When I was five, our family left El Paso, Texas, on the first stage of our journey to Japan, where my father was to be stationed. We drove to California. I don't remember the drive, but I do remember that we stopped at the San Diego Zoo and Disneyland on our way to San Francisco. What must it have been like to have three kids under six in the back seat of the car?
From San Francisco, we took ship to Japan, a two-week trip with a stop in Hawaii. The ship was the USNS Gen. Hugh J. Gaffey, one of many ships in the Military Sea Transport Service (MSTS). This essay by Tom Barry on the JapanBrats blog includes the memories of many kids who made the trip with their families during those years. I also remember the spartan conditions, the boredom, the cramped cabins (I think we were all sick at one point), but also crossing the International Dateline, seeing flying fish, and arriving at Yokohama, welcomed by a band.
When we arrived, housing wasn't ready for us yet, so we lived for a few months in temporary housing at the Sagami Depot. I remember the rows of tanks and half-tracks parked on the other side of the fence. We slept in a bunk bed, which was exciting, but at least one of us fell out. I had my sixth birthday there.
We
then moved to Sagamihara Dependent Housing Area, which was part of the
military complex supporting Camp Zama, where my father was working in
the hospital as a surgeon. Here we see the base as an island of green in a highly urbanized area, but I remember farmland.
According to my father, in the first two years we were there, it was like working in a small town, but with the escalation of the war in Viet Nam, the number of wounded being transported was such that the 100 beds were increased to 500, and three other hospitals were built, to receive the thousands of casualties that were to arrive in the next few years.
Of course, I knew almost nothing of this. What I remember is my first grade teacher, Miss Bell, whom I adored. The Snack Bar had a jukebox and hamburgers. We loved an excuse to eat there.
Teachers from the Elementary School. We lived next door to Mrs. Allen.There were three kids: Sharon, who was twelve, was like a goddess to me. Debbie Cynthia, who was my age, beat me up. Billy, who was younger, was, according to my mother, a brat.
I learned to swim in this pool, where we spent hours and hours in the summer.
I saw Laurie Anderson perform "Dirt Day" at the Walker last night. I ended up with an extra ticket at the last minute, so I left it at the box office; they said a woman was on the waiting list. After I had been in my seat for a while, she arrived, offering to pay me. I said that since it was going to be my birthday, the ticket was a gift. We talked and discovered some things in common, so after the show, exchanged emails.
The piece was nothing like the "hits" I know, but combined many of the elements of her previous work. It was infused with great melancholy, as well as humor.
And, for old time's sake, here's the first thing I ever heard her do:
It is the end of July, and all month we have lived with suffocating heat and humidity. From time to time, I long for the San Francisco fog. I'd rather wear a sweater than swelter any day.
I'm so sad to learn of the death today of two amazing women whose music affected me, in very different ways. One is the marvelous Phoebe Snow, who died of complications following a stroke last year.
I was lucky enough to see Phoebe Snow perform when her hit album came out. What a BIG voice she had, and her guitar playing was also wonderful. She could be jazzy, bluesy, but her voice was totally original. Listen to "No Regrets" (a hit for Billie Holiday):
I wore her records out. I especially love "Let the Good Times Roll":
Why did she drop out of sight after making such a huge debut? Because her daughter was born with with brain damage, and she devoted her life to taking care of her. She kept her alive, despite predictions; she devoted herself to creating a loving life for her daughter for 31 years. Take the time to watch this story about her life; it's worth it.
"Amor por ti" sung by Los ángeles negros was a big hit when I first went to Mexico when I was fifteen. It's how I remember that "amor" takes "por" instead of "para."
I took a nostalgic tour through Fleetwood Mac's earlier incarnations. I don't have my records any more, so thank goodness for YouTube.
From Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac, the song"Albatross," with both Peter Green and Danny Kirwan playing guitars:
Did you know that British guitarist Peter Green wrote the song "Black Magic Woman"--that the Santana version is a cover? Here is Green playing "Supernatural" with his previous band John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers.
Green left Fleetwood Mac, under the influence of LSD and also in the throes of what would later be diagnosed as schizophrenia. Although he lived through some very rough times, friends have helped him come back to playing music. Unfortunately, the same has not been true of bandmate Danny Kirwan, whose time with the band I remember fondly. I love the album "Bare Trees," and the voice of Christine McVie will always mean Fleetwood Mac to me. I didn't hate the Nicks/Buckingham incarnation, but the band was never as interesting to me after they joined.
Edited to add: Leee! turned me on to this amazing live performance of "Rhiannon" by the band with Stevie Nicks in which every single member of the band is right in time. Wow, thanks!
This weeks episodes featured duets and some challenging turns to some of the story lines. Here are their inspirations:
Rachel and Kurt performed a perfecto homage to this famous Barbra Streisand and Judy Garland duet:
Santana and Mercedes did a great job with this song, but here's the incomparable Tina Turner in a soulful live version of "River Deep, Mountain High" (not the Phil Spector version we heard on the radio)
From about 1963-1968, my family lived in Japan where my father, then a doctor in the U.S. Army, was stationed at Camp Zama. Some sounds and melodies are imprinted from those years. "Sakura sakura" (played with many variations on the koto by Yoshie Sakai) is a tune everyone knows.
We lived in a house in the Sagamihara Housing Area. There were lots of trees, and the post was small enough that we could walk the few blocks to school. I went to first-fifth grades there. Although we were in Japan, we lived in the Army. Think "Leave it to Beaver," airlifted and dropped into the Japanese countryside. Sagamihara was a small town then; now it has been absorbed into greater Tokyo. Officers (doctors were automatically officers) had bigger and nicer houses than the enlisted men. We kids and wives were "dependents" and our entire social life was contained by the post. Those families who chose not to live in Army housing were said to be living "on the economy." I thought "the economy" was the land outside the fence around our housing area.
There was a commissary where we did our shopping, a pool where we spent most of the summer, a library, a movie theater, a "snack bar" with a juke box and hamburgers, an Officer's Club where we could eat steak. Even though we had relatively little contact with Japanese people or culture, we did watched Japanese TV in black and white: samurai movies, army movies, monster movies, variety shows, cartoons, sumo wrestling. Since it was all in Japanese, we made up the stories to go with the images. For a while, we had a confused idea that any dueling samurai was "a victor."
One program I that I loved was a cartoon called "Obake no Q" about a ghost named Q-Taro who was afraid of dogs. The theme song has been stuck in my head for decades (there were later versions, but this is the original). I can't believe I managed to find it on YouTube!
This song ("Ue o Muite Aruko"), sung by Kyu Sakamoto, was a huge cross-over hit (meaning Americans actually heard of it). We had the record.
I also remember seeing some of the early Group Sounds bands on TV shows. I was especially impressed by The Spiders.
I used to have a cassette recording of Mlah! (1989) the first album by French group Les Negresses Vertes. This was one of my favorite songs, but the whole collection is brilliant.
Learn all about the band and their music here. (a misheard lyric, Where they sing "enfin l'éte" (finally, summer!) I always heard "oh, folle éte!" (oh, crazy/wild summer) which works just as well.).
Les Negresses Vertes Voilà l'été Lyrics :
Voila lété Voila lété Voila lété Voila lété
Voila lété, j'aperçois le soleil Les nuages filent et le ciel s'eclarcit Et dans me tête qui bourdonnent? Les abeilles! J'entends rugir les plaisirs de la vie C'est le retour des amours Qui nous chauffent les oreilles Il fait si chaud Quil nous poussent des envies Cest le bonheur rafraîchi d'un cocktail Les filles sont belles et les dieux sont ravis.
Enfin l'été Enfin l'été Enfin l'été Enfin l'été
Enfin l'été. Mais 'y a déjà plus d'argent Le tout Paris se transforme en phobie Le métro sue, tout devient purulant Dans ses souliers, le passager abruti A dix doigts de pied qui s'expriment violemment Ya plus d'amis les voisins sont partis L'été Paris cest plutôt relaxant On rêve de plage Et la Seine est jolie.
Toujours l'été C'est pas du superflu Il fait trop chaud, le soleil m'abasourdit Rillettes sous les bras J'avance dans la rue Je pense a ces cons qui se font chier dans le midi Tous ces torche-culs qui vont cuire dans leurs jus Tous ces noies, la mer quelle saloperie Et sur les routes le danger ça vous tue Vivement l'automne, je me sens tout aigri.
Toujours l'été Toujours l'été Toujours l'été Toujours l'été
Voila l'été, j'aperçois le soleil Les nuages filent et le ciel s'eclarcit Et dans me tête qui bourdonnent? Les abeilles! J'entends rugir les plaisirs de la vie Cest le retour des amours Qui nous chauffent les oreilles Il fait si chaud Quil nous poussent des envies Cest le bonheur rafraîchi dun cocktail Les filles sont belles et les dieux sont ravis.
Voila l'été Enfin l'été Toujours l'été Encore l'été.
I'm thinking about my relationship to my body and fitness as something that I didn't engage with consciously until very recently, despite the fact that I have been very fit for most of my life, if not terribly athletic. If you are old enough, you'll remember when P.E. was subject in school. This was before sportswear was acceptable street clothing, before everyone "worked out at the gym," before Jane Fonda started her second career as an workout guru, and before Title IX was enacted in 1972 and girls began to have the opportunity to become athletes as children. I don't think young women are aware of how different their experience and the expectations of their bodies in relationship to sports are today compared to the experience of women in their late forties and older. Yet, although most of my P.E. experience was of the separate and vastly inferior kind that was provided to girls in the late sixties-early seventies, we did have to change into special clothing and do exercise or a sport, even if it was only kickball, every day in Jr. High and three times a week in high school. I learned how to play kickball as a prelude to softball, how to serve at volleyball, the rules of flag football and field hockey. We also played badminton, I think. In the name of the President and his physical fitness goals, we were taught how to do push-ups, sit-ups and jumping jacks, made to run laps and throw a softball. We climbed ropes and were taught the basic step of the waltz. Oh, and square dancing, we did that in sixth grade. I remember our gym teachers, all women, made us do something called "squat thrusts," (aka "burpees" but a true burpee has a pushup and a jump in it). In Jr. High, the girls' P.E. outfits were a dark blue, short- sleeved one-piece shorts thingie with elastic around the leg holes for modesty, with a belt. This outfit had a special name that I cannot remember. It wasn't bloomers, but it was something like that, and if you did not have it on for P.E. you got into a lot of trouble.
My mother signed us up for swimming lessons, and I even was on a swim team for one season, but I was never very good at the crawl or the butterfly, and mostly did the breast stroke or the back stroke when I swam laps as an adult.
Despite this level of activity, I was always of the "last picked for the team" crowd, partly because I was myopic and refused to wear my glasses so I couldn't tell how far away a ball was. I was also painfully shy after sixth grade, mortified if anyone looked at me. I longed to be invisible. Yet, somehow in college, when I was 17-18, I ended up being recruited by my P.E. major roommate Natalie to be on our co-ed volleyball and softball teams because, I was told, they needed one more person to be able to sign up the team. Again, I was always the weakest link, but some of the guys took pity on me and actually helped me develop a few skills at throwing and catching the ball, even if I would occasionally just lob it in some random uncontrolled direction. Although they purported not to care, I knew my teammates were terribly competitive and I was alternately ashamed and resentful that I didn't measure up, but also thrilled in a puppy-like way that they included me, the dork, in their group. It was a mixed experience, to say the least.
Once I finished college, my main form of exercise consisted of not having a car: I walked, biked, hauled stuff, and generally tramped all over town for hours everywhere I lived, whether it was in the U.S. or Europe. I also started having the symptoms of fibromyalgia (fatigue, pain) but didn't know why or what it was. I was fit, but I hurt all over and all of the time. Because nobody could tell me why, I just lived with it. I would finally get a diagnosis at age 32 and start doing things like yoga and stretching to help manage the pain.
Walking and biking were my primary ways of keeping fit in graduate school because I no longer hung out with people who played organized sports, the whole world was not yet "going to the gym" and my stab at running proved to me that I would never stick with something I found boring. I had been told by the doctor when I had my first of many childhood sprains that I had "weak ankles" and he told my mother not to let me dance (curse him forever!!!). In my twenties, I did join some friends at the pool from time to time. They were dedicated swimmers; I was not, but I was used to being less competent at sports than most people I knew.
I took two P.E. classes in college: British Isles Folkdancing (loved loved loved it! why didn't I continue?) and the very first weight training class offered for women. Actually the women's section was filled, but they let me and a dorm mate into the men's class. The instructor was a woman, a track coach I believe, and I could tell the guys were not willing to grant her any authority as we gathered on the first day. She didn't say anything, just whipped off ten pullups to the back of the neck with some kind of reverse grip that were clearly of the kind that only Wonder Woman could do, and I saw all the guys visibly adopt a submissive posture. She had proven that she was as tough or tougher than all of them. My supercute friend had lots of guys "helping her" with her weights, but I was happy enough to be ignored. My goal for the class? to be able to do ONE regular pull-up. I never achieved my goal, but I did develop some actual muscle definition and a new relationship to my body. It was very satisfying.
After two years of walking and biking around Minneapolis I finally got a car, and my level of activity dropped precipitously. Walking around the lakes didn't quite replace it. But I also started taking an Afro-Caribbean dance class taught by an amazing teacher, who gave us a 45 minute workout before we even started dancing combinations. It took about a year of taking class from him, first only on Saturdays, then on Tues/Thurs/Sat, to finally overcome the body shame and shyness, get the level of confidence and fitness to finally feel as if I could use my body to express myself. It was a revelation that I could actually be good at something that involved moving my body through space. I owe that dance teacher so much. I stopped taking his class when I was five months pregnant, and then he moved away.
After I was 40, and had a small child, I looked to dance agin for the exercise and pleasure that gym classes never gave me. Until a few years ago, I danced either in ballroom classes or socially at least 2-5 times a week. I was in great shape and it helped me manage my fibromyalgia. But when I had my episodes with rotator cuff impingement and frozen shoulder, I stopped dancing and playing the piano. It hurt too much to raise my hands or my arms above my waist. This coincided, not at all coincidentally, with menopause. Hormanal changes and loss of activity have meant that I rapidly gained weight, putting on close to twenty-five pounds in two years. So I'm both out of shape and I had to give away my wardrobe. I feel sluggish and weak. My fibromyalgia symptoms are worse. I need to get back in shape, not just because I'd like to lose a few pounds but because my future health as an elderly lady will be better if I get fit again. So, despite my fondness for the YWCA, we have signed up at the new LA Fitness about a block from where I live, and I have plunked down the money to have the services of a personal trainer once a week for six months. I know I will not get back into shape unless someone stands over me and counts those repetitions, and I know that if I don't get back into shape, my health and morale will not improve.
The manager put us through our paces in the intake, and my thighs are feeling it, but I feel so excited to have made this commitment, and I want to return to feeling strong and fit again. Then I had an evaluation session where we took measurements and tested what my limits were with a variety of strength exercises: "Pitiful" (that would be my term, not the trainer's).
Garrison Keillor has been indulged by the Baltimore Sun in publishing a mean-spirited anti-Semitic rant (ostensibly about messing with the lyrics of "Silent Night", but really a somewhat hysterical attack on Emerson, the Unitarians and other pointy-head Eastern seaboard "elitists") that seems to me to be a sign that his recent medical issues have seriously affected his judgement. And no, it's not satire, duh, it's a reminder of why the Coen brothers most recent movie about growing up Jewish in Minnesota is still relevant.
"Unitarians listen to the Inner Voice and so they have no creed that they all stand up and recite in unison, and that's their perfect right, but it is wrong, wrong, wrong to rewrite "Silent Night." If you don't believe Jesus was God, OK, go write your own damn "Silent Night" and leave ours alone. This is spiritual piracy and cultural elitism, and we Christians have stood for it long enough. And all those lousy holiday songs by Jewish guys that trash up the malls every year, Rudolph and the chestnuts and the rest of that dreck. Did one of our guys write "Grab your loafers, come along if you wanna, and we'll blow that shofar for Rosh Hashanah"? No, we didn't.
Christmas is a Christian holiday - if you're not in the club, then buzz off. Celebrate Yule instead or dance around in druid robes for the solstice. Go light a big log, go wassailing and falalaing until you fall down, eat figgy pudding until you puke, but don't mess with the Messiah."
Ugh.
I will indeed celebrate Saturnalia, starting with my favorite clip from The Big Bang Theory (repeated last night): "It's a Saturnalia miracle!"
And to cleanse the palate from GK's nastiness, here's a holiday song beloved by many:
This song, Fairytale of New York, was written by The Pogues in 1987, and sung by Shane McGowan and Kristy McColl (lyrics here). Here it's covered by Billy Bragg and Florence and the Machine
Bella Swann may have Edward Cullen duking it with all and sundry to protect her, but in the 1984 teenagers-in-doomed-love movie Reckless, Daryl Hannah was being fought over by Adam Baldwin and the gorgeous Aidan Quinn! Deliberately citing The Wild One and Rebel Without a Cause, the film featured a great soundtrack, and the first movie appearance of Aidan Quinn, who was charismatic enough to break through the stereotypes, and who would go on to become a star in his second movie, Desperately Seeking Susan with Madonna, a year later.
This clip features a song I absolutely adored when it came out in 1981,"Never Say Never" by Bay Area band Romeo Void. Vocalist Debora Iyall, like Exene Cervenka in X, was one of my heroines for seeming so fearless to my gawky shy teenage self. There were the early days of MTV, when we still played records.And yes, we really did dance like that, although not in prom clothes...it was because we were all mad about ska music (The Selecter! The English Beat! Madness! The Specials!)
Look closely: that very tall angry guy who tries to drag Daryl Hannah off the dance floor? is Adam Baldwin, who had already been in a couple of hit movies himself--he was the bodyguard in My Bodyguard, his first role, and---skipping way ahead--- played Jayne Cobb in Firefly!
Debora Iyall and members of the band have been gigging around this year, and she still has it!. Amanda Blank is a Philadelphia rapper who has taken a line from the Romeo Void song and remixed it as an in-your-face expression of lust
If time itself was his demeanor There'd be no sunlight or a glimmer Of sunlight landing on the street Sunsuit girls must be discreet Sunsuit girls must be discreet Nursing their fathers locked inside They masqueraded as his bride
I might like you better If we slept together But there's somethin In your eyes that says Maybe that's never Never say never
The slump by the courthouse With windburn skin That man could give a fuck About the grin on your face As you walk by, randy as a goat He's sleepin on papers When he'd be warm in your coat
I might like you better If we slept together But there's somethin In your eyes that says Maybe that's never Never say never
There's no easy way to lose your sight On the street, on the stairs Who's on your flight Old couple walks by, as ugly as sin But he's got her and she's got him
My nephew is off to continue his college education at Berkeley. I know that he will not be partying like this (he doesn't drink) but this song is the quintessential frat boy party song from back when I was at Berkeley (it came out in '81 and was recorded in 2-3 versions). Pre-gaming, pre-internet, DVDs, back in the stone age, man! we were still listening to vinyl and I still had a reel-to-reel tape recorder!
A very young Henry Rollins is singing with hardcore band Black Flag "TV Party Tonight" more fun than some of their hardcore ragers, but just as testosterone fueled. It's been trotting around my head lately, so I wanted to remember all the names of the shows they shout out:
Lyrics T.V. party tonight! T.V. party tonight! T.V. party tonight! T.V. party tonight!
We're gonna have a T.V. party tonight!
Alright!
We're gonna have a T.V. party alright!
Tonight!
We've got nothing better to do Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews
All our friends are gonna hang out here tonight
Alright!
We're gonna pass out on the couch alright
Tonight!
We've got nothing better to do Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews
Don't talk about anything else We don't wanna know! We're dedicated To our favorite shows!
(That's incredible! Hill Street Blues! Dallas! Quincy!)
We sit glued to the T.V. set all night And every night! Why go into the outside world at all? It's such a fright!
We've got nothing better to do Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews
T.V. news shows what it's really like out there It's a scare!
You can go out if you want We wouldn't dare!
We've got nothing better to do Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews
Don't talk about anything else We don't wanna know! We're dedicated To our favorite shows! (Saturday Night Live! Monday Night Football! Dynasty! Fridays!)
I wouldn't be without my T.V. for a day Or even a minute!
Don't even bother to use my brain anymore There's nothing left in it!
We've got nothing better to do Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews
Wait a minute! My T.V. set doesn't work! It's broken! What are we gonna do tonight? This isn't fair! We're hurtin'
We've got nothing left to do With no T.V. and just a couple of brews
What are we gonna talk about? I don't know! We're gonna miss our favorite shows! NO T.V. PARTY TONIGHT!
I saw the band X perform in Berkeley right when they were getting started... '78 or '79? ("Sheeeeeee had to leeeeeave...). They weren't yet as famous as they would become, but I WAS caught up in the excitement of this new music that was happening in LA and SF, the punk scene. The show was in some kind of co-op house, in a rec room or living room; there was room for about 3-5 rows of people in front of the band. Needless to say, we were all dancing like crazy. It was one of the most amazing show experiences I ever had. How fierce was Exene to my shy, 22-yr old self? She wrote these ferocious songs, she had a unique look (then, before everyone else copied the underground scene), she planted herself on stage and wailed in these amazing harmonies with John Doe. I didn't pay attention then to what amazing musicians they all were; I just knew they were tight, fast, and blew me away. From an interview a few years ago:
“It was very inspiring,” Exene says of those days. “I remember that feeling of creating something completely out-there and new, and that’s fucking amazing as an artist. That’s what you’re supposed to do. We didn’t have any radio or music industry interest, so here’s a bunch of kids just screwing around with art and music, doing whatever comes into their mind, being totally left alone. By the time popularity happened, we’d been left alone for so long that we created this thing totally without influence. People asked, ‘How do you know to do that?’ Well, because I put those two things together and it sounded good to me.”
Exene created her iconic thrift-store vamp look the same way, working with whatever she found in dollar bins that caught her fancy. She would accent a dress from the ‘20s or ‘40s with diaper pins and flashy rhinestones, and pair the look with ankle socks and frumpy shoes. Her dark, bleach-streaked hair was the West Coast flipside of Debbie Harry’s black-tipped, platinum-blond ‘do. Ironically, for a girl whose fashion philosophy boiled down to “cover up as much as you can, because if you don’t, men will look at you,” Exene was also something of a punk pinup. “Yeah, but what was I wearing?” She smiles and laughs. “Good for me. That’s what I say to that.”
For women who found nothing to identify with in the soft-rockin’ ‘70s, punk opened up a new world. “It was the first time women were really in a position like that, to be onstage and be themselves,” says Exene. “You had girl groups and the Runaways and the girls from Fleetwood Mac, but you didn’t really have scary, upfront women like that, so I think people were real fascinated by that.”
I loved this band passionately then, and I still do. I went to the show they did last night at The Cabooze (a bar with a stage, best place to see them). 30 years later, they have lost none of their speed, none of their intensity, and their maturity makes them even better performers and musicians. The crowd was madly in love with their performance, and so was I. I managed to get a good place to stand and see them without getting crushed in the mosh pit, although there were lots of tall people in front of me. I could see Billy Zoom doing that ridiculous posing smiling thing he does while he's playing the hottest guitar around. John Doe plays the bass like few others and he and Exene still are able to give me goosebumps with what they can do when they put their voices together. The drummer, JD Bonebrake, who often gets ignored was as strong and rock solid as ever on their super fast, super tight songs. The set list had been decided by fan vote online before the show, and included a ton of favorites as well as some songs I didn't know. This was their last show on the tour, and they were generous with their encores.
Here they are in 1984 on the David Letterman show (before he got so damn lazy). Neither song rocks as hard as their earlier stuff, but you get the idea.
Check out the little interview Letterman does with the band between their 2 performances here.
Levi Tubbs, lead vocalist of The Four Tops, died in his sleep. He continued to sing with just as powerful a voice until only a few years ago. Their songs thrilled me for years. I was not a rock and roll kid; my friends and I were all about r and b, soul and funk. The team of Holland-Dozier-Holland wrote and produced many of the Four Tops' hits in the sixties. I didn't know it then, but the musicians on those songs were also huge contributors to their sound; the "Funk Brothers" played on the Four Tops's' sixties hits. The documentary movie Standing in the Shadows of Motown brought that story to greater public attention.
In 1985, the Apollo that brought The Four Tops together with some of the other greats groups: the Manhattans, the Cadillacs, The Drifters, The Temptations, and the Four Tops.
Before: Yes, it's way overpriced, but I attended my first RenFest in California when I was 11 or 12, by the juggling, the "gypsies," the folks shouting their wares, the dancing. It was like briefly inhabiting one of those historical novels I read voraciously--I was completely enchanted. In those days, it was a lot more rustic, but my daughter and her friends have had the same magical time here in Minnesota, although Ren Fest tips a little more to the theme park (it's not the oldest, but I think it is the biggest in the country.) Today is the opening day, and the theme is The Silk Road, so there will be Middle Eastern dancing, music, and lots of folks with jingly costumes.
We may see the jousting, our local Morris Dancers (who also turn up at the May Day festival). There will be Middle Eastern dancing today, and the Grand March parade is great for seeing costume creativity. Mikael no longer performs in MN, but seems to have found other renfest engagement. I may have to make a stop at Ye Olde Express Teller because I'm sure I'll be flinging wads of cash about, but today's excursion will be a last fling with two very dear friends before they move down to Austin.
After: We all wore costumes. Wearing a skirt is much cooler thans pants when it's 85 degrees! Because it was the first day, there was not yet the cloud of dust that hangs over the fair later on in the season; everything was shiny and the flowers and trees were gorgeous under a perfect sky. We love the people watching, the imagination and pleasure people take in dressing up as their fantasy selves (say, sounds like the Star Trek Con! maybe some of these folks were there!). The Florentine ice oranges (a half orange with molded orange ice) are delicious, but they leave your tongue a little raw. We skipped Ye Olde bungee jumping, the elephant ride, and the jousting this year, in favor of the dancing, and really admiring some of the craft work. Really, it was about spending time with our friends. We'll miss them! But now we have an excuse to visit Austin.
Posts
