Faire Rundown, Week Four
It was, to put it mildly, an interesting weekend.
Saturday
I got out there early, expecting that I had an 8:30 AM meeting of street area managers, of which, I was to be one on Saturday, since the Intense Rodentia was not present. Well, upon arrival in the morning, the Gypsy Queen called an audible. I was going into a neighborhood group, and another street person was taking the area manager duties for the day.
As I was told, in not so many words, I do a better job of leading by example, then in any managerial capacity. My evil, it seems, knows no bounds. WAUGH, WAUGH.
The early AM had me working a bit with Spud McKenzie, and I found I still have stellar skills as a wingman. I found a girl who followed him around, quite literally all day. She even introduced him to her mother. I doubt his plans involved the back of a Volkswagen, though. He's a nice boy.
Anyway, I power-grovelled at around 11AM, and would regret it the rest of the weekend. Never before have I managed to land on my crossbow quite like this. I felt pain, quite literally, from the point of impact on my quadricep, down to my knee, which felt stiff, as if blood or fluid had hit within the joint itself. The bruise managed to stay up north, but man... I was hurting the rest of the weekend.
In spite of this, I soldiered on, and spent the rest of my day trying to start working a bit with the Corduroy Squire. Seems we just kept missing each other. In my attempts to meet up with him, though, I managed to discover a not-terribly secret location on site where people have gone during the day to do things of less than scrupulous intent. We'll see how long the continue to do so before security finds 'em.
Finished out the day, not spending much of any time at the village, to speak of, instead trying to get the crowd out of the way of the royal procession at 4:30 PM as they went to the joust, before heading to WITKIU. We ended up playing, even with the Gypsy Queen herself, who has tried shooing away those who were just squatting on turf for us, and... well... 2 accidents and a DUI on the freeway leaving the show meant we played until literally about 7PM, when we were losing light.
Having the hair in braids for Pirate Weekend was a major point of compliments headed my way. Go figure.
Sunday-
Same drill, sort of. Sunday, I was the Rennie Whisperer. I had to figure out what made other performers tick, and why they weren't happy or thriving, and get them to find it. All the while, to make sure they were still obeying all rules set out for the show. Not an easy task. Hell, in one instance I was asked to by the Mythical Forest Bandit.
I think I succeeded in four of the five instances of question. Corduroy Squire is still a work in progress. But Tragic Beauty, Lass-On-the-Lam, Spud McKenzie, and Husband-Go-Round all seemed to come around as performers on Sunday. Funny, what being a little risque with a classic literary work can do.
And sure, I wasn't doing my own traditional bits, but branching out to help others find ones for themselves. But that's in what's giving to the show.
And, as I thought, I took my braids out and set in for a Fro-Down with the wild-haired one. I actually won, in the popular vote, too. The strange part was having a handful of Tilt Crew and Group C take my hair out for me. Because, while doing so backstage, to set up for the Fro-Down, THE MAN WITH THE MONEY appeared. And, he hung out with us. Really. Sat down, and chatted wih us for like ten minutes. In the back of my mind I'm always wondering if he's going to fire someone or crush them with his wallet. But, it seems like he's in great spirits these past few weeks. Maybe because attendance is holding, nicely, in spite of the economy. And, if the sobriety of our patrons is any indication, liquor sales are WAY UP. That would cheer him, I'd suspect. But yeah, it was a rare, and nice talk. He even gave me Fro-Down advice, which made me picture him with an afro of his own in the seventies.
Other than some performers getting spotted bailing out prior to cannon, I think Whack It still went well.
It was just nice, to play, and teach on Sunday. Oh, and to take it easy and HEAL from that fall on my crossbow from Saturday. Still was smarting.
And that's the abbreviated story. No time for all the details. Bed calls. I have to be up in less than six hours. Pax.
Saturday
I got out there early, expecting that I had an 8:30 AM meeting of street area managers, of which, I was to be one on Saturday, since the Intense Rodentia was not present. Well, upon arrival in the morning, the Gypsy Queen called an audible. I was going into a neighborhood group, and another street person was taking the area manager duties for the day.
As I was told, in not so many words, I do a better job of leading by example, then in any managerial capacity. My evil, it seems, knows no bounds. WAUGH, WAUGH.
The early AM had me working a bit with Spud McKenzie, and I found I still have stellar skills as a wingman. I found a girl who followed him around, quite literally all day. She even introduced him to her mother. I doubt his plans involved the back of a Volkswagen, though. He's a nice boy.
Anyway, I power-grovelled at around 11AM, and would regret it the rest of the weekend. Never before have I managed to land on my crossbow quite like this. I felt pain, quite literally, from the point of impact on my quadricep, down to my knee, which felt stiff, as if blood or fluid had hit within the joint itself. The bruise managed to stay up north, but man... I was hurting the rest of the weekend.
In spite of this, I soldiered on, and spent the rest of my day trying to start working a bit with the Corduroy Squire. Seems we just kept missing each other. In my attempts to meet up with him, though, I managed to discover a not-terribly secret location on site where people have gone during the day to do things of less than scrupulous intent. We'll see how long the continue to do so before security finds 'em.
Finished out the day, not spending much of any time at the village, to speak of, instead trying to get the crowd out of the way of the royal procession at 4:30 PM as they went to the joust, before heading to WITKIU. We ended up playing, even with the Gypsy Queen herself, who has tried shooing away those who were just squatting on turf for us, and... well... 2 accidents and a DUI on the freeway leaving the show meant we played until literally about 7PM, when we were losing light.
Having the hair in braids for Pirate Weekend was a major point of compliments headed my way. Go figure.
Sunday-
Same drill, sort of. Sunday, I was the Rennie Whisperer. I had to figure out what made other performers tick, and why they weren't happy or thriving, and get them to find it. All the while, to make sure they were still obeying all rules set out for the show. Not an easy task. Hell, in one instance I was asked to by the Mythical Forest Bandit.
I think I succeeded in four of the five instances of question. Corduroy Squire is still a work in progress. But Tragic Beauty, Lass-On-the-Lam, Spud McKenzie, and Husband-Go-Round all seemed to come around as performers on Sunday. Funny, what being a little risque with a classic literary work can do.
And sure, I wasn't doing my own traditional bits, but branching out to help others find ones for themselves. But that's in what's giving to the show.
And, as I thought, I took my braids out and set in for a Fro-Down with the wild-haired one. I actually won, in the popular vote, too. The strange part was having a handful of Tilt Crew and Group C take my hair out for me. Because, while doing so backstage, to set up for the Fro-Down, THE MAN WITH THE MONEY appeared. And, he hung out with us. Really. Sat down, and chatted wih us for like ten minutes. In the back of my mind I'm always wondering if he's going to fire someone or crush them with his wallet. But, it seems like he's in great spirits these past few weeks. Maybe because attendance is holding, nicely, in spite of the economy. And, if the sobriety of our patrons is any indication, liquor sales are WAY UP. That would cheer him, I'd suspect. But yeah, it was a rare, and nice talk. He even gave me Fro-Down advice, which made me picture him with an afro of his own in the seventies.
Other than some performers getting spotted bailing out prior to cannon, I think Whack It still went well.
It was just nice, to play, and teach on Sunday. Oh, and to take it easy and HEAL from that fall on my crossbow from Saturday. Still was smarting.
And that's the abbreviated story. No time for all the details. Bed calls. I have to be up in less than six hours. Pax.