http://members.isp.com/farfallabill@isp.com/BB.htm
http://music.download.com/butterflybill
http://www.livejournal.com/users/butterflybill/
real addy: farfallabill (funny looking a) isp [period] com