The Fredösphere

• The jousting competition was very satisfying, even if there were only three competitors. This is an expensive, high-commitment, weird, and rather dangerous sport.  I got the impression if one walks away from a tournament with only a few bruises and a sprained wrist, one considers the day a success. The time spent cantering and colliding is a small part of the whole; the riders spend a fair amount of time walking their horses into position. This means there's plenty of time to talk to the crowd, and inevitably trash talk has become an integral component of the entertainment. Also appreciated was the judge/master of ceremonies/FAQ answerer, a dead ringer for a bearded Jeremy Irons.  No fatalities, sadly, something that can happen when a splinter of balsa wood impales the brain via the eye slit.
• I couldn't help but notice the base drummer with obvious African ancestry among all the redheads in the pipe & drum bands, especially since he brought to mind the cover art from this sad, dreadful movie.
• Once again, the local high school provided instrumentalists, and by backing them up with a thumping electronic rhythm section, made them listenable from the point of view of the average audience member. See my previous paean to the Saline Fiddlers: same principle.
• The food was disappointing. Domino's Pizza had a booth, along with some Italian sub thing and a tent selling Hawaiian chicken of all things, and maybe I should have gone with one of those.  Instead I went to the trailer selling authentic Celtic food.  The Welsh pasty might have been good when it was fresh, but it sat around long enough for the puff pastry to turn dry as a Judge Bork martini. Sucker that I am, I obeyed the hype and also ordered a can of "Scotland's other national drink," a soda pop named Irn Bru that tastes like orange baby aspirin.  Not terrible, mind you, but definitely sub-fabulous.  Ah well, the Walkers shortbread cookies at the end redeemed the meal.
• People from the Society of Creative Anachronism really, really don't mind taking the time to explain their coats of arms.

Labels: Culture, local, LovableOddballs