(Continued from Part Three)
Sunday, May 31 – First Verse
When I wake up, it doesn’t even cross my mind that Simon will end up in a choke hold. And, believe it or not, it isn’t because of the picture he took of me. If you can’t whistle while you’re wearing Super Trooper sunglasses over your regular glasses, then when can you?
Breakfast is a casserole Shannon made from a recipe. With nothing on our agenda until late afternoon, we hang out at the house for the morning, and then snack on homemade salsa and sandwiches in anticipation of the large meal to come.
Shannon and Amy go shopping while the rest of us see Drag Me To Hell, the latest Sam Raimi film. It isn’t as much fun as the Evil Dead film series, and the well-done creepy scenes were almost completely ineffectual against talking moviegoers seemingly set on ruining the mood. No wonder people are choosing more and more to wait until they can rent a film.
It’s this kind of hanging out, just as we would with local friends we can see any time (but don’t nearly often enough) that stitches the weekend into a rich tapestry of… oh, boy, somebody stop me now, please.
Then comes the uncommon event we all have been anticipating — something I had consulted the guys about before they had booked their flights. We load up in Homer and head to Dallas.
I have been to a Renaissance Fair (one of the best in the country — Kansas City area). There were jousting, wenches, and royalty.
Medieval Times takes one part of that fun and cranks it up a notch, with grand horsemanship, battles (choreographed though they may be) and lots of eating without utensils.
We make great time to Dallas to the “castle,” which on the inside certainly sounds like a trip to the middle ages. As we and other attendees mill about looking at the various vendor booths — authentic wooden or metal sword, anyone? — hornblowers announce the appearance of the king on a small balcony to our left. He welcomes us and… then I lose track of what he’s saying because it’s very hard to understand, what with all the aforementioned milling.
Soon we are herded through the arena doors and make our way to our seats — amazing seats. In football terms, they’re on the 50-yard line, second row.
Each section of the crowd is assigned a knight as its champion. Our serving wench tells us that while our guy is the Red and Yellow Knight, we can cheer for anybody except the Green Knight, whom we should boo.
“Oh, vegetarians eat their meals in the torture chamber,” our serving wench says and motions to our right.
The illusion cracks a bit when she asks whether we want tea or Pepsi, but knowing tonight is all-out, I let that slide and go straight for the cola. I know, crazy, right? Our wench brings us food fit for, well, folks who paid for tickets.
The entertainment is the highlight, of course. In the story, the Prince has been kidnapped and the hooded stranger responsible wants power within the kingdom as his ransom. The King does not like this, and dispatches his bravest knights to battle the mysterious man and his henchmen.
The Red and Yellow Knight, despite displaying formidable skills in the joust, loses his ensuing hand-to-hand combat. Unlike many of the players, our guy manages to finish his battle without laughing at his own fake death throes. Nevertheless, we’re left only with jeering at the Green Knight.
After the show the ladies pose with our knight and Simon dares the Green Knight to fight him.
We leave Medieval Times with wide smiles and just a couple miles to our next stop. Next time, dear readers, next time.
(to be continued)