Stupid and Amazing

“I did something stupid and amazing this weekend!”

Two words that go together perfectly.  Not everything stupid is amazing, naturally, and not quite everything amazing is stupid, but the two coincide more often than the average person might think.  Anything that gives an adrenaline rush has got to be stupid on some level, after all.  Just about anything a teenager will be happy about but which also makes their mother yell at them has got to be stupid and amazing by definition, although who thinks it’s amazing can vary.

“Faire is dumb.”

“So say we all.”

Wearing four layers of clothing in the Texas summer is dumb.  Systematically breaking down the barriers of acceptable behavior in order to purposefully make a fool of yourself for others’ entertainment is pretty dumb.  Spending four months of weekends not resting, but using up more energy than we tend to have in a given week, on top of working at the same time, is dumb.  Not getting paid to do all this, and having to pay for gas, food, costuming, and props out of pocket is dumb.  Trying to convince people who will never actually believe you that this is actually sixteenth century England, and I am in fact completely affronted that you’re wearing shorts is dumb.  Willfully participating in activities such as whacking each other with large wooden sticks no matter how many times we’ve cracked knuckles and turned ankles is dumb.

Subjecting ourselves to so much pain and fatigue is dumb.  Getting up at six in the morning on the weekends is dumb.  Having no days off except for holidays for four months straight is dumb.  The myriad ways that we can identify the stupidity of Faire must prove to any who have doubts that this Renaissance Festival thing we do is pretty dumb.

That’s part of what makes it so amazing.

Right off the bat, we have amazement from our audience for wearing so many clothes in the Texas heat.  Having no barriers means there are no limitations on how much hilarity can occur when we get together, and especially when there’s an audience.  Most of the energy we need and use at Faire is taken from the site and the audience, so while exhausting, it’s very doable.  Most people’s favorite hobbies do not pay, and almost all of those require money that comes out of pocket.  The times that people actually start to doubt, or decide that it doesn’t matter and they’ll play along anyway, make all the bitchy audience members no longer matter.  There are dangers to any physical activity, so worrying about them more than simply taking safety precautions is a waste of energy and takes away some beautiful experiences.

With all that and more, who can care that it hurts and we get tired?  It doesn’t stop us from getting up at six in the morning on what should be our days off, and many of us can get an extra day or so (usually Monday if we can swing it) during the week to rest for these four months.  The fact that we’re still doing it despite all the stupidity speaks volumes about how amazing this Faire thing really is.

Do I call Faire dumb?  You betcha.  I won’t shy away from the fact that there is a lot of stupidity surrounding what we do.  Never mistake that for a pejorative, however.  It’s a fond appellation.  I call some of my dearest friends “bitch” more often than I do my enemies.  Same principle.  Faire is one of the dearest things to my heart, and like any good friend or member of the family, I can abuse them verbally (and a little physically) as much as I want, but all bets are off if anyone actually means the bad words they use.