|If you can't stand the heat...quit working Renaissance Faires
||[Jun. 9th, 2008|09:55 am]
Unlike the bucket of things for which I was blamed, excoriated, kicked and otherwise burned in effigy for this past weekend (paging inkgypsy, I need a cover up tattoo to cover the "kick me" that got inked onto my back without my knowledge), the heat WAS my fault.|
See, last year, opening weekend at Maryland was...hellaciously hot and humid. And I said "gee, no one at Virginia Faire will ever be able to complain about the weather there to me, because I have survived the worst. And no day at Virginia is ever as bad as Opening Day at Maryland."
Having proven over and over again that Virginia can make Maryland traffic seem like a drive in the park, Virginia took up the weather gauntlet and smacked us so hard...I may never get up again. Well, okay, obviously I'm up, but limping, good people, definitely limping. And one more shot like that...
Because when the heat index is 114 on Saturday and on Sunday you actually think, well, this isn't nearly as bad, because it's only 105....
When we got home last night, we took cold showers before going to bed and I had the AC turned up so high, it was like a meat locker. I woke up with a sweaty film all over me. I had so much sweat backed up in my system that it kept going all night long.
I will admit - at least it wasn't dusty. And we had over 900 patrons still show up over the weekend. Which is a drop in the bucket to most faires -- two years ago those would have been pretty good numbers. Now, they're extremely disappointing. Although truthfully, by Sunday afternoon, I have to admit every patron that came through the gate, I thought "If it weren't for you, I could be in air-conditioning." It was hard to feel the love.
But as always, I'm just blown away by the fact that people came out, that our entertainers were challenging each other for open stage slots, and our cast was bravely soldiering on and having FUN. Look, I'm a Danish/German/English Yankee, I'm all about the pigheaded, stubborn resistance, endurance as a challenge, weather as an adversary thing. And I was ready to cry uncle. We had a friend show up on Sunday who knows faires and said "I'm really impressed by the energy of the cast." Good heavens, half of them were home lying under ice blankets, the ones who were left must have felt like wrung out dishrags and were under strict order to limit their activity.
Look, we've had torrential downpours, tornados and high winds that have repeatedly ripped down tents, and now egregious heat and humidity. We have one weekend left. Weathergods, don't make me come up there. The forecast for next weekend is mid-eighties, with a small chance of thunderstorm/shower on Saturday. I'm covered in chigger bites, tick bites, mosquito bites and hives of unknown origin. I've got significant lacerations from encounters with metal and wood edges. I hurt in places that I'm pretty sure don't even have nerve endings. I've been sleep-deprived for five weeks. My roof is leaking into my bedroom closet and down into the dining room and the roofer and I are engaged in some long, slow, drawn-out pavane of when he's going to be able to start. I've got horrendous deadlines at work If I were you, I suggest that you not even come CLOSE to 85. I'd better get a breeze and the only "wet" I want to see is when I'm a spazz and miss my mouth when I drink my DMD. Got it?