There are so many things I could say about this particular advert, and the related one with our heroes singing about working in a pirate themed restaurant. I suppose I should begin by saying that I am not at all offended by either of them, so that will not be the crux of this post.

What I am is very disturbed.

Befre you go the route of thinking I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, consider the following. It has been well documented throughout the years that television has been a force on the planet that most (not all, mind you) people who partake of it on regular basis will accept what is presented through it as fact, no questions asked, no further skepticism or inquiry needed. So it stands to reason that people seeing the ad above will now “know” that all of us who work Ren Faires do so because we are forced to by bad credit. That it is a parody makes no difference in this case. This has been established in many, many communication studies. Bad credit, television tells us, is due to irresponsibility and therefore this ad by context tells us that Ren Fair employees are irresponsible. They have no one to blame but themselves for their “predicament”.

Really? Which Faires would these be that employ these people? Not the ones we work. The last event we worked, the Greater St. Louis Renaissance Faire, is a 501c3 with dedicated education days, to which school age kids from HOURS away are bussed so they can learn a few things in an environment that’s fun and interactive.  The acts we work with at this event, and many others, are high caliber entertainers, world record holders, some internationally known. These are acts that support families with what they do, and I don’t mean check-to-check, just-getting-by. The are raising and educating children and doing a darn fine job of it. And I could go on for hours about the dedication of those who cook food for us and the public, work the lanes as characters, take tickets and provide information, and the parking attendants who see that everyone who makes the drive gets to come and play.

I don’t think any of us described above see ourselves in this ad. We laugh about it a bit, but after that’s done, there’s the unsettling realization that for the majority of viewers, this is now their worldview on what sort of person works at the Renaissance Faire. It is sad to me that so little recognition is given to the validity of one the last vestiges of sideshow style entertainment outside of Coney Island. It is sad to me that the hard work of a volunteer staff goes unrecognized. It is sad to me that a tip in the hat of a performer might be given out of pity rather than appreciation.

It’s my hope that the last two statements will hold mostly untrue in this world, but I’m a realist about the power of television.

Never mind the fact that I worked on completing my second college degree while working Ren Faires, generating credit for my time spent working Ren Faires and graduating Magna Cum Laude with Ren Faire income helping to pay for it all. Never mind the fact that Alex works for many places on the Historical Register and is one of the most popular acts on the grant-driven Historical circuit for his attention to detail and accuracy for the time periods in which he performs. Never mind the fact that one of the acts we work with every year is one of the highest paid performers in his genre in the world. Never mind the fact that the children we know raised on the Ren Faire circuit are well-adjusted and well-behaved. Home schooled, you know … and perfectly well-socialized, thankyouverymuch.

We have mortgages, leases, vehicles to pay off and maintain, and we do so with the same struggles the rest of you out there have, I’m certain. While there are certainly some who fit the profile of the ad above, they do not comprise the majority. Look at any blue-collar trade and you’ll see very much the same dynamic at work.

And, unfortunately, the same prejudices.

Ask those of us at the Faire if we are working there because we have no other choice. Really. Ask us. The answers you get may just change your worldview.

It is my hope other performers and Ren Faire workers will chime in on this one. I’m just so completely sick of those of us who choose to work in the variety arts being vilified and mocked for what we choose to do for a living by those who have no understanding of what it entails. Listen to Chris McDaniel’s episode of NPC’s Conjurers, Carnies & Collectors for further exploration on the topic.

Okay. End of rant. Let the flaming commence. I just had to get this off my chest ….

Well HELLO! It’s been WAY too long since we’ve given an update here at the Swordswallowers corner of the Internet.

We are alive and well and happily working at the Greater Saint Louis Renaissance Faire, one of a tiny handful of Renaissance events we do on a regular basis. It is a wonderful event run by a 501c3 boasting one of the most dedicated volunteer staffs a fair could ever want. Crowds have been playful and large and our stage is once more shared by the fabulous Musical Blades and a new friend, Molotov the Gypsy. We were only able to commit to the middle two weekends of the event this year as we are making preparations to be more readily able to travel at a moment’s notice. We hope to add some more shows to our route in 2010 and are deciding who we will approach with which of our specific shows.

The tanager has not returned. The less said about that, the better, so I’ll end that thought here.

Last year saw us flooded out on Memorial Day with the Faire being forced to close. We were fortunate to have come through it unscathed but many on site didn’t fare as well, with one vendor of lovely delicate glass items suffering a total loss. This year, while slightly rainy, gave us nothing close to the epic amounts of rainfall that we saw in 2008. In general, 209 has been a much better year for us and for most of the performers and folks we know. Again, the less said about 2008, the better!

It is positively wonderful to be back on the road and planning for more road time with greater consistency. This is a life we respond to very very well and the simplicity of it makes it that much more desirable to pursue. We are among friends and fellow travelers and look forward to spending some social time out with a number of them before we all return to work on Saturday.

It is good to be home. Wherever that happens to be.

We are under attack by summer tanagers.

They hate the Airstream. They peck at the roof, flutter against the windows, claw at our screens and sharpen their bills on our propane tanks. If we step outside it’s all Alfred Hitchcock for a moment before they retreat to the treeline.

We have absolutely no idea why they hate the Airstream. We also have no idea why the tanagers seem to be the only species of bird here that hate the Airstream. There are cardinals, towhees, various other members of the finch family, plenty of sparrows and even owls. The tanagers are the only ones with this incredibly specific and bizarre personality flaw and I must say it’s not very becoming for an otherwise elegantly plumed bird.

At first we were concerned for their health, as they were knocking themselves stupid against the trailer, but after three consecutive days of this behavior it’s become hard to be particularly sympathetic. They start promptly at 6am and continue until about 9pm when presumably they go roost someplace.

There are three males, two adult and one juvenile. The two adults station themselves at either end of the trailer. The juvenile pecks on the roof. There is an adult female also and she started getting into the act yesterday evening until Alex came up with what seems to be a foil for the adults, placing a goopy mix of bacon grease and peanut butter on slabs of wood and covering the perches they are using as staging areas. This has done nothing to deter the juvenile, who is still on the roof, doing his best impression of a hailstone. When we go outside to shoo him away he flies to the treeline and chatters at us, really giving us an avian what-for.

We’re waiting to see if the influx of people to the fairgrounds this weekend proves a deterrent, but we’re not holding our breath. At this point we half expect to see them seated in our front row for all of our shows, throwing popcorn and shouting “DO SOMETHING!” Considering the disdain they show for our humble aluminum home it honestly wouldn’t surprise us in the least.

We made it to St. Louis in one piece, more or less.

Our water pump is in need of some therapy. It rained nearly the entire way here and our front window leaks. The floor is sagging. These are just a few of the joys of being on the road in a trailer over 40 years old. All of it is repairable, of course. It will just take some time and attention.

Some familiar faces from the pirate festival last year will not be here for the Renaissance Faire, much to our disappointment. We’re confused about this since two of the acts in particular are huge draws and very popular with the hometown crowd. We can only hope it was a mutual parting and not a drawn out confrontational split. We hope for visits from them but realize we’re idealists in this way.

I suppose the best way to update this very neglected blog is to share a little of our trip and the roadside attractions and experiences contained therein. They are what makes life on the road worth every mile.

As we left our home state of Virginia I recalled a place we’d seen featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives located in West Virginia and did a search to find out how far off our route they were. Answer: 7 miles. The decision to stop was unanimous.

The original location of Hillbilly Hot Dogs is located 7 miles north of Interstate 64 from exit 18 in Lesage, West Virginia. You can’t miss it. It looks for all the world like some child experts in the blanket-fort construction business got hold of some school buses and built a grab joint. It is colorful, wildly cheerful and fantastically welcoming. There are affectionate cats roaming the grounds and the front door is actually a little challenging to locate amongst the collected antiques and objects-d’art. Inside the décor is supplemented with signatures of patrons absolutely cramming the walls, tables, chairs and any other readily available surface outside the kitchen. There is an 8-track player next to the VCR. The first thing you hear after the music is the staff bidding you a warm welcome from the kitchen, and owners Sonny (The Weenie Man) and Sharie (The Weenie Wife) are right there with them.

The menu contains hot dogs and hamburgers served with everything you can imagine. Some of them are actually larger than your head. All the traditional sides are offered and for dessert, along with traditional root beer floats and ice cream sundaes, there is homemade cake courtesy of Sharie’s sister.

I ordered the Taco Dog. Alex ordered the ½ pound Big Bubba Burger, to much fanfare in the kitchen. A side of fries and some drinks rounded out our meal nicely. While we feasted we talked with Sonny and Sharie, telling them a bit about what we did and where we were headed. In return they gave us a real education on hot dogs, their newer franchises and business practices, and the best example of customer service I’ve experienced in years. Sonny also introduced us to the foundation ingredient in one of their signature offerings, the Homewrecker. I had never seen a 15-inch long 1 pound all-beef hot dog up close …

I’ll pause while you compose yourselves …

… but it was impressive to say the very least. When fully dressed, the Homewrecker weighs in at approximately 3 ½ pounds and anyone finishing it in under 12 minutes wins a prize. I think they said they’d had one winner in recent memory.

We wanted to stay longer but needed to keep moving to reach St. Louis in time to find a good camping spot. Sonny and Sharie, if you’re reading this, we sincerely thank you for a fabulously great time. We’ll be back to see you on our trip home in June and I’ll be trying that Junkyard Dog on for size. Maybe we’ll have The Weenie Song ready to perform too. Who knows? You’re great folks and we’re really glad to know you! See you down the road!

February 28th has been named International Sword Swallower’s Awareness Day and Alex and I were fortunate to have been given a bit of soapbox time in the Washington City Paper.

Point Taken: Sword swallowers show their scars

Back to FL tomorrow, then home just after St. Pat’s. More to come. I owe you some serious text, dear readers!