An oddly busy weekend.

This weekend was actually full. Fuller than I usually like. There after all is something about staring at a wall for the length of a Saturday afternoon and squandering those precious heartbeats one has on this earth. But that can't be helped now.

Where to start? Well, first there was the gathering of Hipsters. Darn they're neat. So much so that I've decided to become one. Anyone know where I can get a Hipster starter kit? I of course will need to get an iPhone and skinny jeans. And is it too late to mock Hipsters? Has that become passe?

I honestly bear Hipsters no real ill will. I have at least one friend that I suspect is a Hipster. How bad does that sound? Wow. Mostly I just buckle to the usual social pressures to gripe about this sub-culture or that (twihards) to struggle for something relatable to say. We live in an us vrs them sort of world.

But no, Hipsters just kind of are as they're out there living their lives and doing their thing. They bother me far less than people who watch reality tv, or sports fanatics. Hipsters are at least(in theory) living their lives and experiencing new things first hand. Good on them as far as I'm concerned, and may they get over the fad with those stupid skinny pants.

Our local hip neighborhood hosted a street faire this weekend. Food, art and live music they promised. We had other plans, but stopped by one of the local eateries that we favor for breakfast. The place is always packed, so we decided to wander around the faire as we waited. It was about as expected. The highpoint was the street poet dressed in what we figured was Hipster motley as he recited verse. Though he could have just been a crazy homeless guy ranting about the moon demons. Either way, I didn't make eye-contact. I get enough face time with the crazies at my job.

So I walked into their faire with my eyes open. It was hard to tell where the Hipster stopped and the Hippie began. Are these two sub-cultures closely related? It would seem to me not really so much. If one ignores the seeming cross-pollination. Where do Hipsters stand on free-love? Cause if that answer comes back positive, I'm off to get my iPhone and skinny jeans today!

Back to the faire, though I don't really know why I bother. It was a couple dozen tents of crafts and what-not, with people of all ages about. At one end there was a band that we were desperately hoping would be packing keytars(maybe even dueling keytars!) But neither of us stuck around long enough to find out.

I walked through later – I've been walking a lot lately, power-hikes through town trying to hit up as many hills as possible. My best distance yet was just over 7 miles, with 5.5+ being about average. Takes about an hour and a half, a large chunk of free-time that I could be using to write. But my ass needs to be firm when the zombies arise! - where was I going with all that? Oh yeah, I returned. And nothing really seemed to change. I just wanted to talk about my exercise routine. Suckers.

Have you ever been to an engagement party? Is that even a thing anymore?

My boss has just become engaged, and many congrats to her. She invited a few of the employees to the shindig. How utterly awkward is this? I don't like hanging out at bars. Period. Spending countless hours with strangers, or co-workers whom I partly know is somewhat stressful. I have very little in common with my fellow employees, less with my employer.

Not showing up seems like a poor life decision, as the boss was kind enough to offer the invitation. So I went. I put on my semi-finest black pants and dark shirt and spent some of the evening trying to fade into the black leather couch that was so conveniently located in the out-cast section. Huzzah for dim lighting and dark clothes.

Neither seemed to work in my favor. I attracted some attention.

After the small talk was made with the people I did know, I spent most of the evening trading stories about the wacky encounters with crazy patients that we've all had. Oh Pharmacy, you certainly do attract the crazy. As I'm sure that anyone who has read past posts know. Many of those very stories were rehashed at the party, and the list gets longer and longer each day.

I was actually asked by a complete stranger what my nationality was. Yeah, really strange that. I'm American, from this very state sir, I replied. But the gentleman in question claimed that I had an accent. Mind, we were in a bar with conversations buzzing all around and I had only spoken a couple sentences, and he was older (I'm implying that he might be a bit hard of hearing – for those who didn't read that far in. *wink wink*) man as well.

I really don't know what to say to that, as even my best Cockney would make Dick Van Dyke cringe in offended horror. But I have a rather plain mid-western accent. Nothing sexy. Unless you have a fetish for those things, then Hello.

This was about the extent of the evening. Free food and awkward chit-chat with coworkers and complete stranger. And far more the former than the latter. The food was very tasty. How's that for an adventure?

Finally there was the Irish Music Festival. We had to travel for this one, something I hate doing on my weekends off. Something about driving every night makes me inclined to avoid cars on the weekend. Oh well. I was invited on the outing, and didn't see anything else happening so I jumped at it. I've not been to a music festival before. So why not?

The layout consisted of fairgrounds on the lake shore and three large pavilions for the acts. A couple tents for the shopping stalls and the usual food vendors that one finds at a summer fair. Most of which had an Irish tint to it. The crowds were light and there was plenty of open space. Not to mention several different displays showcasing glimmers of Irish history – most notably the Irish Wake.

The gift-shops were selling vaguely Irish crap, most of it did not appeal. You know the kind, as it has been distilled and twisted by pop-culture to represent the Irish culture in the States. Bland caricatures and abstractions with their catchphrases.

The word of the day was green, as everything seemed to be awash in every shade of the color. Though looking back I should have gotten myself a kilt. They had some rather solid models on the relative cheap at one of the booths. I still want to get a good kilt.

I am not a fan of Irish music. By this I don't mean that I dislike the genre, I rather enjoy the Gaelic sound, it just isn't part of my daily life. My tastes are generally very broad, and extremely shallow. Does this sound Hipstery? I'm practicing as I await the answer to the above question. The music was enjoyable, the one band I listened to for any length of time. Strange, we drove an hour to get there, and paid $15 at the gate to get in, only to stick around for a couple hours.

Honestly, I went for the same reason I've gone to most of the other festivals, faires and conventions that I've written about. People watching. The pretty girls in their summer clothes really warm the blood of an old man like myself.

The Irish Music Festival was a lot like a comic convention. Though the mix of people was a bit skewed. At the latter, there are about 10 smelly male geeks for every person carrying 2 X genes. And the former? It was overweight, middle aged white people. A mob of them! The pretty girls in their summer clothes? Not so much. 10 to one against. Sad day.

But the music was good. And so was the pizza the the buffet that we stopped at on the way home. Fuck paying faire prices for food.  In the end, I felt quit exhausted while having actually accomplished so very little.

Beer Fest!

Beerfest. Where people drink beer and listen to bands play. A straight-forward and simple plan of action one would be compelled to believe. And they would be right. That's all a beerfest really is. Founders seems to draw two types in particular. The Bros – as there is beer, add that to the fact that there are other Bros to rape, and you get a feeding frenzy. Group two is the Hipsters. Since the festival seemed to be infested with non-hipsters(the Bros as well as others) I'm wondering if the Hipsters are only showing up out of a sense of irony.

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I don't drink. No reason why, I just don't. And I don't have a passion for music. I like music, even love it at times. But there's no burning desire to ensconce myself in front of a stage and press my head against the loudspeaker until my ears bleed. I'm perfectly content with canned music since, unless I'm dumb it doesn't damage what little I still have left of my hearing.

The bands ranged from OK to interesting, what I could hear. Eventually the music was droned out by the noise of conversation. There's that buzz that it becomes when hundreds of people are talking at once and the sounds cease to be meaningless and become noise. Often background noise. When I notice the buzz, it begins to freak me out. The hum is unescapable and wears at my fragile mind.

The noise makes even brief attempts at conversations rather self-defeating, which kills the mental stimulation that I need. Something to think about please. So, I begin to daydream about seeing epic Street Fighter style battles between the Bros and Hipsters. It's great. Just imagine seeing a Hipster yell Haduken! And throwing a ball of energy at a Bro. Fun times.

So, the concept on most levels is rather dull for a non-drinking hermit like myself. The only real draw? People watching. And a truer definition: Oggling Girls in their summer clothes. As I recall, scantily clad members of the female sex is a regular theme here on this blog. Comic con? Girls cosplaying. Rennfest? Girls cosplaying. I am a broken record. But as a creepy old shut-in, girls in revealing outfits are rare indeed in my usual domain. I'm forced to head out into the world to see them in their natural habitat.

This is worth the venture.

Note: Leering and drooling, are not socially acceptable behavior. Just passing on the hard won wisdom.

What else is there to say? The attention whores show up in droves to these events. Much like the cosplayers at nerdier events. Actually, exactly like cosplayers. The most notable was the Ent. See pic below. But others were the hula-hoopers. Dunno how they fit in, but there was a booth renting/selling hula hoops, so it can't be a new phenomenon. Founders Fest was a strange sight, and I am on the fence whether or not I enjoyed it fully.

Unleashing the inner rennie. Twice. I feel so dirty.

- The Gnome Home. Rabid little buggers. -

This has been a summer of firsts for me. First comic con, first time through the Chicago museum circuit. Hear my tale now of the Michigan Rennfest.

I classify myself as a geek. I enjoy movies/tvshows/novels involving science fiction and fantasy. Video and computer games of all sorts. Science and history. Yet despite that I've been self-deprived of geeky gatherings, were my people get together and be what they are. Rabid nerds. The convention, comic or otherwise, is a hotbed of dorkery and a spectacle to be experienced. History and science museums. Both valuable, interesting and entertaining (with the right people). This is my birthright people.

- Gandalf the Potter, recognize! -

No. I'd never been to a rennfest. An admission that must crush my geek cred. I've been passingly curious, but not enough so to actually hit one on my own. I just don't really work like that. I hate to be the sad creepy loner out wandering around in crowds like that. Being a sad creepy loner in the comfort of my own home is fine. I just don't like to put myself on display. Also it was in part that there was no real festival in and about the areas which I lived. Sure, I could have driven several hours to attend, but damn that wouldn't jive with my laziness.

The American Renaissance Festival. I live in a nation that didn't exist when the European Renaissance was in full swing some 600 years ago. The continent was inhabited by civilizations newly discovered(in the minds of my European ancestors) and many of which are now long dead. Despite that, every year across the breadth of this nation there are hundreds of so-called Rennfests. Astonishing. We have about as much claim to the renaissance as Vanilla Ice does to rap music. Or crystal light does to calling a product “Lemonade”. Better to call it powdery water with a flavor reminiscent of citrus. A drink that is a vague childhood memory of what lemonade was actually like – yellow and bittersweet.

That is, we co-opted the European Renaissance and made it our own for the purposes of raking in the cash from suckers who are willing to partake in the spectacle. And spectacle it is. The rennfest is all about spectacle, and is centered on user created content. It's a mishmash of geek culture from the Goths to the furries. Somewhere in the middle lie symbols of the actual historical aspect on which the rennfest is supposedly based. I don't know if the peoples of Europe celebrate the Renaissance in our fashion. I have to doubt it. If anything they probably have festivals that are a mite less shallow and guady. Then again, Disneyland in Paris is the most popular tourist destination in Europe. Maybe it's just a common trait in humans, to take and transform the past to make it seem so much better than it was.

-Ye Old timey Goths. Not succumbing to pleasure. No I wasn't really trying to take a picture of that chick's chest. That was just a happy accident. -

The spectacle is about as historically accurate as a Disney movie. Watered down and made family friendly. Plague, pillage, rape and murder. Gone are the brutality of the times, and in washes a tide of color and idealized imagery. But then it is a faire or a festival. One should expect this. The rennfest becomes rather like a string of late summer Halloweens for adults. A chance to dress up and mingle with other members of an adopted culture. A gathering point for people with similar interests. The renfest is just a convention for a different subset of geeks/nerds/dorks. There is no real need for the festival to resemble reality. People create their own reality.

Then there are a bevy of women wearing scanty costumes and bosom enhancing bodices. Food is plentiful and very tasty and the atmosphere is curious and plesant. So as to say, Fuck accuracy. I really don't want to experience the real thing that badly. The historian in me is curious and a little annoyed at how the world is portrayed and exploited, as I prefer the cold hard facts to some sloppy fiction. But then again, scantily clad women.

The first thing one notices, if they're like me, is that the costume play is far more pronounced at a rennfest than it is at a comic convention. More importantly is the male to female ratio, which is vastly better than the showing at the comic con, closer to a 1:1 basis. Here is a great congregation of female geek folk. The cup runneth over. A big plus. There was a great deal of exposed cleavage, since either standard wenches or pirate wenches are a popular theme. Don't know what they have to do with the renn, but when in Rome appreciate female nudity as the Romans do.

Minuses? Yeah. Inappropriate costuming. Not just the unusual and inexplicable – Please, why were there furries? Were they representing the Japanese medieval period perhaps? – but rather a general disdain for the eyes of the fellow revelers. What has been seen cannot be unseen. Really, if you're 400 pounds and covered in hair, you shouldn't leave your house in a loincloth. This is just good manners. But the disregard seems to be part of the syndrome. Fair enough.

- That bodice is made of leather, and is restraining the goodies within if only just barely. Ensemble is kinda skanky in the Halloween tradition. All in all, I give it an 8. I really need to time travel to the period in history where she took her costume inspiration from. -

Personally I feel no need to dress up. I went wearing my usual adventure pants. Sturdy cargo-pants to soak up the abuse and hold my gear. I was wearing pants and that should be all that is expected. Though I did want to wear a kilt(one with cargo pockets in which to store my gear), but alas, the garment hasn't been finished yet. So next time. I figured the best I could do was to be an obnoxious time tourist, so I brought along a lighter so that I may tantalize the locals with my ability to conjure fire without the use of flint and tinder.

I actually visited the festival twice. Once with the standard crew and a second time to meet the lovely Em.

Evil, the Fat Man and Dutch are all long time festival attendees. Evil actually was active in the festival at her college for a few years. I had no real idea what to expect on going in, though I had heard stories. The stories abounded with crazy. Really, rennies, as Evil tells it, are the outcasts from high school. Outside of the misery that is high school, they gather together, wounded psyches and all, with others of our kind to celebrate their nerdiness...

- Nerds. -

Note, rennies, especially older rennies, don't seem to like the title of nerd. In these modern times nerd is a badge of honor. Of course some use it in a derogatory fashion, but who cares about those chunk-heads. During visit number two with the beautiful Em I learned that there is a special pavilion for the express purpose of holding weddings. My response was 'Holding weddings at a rennfest, now that is a new level of nerdiness.” A lady, possibly drunk, wearing the garb of an elf, that is a pair of cheap pointy ear prosthetics, accosted me. And then proceeded to lecture me on how the rennies were living happily whilst all the jocks and jerks who picked on the nerds in the real world were in cubicals crunching numbers. At least that's what I took from the rant. She was clearly less than happy and holding onto some of her past issues with a death grip.

Rule number one of renfest, don't pick fights with the hardcore. They carry weapons.

- A pretty redhead clad in tights and wielding swords. I am in love. -

So I smirked at her, tried to calm her down. This combination of tactics is mutually exclusive by the way, and weathered her tirade as best I could with out telling her that she was long past high school and she needed to just let that bullshit go and get on with it. I didn't want to get stabbed. She had the crazy and I have a good sense of what is conducive to long life. So I kept my smart ass comments to myself.

- Brother, I hope you didn't pay to do this. At least pay whilst you were sober. -

Back to the story. I visited twice in three weeks. The first time was with the usual crew, plus one. Evil, The Fat Man and Dutch. Evil and Dutch dressed for the event, partaking in the pagentry. Evil just threw on a regular skirt and a renfest-style bodice. Dutch went all out donning his happy pants, thick belt and other such garb.

We teased him for it of course. This is what friends do.

But getting dressed is all part of the fun, and they fit right in. There's a good mix of players and tourists that run a gradient ranging from the hardcore of the rennies, who come dressed in costumes that they spent hours, if not days, making themselves to be either historically accurate or just outright awesome. All the way down to the dude who showed up in blue jeans, flip flops and a cheap pirate hat.

In my opinion the latter end of the spectrum are somewhat insulting to the very concept. If you're not going to fully participate, then at least don't half-ass it and pick something up at Walmart on the way in. Anything less becomes a mockery of what is already almost a parody of actual history.

Michigan Rennfest is a huge business. The company that runs the festival owns the land and has erected permanent structures for the shops and shows. No tents for us, yessir. They claim that the facade represents that of a 16^th century English village or town. I've never been to one. Nor seen photographs. But I have my doubts about how accurate they are in their creation.

Regardless. The place is cool.

- Pink mead drink beverage, just like they made it in 16th century England! Only three bucks a bottle! Gets me into the spirit! -

The approach is screened from the eye by a wall of trees, through the first gate, you pay for your ticket, and then finally through the second gate you behold the modern idea of the said 16^th century English village. An enclosed village at that. It works like a giant loop, the roads/paths are lined with shops and stages. At one end lies what can be termed the village, while a open jousting field dominates side opposite.

For the first visit: We entered at around noon on a hot sunny day. Then we gawked until finally kick-starting ourselves and choosing a direction. Eyes were half on the stores as we passed. Leather works, sword sellers and potters mixed with food booths and stalls to buy trinkets and jewelery. The rest of our attention of course went to our fellow tourists. As I said, the faire is rife with user created content. One moment you might see a gaggle of hot wenches and then the next a man(or woman) dressed in full plate mail. No telling what might come around the next corner.

As a group we made a full turn of the loop, taking in all the sights and marking down the interesting points that we might wish to return to. First full stop was one of the shows.

- That is a whole lot of flaming on one stage. -

Manolette. Manolette was awesome. I won't give away much of his show, beyond to say that it was vastly entertaining and very funny. It was good that he kept it a bit raunchy for the audience even though there were children present. After all, if a parent objects to the content, they are always free to up and leave and allow the rest to enjoy the show. He was lewd and funny and we parted with some of our cash in the form of a tip. I don't know if the performers get paid to entice them in or if they work for whatever they can wring from the audience, I have to think a combination of both. At least with the professionals.

There is a wide variety of shows, though most seem to lean towards the comedic in nature. Don't know why this is. Perhaps a festival atmosphere is the perfect place for comedy. Even the dramatic shows had comedic aspects to them. Jokes interspersed with the action.

The second show we sat down for was The Ded Bob Sho, a ventriloquist act starting a lewd puppet that insulted the audience. Of course we loved him and laughed as he made fun of us even as he delved into the realm of the creepy. That's just how it was. Better yet, his show was stated as being rated pg13. So people, who had been offended in the past, could be warned that the content might not be suitable for their sensibilities. Maybe the warning was sufficient. I didn't see anyone get up and leave.

- Anti-goths or Zombies? Which of the possible answers is scarier? -

Ded Bob is rather a microcosm of the Rennfest experience. He demands audience participation to the point of bringing audience members up onto the stage to play their parts so that they are both being entertained and entertaining in the same breath. And then once the entertaining is done, he solicits for money. A free market at work because people gladly give him large piles of cash as they choose his service.

For my second visit, I merely went to meet up with a friend from school. She loves these things and invited me along for a meet and gawk. I of course said yes for several reasons. And important one being that she promised to wear a chainkini should she get her hands on one. I love to see beautiful women in chainkinis, as they are so very sexy. So I made one for her. At least the bottom half.

- So many dirty thoughts, so little time. -

Five pounds of interlocking galvanized steel rings. Four hundred feet of wire and several weeks work assembling the thing and it was all worth it. Em is quite a sight wrapped in steel. She wore the thing for the entirety of the afternoon, leaving me with wonderful images to keep me warm during the long winter months ahead.

The costumes. They were the best and worst part of the renn experience. By long and far away. Pirates and tavern wenches abounded in all ages shapes and sizes. Good and bad, the young and beautiful came lockstep with the old and saggy. Rennies don't seem to ever grow out of their favorite costumes. It's nice to see people that comfortable with who they are, and it sucks to see people that comfortable with who they are.

-Pirates? Tavern Wenches? Both combined to form lesbians! Glee! -

All in all, I live on the internet, and have seen worse things than people past their prime in revealing costumes. So, no big deal. Just squint a bit and keep on going and go on mining for the gold. It's there in droves. Like the lone Ninja who ignored the centuries long Pirate-Ninja feud and hit the renn on the Pirate themed weekend. The man had balls. I wonder if he was part of a show. And if not, some of the drunken pirates(It's a rennfest, there's a lot of drinking) got together and tried to pound the tar out of him. Either way, the dude is my hero for having balls of pure steel.

Advice? Sure:

→ Try the turkey legs. They're damned good.

→ Take pictures. People there don't seem to mind. They've spent a good deal of time on their costumes and want to show them off.

→ Make sure to bring along cash. I doubt that anyone takes credit or checks.

→ Remember it is a faire, so everything is going to be expensive. They have you by the short curlies.