The rolodex of random thoughts

Greetings one and all. This post is going to be (hopefully) a bit of a topic bomb. My intent is not to offend anybody (although I wouldn’t be surprised if my clutsy combination of words probably does at some point), but rather to get some wheels turning and to give some people something to think about. OK, here goes…

…I am bored with Caidan events.

There! I said it! It is out, and I cannot take it back!

I am a Laurel. I am a Pelican. I am a Court Baron. I am a landed noble (again). I have all the bling and titles and awards I am ever going to get and then some. So naturally, it is horrible for me to say something disparaging about Caid, right? Well, just the opposite, actually. Rather than ignoring the problem (thus contributing to it), I would must rather say it, get it out there, identify where the problems exist, and then try my darnedest to actually DO something about it.

The fact of the matter is this. When somebody says, “event” in the Kingdom of Caid, I would say around 90% of the time (if not more) what that means is “a double-elimination heavy-weapons tourney in a park”. And let me tell ya – that gets old REALLY fast. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am NOT picking on the fighters. There is nothing wrong with having a tourney at an event. But it seems like this one little event concept is more often than not the only thing we do here in Caid. Frankly, where is the revelry? Where is the bardic? (And no, I don’t mean hokey “All about the Bling” filk. I mean real bardic where people really push period performance and an appreciative audience gives them attention?) Where is the dance? Where is the period feasting? Where are the pas d’armes? Where are tournies that are NOT just standard double-elim? Where is the emphasis on one’s persona? Where are the helmshau’s? Where is the challenge and the sense of something new? Where are the full weekend events? Where are the events that really emphasize dressing UP?! And where are the courts that truly inspire the audience?

SERIOUSLY – royals and nobles for years in this kingdom have made court little more than a forum to remind people to 1. Stay in the shade. 2, Wear sunscreen, and 3. Drink plenty of water. Seriously?! Court is a stage. It is an opportunity to provide theatre. The Sovereign crown of Caid reads, “you rule because they believe”. But when the people in the big chairs come across as if they are in jeans and a t-shirt, I have no reason to believe. (And no, I am not picking on our current royalty. This has been going on for a long time now).

Now that I have bitched up a storm, I would like to offer up some observations and make some recommendation. Caid has sunk into a state of complacency. A lot of the old guard relies upon doing what was done before. After all, it worked last year, so it should work this year, right? And mistakenly, when we repeat things, we often begin to label them as “tradition”. While this may surprise many, I actually DO have a lot of respect for tradition. BUT… not all things that are simply repeated are tradition. To me, a tradition is something that is INTENTIONALLY repeated not only out of respect to its origin, but because people actively WANT it to continue just as it is. For instance, I think of the Leondimus of Thebes event in Calafia – a tradition to honor the spirit of a deceased member of the Barony whose sense of honor served to inspire people then and now. THAT is a good tradition. Gyldenholt Unbelted – an event that focuses solely upon a heavy weapons tourney of fighters who are NOT knights, where the knights make a point to watch the new up and coming fighters who may become tomorrow’s chivalry. THAT is a good tradition. But if the concept labeled as “tradition” isn’t serving a purpose for today’s and tomorrow’s generation, we need to change. Hell, one of my personal pet peeves involves every time I hear the “traditional” wording of the Dolphin read out in court. Every time I hear, “…. From the reign of Prince Gregory and Princess Vivianne”, instead of the parroted reply that the audience is conditioned to say, I rather loudly say, “whom I’ve never met!” (Please GODS! Most of us have never met either individual. LET IT GO ALREADY and allow OTHER things to happen!)

What I would really love for Caid to consider is erasing the Kingdom calendar for a moment. Aside from the events that we MUST have (such as coronation and crown tournies), let’s consider the rest of the events and ask ourselves – are we doing these events for a purpose? Do they still serve to inspire and encourage people to participate and push themselves? Or are we doing them just because we always do them? Blasphemous as it may sound to some, I’ll call the Baronial events into question. Every time I turn around, the Kingdom calendar is blocked by a Baronial anniversary somewhere. OK – seriously – does EVERY anniversary need to be celebrated? Heck, most married couples I know don’t throw an anniversary party every single year. Does every barony need to hold an anniversary event every single year? If so, why? If you do it all the time, what makes it special? Also, what exactly is it that makes them “Baronial anniversaries”? Oh… double-elimination tourney in a park. (Snooooze!)

Here in Gyldenholt, I/we have already really pushed the envelope enough to make some people feel uncomfortable. I would like to think that most are enjoying the changes and shifts. But I’m sure some of the older timers must be shaking their heads. And if they are, while I mean no disrespect, I would have to say, “So be it”. I am more interested in inspiring the newer people with drive, energy, vigor and determination than in pleasing the older folk who just don’t have as much oomph to give anymore. I love and am inspired by the Gyldenholt population’s willingness and determination to try new or different ideas so that we may all have fun together.

My personal gauntlet throw is to the rest of the kingdom.

Please do NOT make the mistake of making event ideas so closed-down as to shut the door on new people, new ideas, new concepts, and new traditions. There is absolutely no incentive for a new person to join our crazy little club if right from the start they get the impression that there is no room for their influence, their ideas, and their vision of “the dream” which is 100% as important and as valid as the dream of someone who has been playing for 40+ years. There is no excuse in the world to force-feed a parroted “of happy memory” down the throats of new people when there is no opportunity for them to create their own new memories. For the future of Caid, and quite possibly for the society as a whole, we need to be open to change. We need to be open to new ideas. Frankly, we need to be willing to allow things to possibly fail so that the newer generation can learn from their mistakes. We need to be willing to always try new things. We need to learn to separate “tradition” from “tired old bad habit”. And we need to understand and recognize the fact that maybe some of our own personal moments of greatness or glory may very well need to just fade into the mist, rather than to force it upon people year after year.

The future of the Kingdom, and the SCA in general, looks pretty bleak if we continue to live in our own personal past. We need to pass the baton and open the doors wide open for change if we intend to survive. For my own part, I don’t know what my SCA-future holds. I won’t always be Baron, nor would I want to be. I have things I want to do – events that really focus on art and clothing and cooking; more themed events; more visually stunning courts, etc. But that depends on other people’s willingness to allow such changes.

My own personal bar for this game is pretty high. And I expect my game to take it up a notch or more. I can tell you that my own future does not have much room for “tourney in a park, standard double-elimination”. And I’m not the only one who feels that way.

Wake up, Caid. It is time, Caid. Let’s bring in some new inspiration!

Ah… the smell of warm cider and cinnamon wafting in the air. Light holiday music plays in the background, while the crackling of the log in the fire reminds us all that regardless of how chilly it may be outside, all is well within.

Regardless of how one happens to celebrate the winter season, most if not all of us share some common ties in that we enjoy favorite holiday foods, time with friends and family, and perhaps the exchange of presents. Speaking for myself, I know that I am very fortunate. In my life, I have never been lacking – never lacking for attention (indeed, frequently I feel like the spotlight has been on me too much!), never lacking for presents (as my sisters like to remind me on a regular basis, they view me as a spoiled brat), and never lacking for invitation to various occasions (I love you all. I do! But some days, I really want to just stay home). But this does not mean I have been spared some of the unpleasant realities of the holiday season.

When it comes to presents, there is not typically anything that I really want. When someone asks me, “What do you want for the holidays?”, after drawing a complete blank, my brain often skips over to the next column, which contains “things that I NEED” or “things that I could probably find a use for”. I know that doesn’t really answer the question being asked, but it honestly is the best I can do. I’m just not a stuff person. Much to the contrary, one of my single favorite things in the world to do is to find That-Perfect-Thing for somebody. No, I really don’t like for it to necessarily be about Christmakanzakule, or birthdays or any other holidays. If it were entirely up to me, the spirit of giving would be much more of a year-round thing, and we would just give presents as we find That-Perfect-Thing for that person in mind. And every now and again, I luck out in that I just happen to stumble upon the most perfect thing in the world for exactly one and only one person.

Such was the case many years ago with someone I once knew. And it taught me a valuable lesson. The person in question was hard to shop for. We would be spending the holidays together, and I knew I needed to find something. Quite by accident, one day, I found THE perfect thing, which combined her love of two particular things – ancient Egyptian art, and cats. Yes, she was a crazy cat lady, and had been for the whole time I knew her. And also, she absolutely loved Egyptian art. One day, while combing through a catalog, I found this beautiful replica of the statue of Bast. It was beautiful, ornate, and just perfect! So I ordered it in plenty of time for the holidays.

Sadly, though, not long before the holidays, I received a letter from the company stating that it was on back order and would take more time to arrive. CRAP!

I explained to her what had happened, and that I found something ideal for her, but it was on back-order. What I got was a very snarky and cynical comment about how that wouldn’t have happened had I been better organized. (I bit my tongue, but frankly, I would be hard-pressed to give you an example of something that could possibly insult me MORE than to be referred to as disorganized!) I received her present, and while by this point, I cannot even remember what in the world it was. (I’m thinking it was a calendar, or a cookbook of some sort unrelated to anything I am interested in). In any case, I do remember it as being something that really made no sense whatsoever. Yet politely, I smiled, and oohed and aahed over it, and graciously said, “Thank you so much”. Why? Because that’s just what you do!

A week or two later, my order arrived in the mail. A little statue of Bast, as promised. It wasn’t as large as I had hoped, but I figured it would still look lovely in her curio cabinet with the rest of her Egyptian artworks. So at the next available opportunity, I went to visit her and let her unwrap her present. “WHAT?!” she said in a fit of exclamatory pique. “You mean you’ve kept me waiting, and all I got was THIS?!!!!!”

I wasn’t angry (yet). I wasn’t upset (yet). I wasn’t disappointed (yet). Rather, I was stunned – STUNNED! How could an adult behave that way? WHY would an adult behave that way? Who does that?!

Ultimately, I sucked it up. We never discussed it again, and I simply put up a bit of distance. Her little outburst damaged our relationship. Yet, it taught me a very important lesson. In short, I do not believe that one should take for granted a single thing during the holidays (or at any other time, for that matter.) Sense of entitlement is an artificially created delusion, and not only do I not tolerate it, but I won’t encourage it. I am perfectly happy to show you and your friends hospitality, until I feel taken advantage of. If that happens, you won’t be invited back.

While kindness, courtesy, generosity, and respect should be shown year round, at this time of year I find it especially important for us to all try our best to really display our best behavior. The holidays should be about pleasantry. So in conclusion. Happy holidays. Be nice. Be sweet. Be considerate. Be patient. And… well… just don’t be a dick!

I think I’ve been a bit negative lately. Between stress, and sickness, and obligations; I think I have let myself get a bit overwhelmed, and it is time to focus less on the annoyances and more on the good things.

Healthwise, I don’t want to jinx myself, but I am feeling SOOOOOOOOOO much better. I don’t know about the rest of you, but this winter (if that’s what we call it), has been the most annoying season in terms of ickiness. I have had this lingering bronchial-headcold thing that has come and gone for well over a month. It has never been bad enough to really merit going to the doctor. And several times I thought to myself, “I think I’m over it!” But then a few days later, boom, it has been back. But (knock on wood), I’ve been in much better shape for a few days now and even got back to my Monday night yoga class (the tough one).

SCA-wise, life is grand. We went to Crown Tourney this past weekend, and had a really good time. For me, I think the thing I enjoyed the most was the fact that we weren’t “on”, per se. It wasn’t our event to sponsor, and we didn’t have all the responsibilities of figuring out court, bringing tons and tons and tons of stuff (which I define as being truck-only, and not trailer), and we got to just play host to other members of the Barony – of whom there were a LOT! I enjoyed the conversations, seeing people that I haven’t seen in a while, the weather, and just having a relaxed-pace of the day.

I think as we start to move forward into Spring, I’m coming out of my own little self-imposed shell a bit more and (hopefully) will find a bit more energy and drive to keep working on fun and inspiring projects. I tend to thrive on the idea of being unstoppable. And even though I’ve had a lot of reality-checks in my life over the past few years remind me that I can’t run at full-throttle 24/7, I gotta admit – I get a devilish grin when I think to myself…

“Look out world! I’m awake! I have a list! And I’m feeling inspired!”

On and off throughout the evening and this morning, I have been tearing up knowing that I will never again hear the voice of Owain Phyfe singing from across the merchant space at SCA events. Sadly, he succumbed to a sudden and recent illness.

One of the sincerest gifts that the SCA offers is the opportunity to cross paths with people from across the world that you might otherwise never have the chance to meet. There, at random times in random places, you may find yourself exposed to someone with such a rare and unique talent that you stop in your tracks, moved sometimes to the point of tears by the superb majesty that is an otherwise ordinary person’s incredible talent. For me personally, I have experienced this wonder many times. I think of the humble and little old woman sitting quietly and discretely in the merchant area. Her gnarled hands betray a lifetime of hard work in the cragged and distorted tendrils that are her fingers. Yet, despite the pain that she must feel in each and every day, she is able to pick up delicate little bobbins all hanging from spider-web like floss. And with a practiced precision, her hands weave back and forth creating the most beautiful and delicate lace that I have ever seen – the likes of which the Kings from long-ago portraits would have worn. When that old woman dies, who will be left to continue this bygone art?

Then there is the very gaunt and otherwise non-descript middle-aged man that you may have just passed while meandering to the next pavilion. You cannot help but eavesdrop as he proudly shows a friend a book that he has just completed – no… not reading… making. As he opens the cover, bound in a beautiful leather, your eyes catch the expertly calligraphed words, associating themselves with magnificent illumination. Yes, every page was hand decorated. Yes, he made his own pigments. Yes, he bound the book himself. Yes, he tooled the leather cover. And yes, you want to drop to your knees at the sense of overwhelm in that an otherwise average-appearing person is capable of creating something of such an incredible nature.

The SCA has gifted me with so many of these moments, it would make for an exceptionally long posting for me to even gloss them all – which would be an insult to the many inspiring people whose paths I have crossed. But for today, I will focus on one such person – dear Owain Phyfe.

I cannot remember how many years ago I first heard his voice, but I remember the moment distinctly. I was driving to a friend’s house, and listening to my favorite radio show – Music of the Isles. A combination of Irish pub songs and Renn Faire type music, my friends and I were all pretty much regular Thursday night fans. As the DJ finished describing the previous series of songs, he began to speak of a relatively new band that performed music from the time of Henry VIII and the like. “Erugh????” I thought to myself. “Yeah! Ye Olde Musicke!” Still fairly green in the SCA myself, I didn’t know didly-squat about period music (and still really don’t), but I know that I wanted to hear it. I turned up the volume. And then, as the music began to play, I found myself simply spellbound. The mellow instrumentation filled the air like a perfumed incense wafting slow and subtle. And then slowly fading in, a voice as mild and smooth and mellow as the slow string of a single violin began a serenade.

I felt myself almost melt listening to that voice.

The radio aired a couple of songs from the New World Renaissance Band that evening, and I knew I would have to track them down. And sure enough, as soon as I got to my friend’s house, I called the radio station to find out who they were.

Now just imagine, kittens. This was back before Amazon.Com. This was before widespread internet. Back then, we had to rely upon record stores. And ya… good luck finding an independent label that specialized in music of the Renaissance! Fortunately, the DJ had a copy of the CD (also relatively new things back then), and it listed the address of the recording studio. Over the next couple of weeks, I had written to them and had gotten a response, along with a phone number. I figured it would be much easier to just call them to see what I could order. I figured the number would lead to some Great Big Huge Professional Recording Studio. But no. After three rings, a man picked up the phone and greeted me with a distinctly smooth-voiced, “Hello.” It was the lead singer! We chatted for a little while, as I tried my best (And failed) to hide my awkward star-struck geek-enthralled state.

I ordered the CD’s of the New World Renaissance Band, and also the solo album “Sweet was the Song.” And there, I gained inspiration. Nestled within the various recordings was a beautiful little Italian ditty called “Se L’Aura Spira”. Catchy, cute, and from the late Renaissance, the tune encourages the listener to enjoy the Spring through dance. And what better way to pay tribute to such a song than to dance to it!

Over the years, I choreographed a number of dances within the SCA, but none was as good as the bazzadanza that I created for this tune. My dance partner and I performed the dance at a Coronation feast about a year or so after I had heard the tune for the first time. For me, that was one of my greatest moments in the SCA – at least up until that point. But little did I know what was in store.

Later that year, I found myself at Pennsic War. I hustled up the hill (back in the days when I COULD hustle up the hill) to meet a friend and grab dinner. I had to get changed, and was on the verge of running late. But then out in the distance, I heard Owain Phyfe’s voice. “Oh,” I thought to myself. “How nice. Someone is playing one of his CD’s.” But then, I picked up on some improve that I knew was not on the album. “WAIT A MINUTE!!!!!!” I thought to myself. “That ain’t no CD! That’s HIM!!!!!! He’s HERE!!!!! Somewhere, he’s here!!!!!!!!!! OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!!!”

The merchant area was packed, as people were gathering towards the food courts for dinner. I couldn’t see him… but I could hear him. So I followed his voice. And there, sitting quietly in the corner of a food merchant awning, a small, modest, non-descript bard played his guitar, and crooned with the unmistakable velvet voice that was every bit as beautiful live as on the CD’s. I stood there, enthralled… hypnotized… unable to move… unable to do anything but follow wherever his voice led me.

Fast-forward to later that evening. I told all my friends who were there about my good fortune, and they too all wanted to meet him and hear him perform live – including my dance partner who was also there. As luck had it, it happened to be Wednesday night – midnight madness. And as luck would have it, he was performing live for one of the merchants. I had previously related to Owain the fact that I had choreographed a dance to his tune. And modestly, he said to me that he had wanted to see it. As my partner and I arrived, he spied me through the crowd and smiled as he sang. I knew he wanted us to dance right then and there. OMG! OMG! OMG! So we moved our way through the crowd. At the end of his song, he asked the crowd to kindly back up and to make a bit of room, as there would be a dance. That is when my partner and I moved up, and he began the unmistakable entrade chords to the tune. There, under a starry and meteor-streaked sky, lit by the flickering light of torches, surrounded by period pavilions, and a very large crowd that had gathered, I experienced one of the greatest and most fulfilling moments I have ever had in my life, dancing a dance that I had choreographed to the live singing of a truly gifted singer.

Dear Owain, you touched my artistic soul. You inspired me. You opened a door for my creativity. You are one of my best memories. And you made this game of ours a much better place. We have truly lost one of our greatest gems. “Sweet was the Song” when you were able to sing it.

The years will flow for you dear muse. Your loss breaks my heart.

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