Ok, selfish rant. There, you've been warned. Usually, I enjoy knowing my posts have been read, but this time I really don't care whether it is or not. This just feels good to write.
I am many things. I'm an archer, an enthusiastic (if un-talented) actor, a pool player, a lackluster student, an eccentric musician, and a martial artist. And I'm a guy. This is significant because being a guy means having certain typical desires and mentalities. I'm also simple, or at least, I try to be. When life starts getting more complicated, it's harder for me to see the good times in it.
You know what else I am? I'm tired. I'm tired of all the challenges in my life being nothing but mental challenges, or challenges of maturity. I'm tired of having an enemy I can't wrap my hands around and beat because it's my enemy. "Be patient, Bobby. Mental challenges are more important." You know what else I'm tired of? Hearing that. I know it's true, but once, dear God, just once, not only would it be nice to have and overcome some kind of physical challenge, but also to let it have meaning and substance!
This is the 21st century, not some fairy tale. Fire breathing dragons don't exist. The only dragons that are real anymore are invisible, threatening to drive me absolutely crazy because in order to overcome them, I must first submit and bend to their rules, obeying them, no matter what they may ask of me. They also drive me nuts because as if this wasn't bad enough, they are unseen. There is no physical challenge to it! And once I succeed, what reward is there? A piece of sheepskin. Sure, what it symbolizes is enormously important for the rest of my life, and if I don't succeed, life is going to be a heck of a lot harder, longer, and stress laden...but it's still nothing but a piece of SHEEPSKIN! How did such a thing get to be so important, anyway? The writing on it, I suppose is what's more important, but you know, it just doesn't feel quite as satisfying.
I was a national champion, once. I was 17, and it was my last chance to win this title before I would have to step up and start competing against the 18-32 year olds. And you know something? I didn't just win that tournament. I took it by storm! Afterwards, my instructors said they had never seen me perform so well. Since I won the pattern part of it, when I faced off against the winner of the sparring part, they took his pattern score, subtracted it from my pattern score, then took that difference and doubled it, giving that number to me as a lead for this final match. There was no way he was going to win. He would have had to score 15 points in 2 minutes!
I don't care that I got a medal for it, and I don't care that I wear a jacket that now says "2000 National Champ" on the back. All I care about is that I fought and I won. I earned that title with nothing but my own body. I did not stop to think the entire match! All was instinct, trained reflex and God's blessing, and I LOVED it!
I felt invincible for weeks afterwards. But when school started back up again, the feeling faded, and why? Because in the real world, it didn't matter that I had just had my life's crowning, glorious achievement. I still had to make grades so I could graduate, get into college, get a degree so that I could get a job to earn money. My employers won't give a rat's rootie-patootie that I was once at the top of my game and could break four boards with a single blow. Four! That's the equivalent to a human skull, for crying out loud!
I hate it. I hate the fact that in this fallen world, even heroes have to bend to the ways of broken life. You know who I look up to? The people I want to emulate and be like? Not scholars, certainly, and DEFINITELY not intellectuals, theologians or philosophers. No, I look up to warriors! When I tried out for the Bartlett PD, you know what my eventual goal was? Not police chief or commissioner! SWAT team! Specifically, a sniper. I wanted to learn how to shoot well so that I could take down those people who wanted to hurt others, and do it well. And I still do!
I want to confront evil with a sword in my hand, not a book! I want to feel the edge of my blade biting deep and tearing it to pieces in righteous fury, not arguing it down in a debate! I want to yell my throat raw in a war cry lifted up to Heaven while my heart pounds in my ears and my feet dance in glorious combat! I SWEAR, there is NOTHING like it in the world!
:: sigh:: But it will never happen. I must resign myself to this. I begin to think now the closest I will ever get to real combat is in the SCA, and I think that with time, I can learn to live with that.
I am many things. I am also glad I wrote this. Now, maybe I can get back to living life and recognizing it for what it is...and learning to enjoy it.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Updates
Well, I have a lot to blog about again. For those of you who have not yet heard, my father's mother died recently, and I am in New Mexico for the services. The way I hear it, everyone's been doing pretty well, though I can't imagine how my grandfather is coping.
From all the pictures I've seen, and the way my father, aunts and uncles talk about them, my grandparents were so very deeply, passionately in love with each other. They have a wonderful story, and I wish I knew more than the fact that they married when he was 21 and she was 19, fresh out of high school. They had five children together. My uncle Dick, my aunt Pat, my father, and my aunts, Sally and Leesa. Now, Dick has a son, Tommy, Pat has a son named Ben (who also has a son) and two daughters, Megan, (who has two sons, Danny and Tyler) and Elise (who has a son named Aden and two stepdaughters). My father has my brother and me, Sally has a son named Jesse and a daughter named Melanie, and Leesa has two daughters, Joanne and Sarah.
It's good to see all of them again, especially so soon after the last time I saw them back in March. We'll sit and talk, and go through all the old photos and reminisce.
Went to Crown List, last weekend, too. Sir Havordh won...again. This will be the third time he's been king of Gleann Abhann alone. He's been king of Atlantia, too. Hopefully, this will be his last time. Don't get me wrong, I like him, and all, but there are others I like also, who I think would do very well on the throne, like Sir Elazar, whose squire Ashi was just informed that he will be knighted soon.
I didn't do much, this event. I watched, and I talked, and I helped where I could, but everything was already so well taken care of. I did get to do a bit of drumming, though, and I've missed that.
Oh, I almost forgot. The reason for the new picture is that being out here means being roughly 400 miles closer to Lanelle. I'm hoping to convince my parents to let me borrow the Yukon and spend a few nights with her and her parents, especially since we'll be staying here more than a week, unlike last time.
At the moment, my lady is troubled, and I would ask for prayer on her behalf as well as mine. Thank you, everyone, for keeping us in your thoughts.
I'll be posting more later, but it might be a bit angsty, and the pic might change, too, so maybe I should save it for tomorrow. In the meantime, God bless.
From all the pictures I've seen, and the way my father, aunts and uncles talk about them, my grandparents were so very deeply, passionately in love with each other. They have a wonderful story, and I wish I knew more than the fact that they married when he was 21 and she was 19, fresh out of high school. They had five children together. My uncle Dick, my aunt Pat, my father, and my aunts, Sally and Leesa. Now, Dick has a son, Tommy, Pat has a son named Ben (who also has a son) and two daughters, Megan, (who has two sons, Danny and Tyler) and Elise (who has a son named Aden and two stepdaughters). My father has my brother and me, Sally has a son named Jesse and a daughter named Melanie, and Leesa has two daughters, Joanne and Sarah.
It's good to see all of them again, especially so soon after the last time I saw them back in March. We'll sit and talk, and go through all the old photos and reminisce.
Went to Crown List, last weekend, too. Sir Havordh won...again. This will be the third time he's been king of Gleann Abhann alone. He's been king of Atlantia, too. Hopefully, this will be his last time. Don't get me wrong, I like him, and all, but there are others I like also, who I think would do very well on the throne, like Sir Elazar, whose squire Ashi was just informed that he will be knighted soon.
I didn't do much, this event. I watched, and I talked, and I helped where I could, but everything was already so well taken care of. I did get to do a bit of drumming, though, and I've missed that.
Oh, I almost forgot. The reason for the new picture is that being out here means being roughly 400 miles closer to Lanelle. I'm hoping to convince my parents to let me borrow the Yukon and spend a few nights with her and her parents, especially since we'll be staying here more than a week, unlike last time.
At the moment, my lady is troubled, and I would ask for prayer on her behalf as well as mine. Thank you, everyone, for keeping us in your thoughts.
I'll be posting more later, but it might be a bit angsty, and the pic might change, too, so maybe I should save it for tomorrow. In the meantime, God bless.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Frustration in Paradise
::sigh:: Well, thanks to the people who actually responded. By this point, I've got too much to blog about to not continue, so I will...continue, that is.
Firstly, the Barony of Grey Niche (Memphis) had it's annual event called Beltaine last weekend, and it was lots of fun. It was a brand new site out in the middle of the woods, which was perfect. The only drawbacks were that the kitchen was miniscule and there were no cabins. Neither were problems for me or Billy, since we daytripped and ate with Uther and Kenna's household. Dave and K.C. actually stopped by and had fun, too. There were lots of tournaments, including archery, in which I won a matched pair of tooled leather bracers. I'm gonna have to show them off sometime. Uther finally won the Silver Torc Tournament, which he's been trying to win for the past 15 years, and he and one of his good friends, Ashi, are now qualified for the annual Tournament of Champions. In court, Baron Dulinn "died" and was succeeded by the new baron and baroness, my friends Mahsheed and Dagan.
The next week was the last of my finals! Thank God, only a year left. On Thursday, Dad and I left for Clarksville for the Tennessee Classic shoot, sponsored by the Twin Oaks archery club. The land it's on is amazing. Nothing but one big, giant forest with hills and small mountains, a few fields, and large creek. I was in heaven for days! At the shoot, they also have what's called the Selfbow Challenge. You register for it, buy a stave, find a guide to teach you how to make a bow, and compete with it when you finish. I bought a stave last year, but didn't finish it, so I brought it back this year. Unfortunately, I took off too much wood in certain places, and now my bow has a bad hinge, which really can't be fixed unless I'm willing to turn it into a kid's bow, which I might do. It was very frustrating, though, and there were several points when I just wanted to chuck the whole thing into the campfire. On the up side, I did learn some cool tricks about stringmaking, which will come in really handy, especially since Dad bought some string for us to practice on. I also learned some cool methods of making fire without matches. I know, I know, standard Boy Scout stuff, but it was still lots of fun. There were flint-knappers, merchants and vendors, good food, great people, long walks, sweet shots and fun conversations.
The one problem I had with this weekend was with myself. I find myself utterly frustrated. I should have shot much MUCH better than I did, but most of it had to do with my bowstring. I was getting worried that it was beginning to fray, and I didn't want it to snap on me, so I switched it out for a bowstring I had made, and immediately and instantly shot like hell. Before I switched strings, I was able to pick a spot no bigger than a half dollar and consistently hit it from twenty yards. Now, I'm lucky to hit a pie plate from there. First I started getting arrow-porpoise, so I raised my nocking-point like a good little thinker, but now I've got arrow-fishtail! I know it's not my brace height, and I really don't think I'm shooting differently. I have absolutely no idea why my shooting has gone to pot. It's downright infuriating, and I find myself burning with a slow simmering anger that's not good for me.
Lanelle and I had a long conversation Friday night, too. We basically talked out the fact that we realized that we've gotten distracted with each other. Our focuses have not been God, and we need to change it, so we kicked around a few ideas and eventually settled on her idea to go a week being just friends. Let me say this emphatically: We're not breaking up or going separate ways! This idea/experiment is designed to remind us that we are supposed to be pushing each other towards God. The fact that we come closer together in the process is a pleasant by-product.
Like I said earlier, I'm angry with myself tonight. I should never have lost focus of my goal of pushing Lanelle closer to God, and I should never have goten so sidetracked with myself...and my archery, my passionate pastime, is suffering, and I don't know why. I'll go and see Ty later in the week, but until then, I guess I've got some soul-searching to do.
Please pray for me.
Firstly, the Barony of Grey Niche (Memphis) had it's annual event called Beltaine last weekend, and it was lots of fun. It was a brand new site out in the middle of the woods, which was perfect. The only drawbacks were that the kitchen was miniscule and there were no cabins. Neither were problems for me or Billy, since we daytripped and ate with Uther and Kenna's household. Dave and K.C. actually stopped by and had fun, too. There were lots of tournaments, including archery, in which I won a matched pair of tooled leather bracers. I'm gonna have to show them off sometime. Uther finally won the Silver Torc Tournament, which he's been trying to win for the past 15 years, and he and one of his good friends, Ashi, are now qualified for the annual Tournament of Champions. In court, Baron Dulinn "died" and was succeeded by the new baron and baroness, my friends Mahsheed and Dagan.
The next week was the last of my finals! Thank God, only a year left. On Thursday, Dad and I left for Clarksville for the Tennessee Classic shoot, sponsored by the Twin Oaks archery club. The land it's on is amazing. Nothing but one big, giant forest with hills and small mountains, a few fields, and large creek. I was in heaven for days! At the shoot, they also have what's called the Selfbow Challenge. You register for it, buy a stave, find a guide to teach you how to make a bow, and compete with it when you finish. I bought a stave last year, but didn't finish it, so I brought it back this year. Unfortunately, I took off too much wood in certain places, and now my bow has a bad hinge, which really can't be fixed unless I'm willing to turn it into a kid's bow, which I might do. It was very frustrating, though, and there were several points when I just wanted to chuck the whole thing into the campfire. On the up side, I did learn some cool tricks about stringmaking, which will come in really handy, especially since Dad bought some string for us to practice on. I also learned some cool methods of making fire without matches. I know, I know, standard Boy Scout stuff, but it was still lots of fun. There were flint-knappers, merchants and vendors, good food, great people, long walks, sweet shots and fun conversations.
The one problem I had with this weekend was with myself. I find myself utterly frustrated. I should have shot much MUCH better than I did, but most of it had to do with my bowstring. I was getting worried that it was beginning to fray, and I didn't want it to snap on me, so I switched it out for a bowstring I had made, and immediately and instantly shot like hell. Before I switched strings, I was able to pick a spot no bigger than a half dollar and consistently hit it from twenty yards. Now, I'm lucky to hit a pie plate from there. First I started getting arrow-porpoise, so I raised my nocking-point like a good little thinker, but now I've got arrow-fishtail! I know it's not my brace height, and I really don't think I'm shooting differently. I have absolutely no idea why my shooting has gone to pot. It's downright infuriating, and I find myself burning with a slow simmering anger that's not good for me.
Lanelle and I had a long conversation Friday night, too. We basically talked out the fact that we realized that we've gotten distracted with each other. Our focuses have not been God, and we need to change it, so we kicked around a few ideas and eventually settled on her idea to go a week being just friends. Let me say this emphatically: We're not breaking up or going separate ways! This idea/experiment is designed to remind us that we are supposed to be pushing each other towards God. The fact that we come closer together in the process is a pleasant by-product.
Like I said earlier, I'm angry with myself tonight. I should never have lost focus of my goal of pushing Lanelle closer to God, and I should never have goten so sidetracked with myself...and my archery, my passionate pastime, is suffering, and I don't know why. I'll go and see Ty later in the week, but until then, I guess I've got some soul-searching to do.
Please pray for me.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Roll Call
Alright, that does it! My map says people have visited this blog from Tennessee, Florida, California, Alaska, Colorado, Texas, Louisiana, Kansas, Mississippi, Georgia, Missouri, Ohio, Wisconsin, Oregon, and various parts of New England. And that's from America ALONE! I've also got one each from Mexico, Canada, England, Germany, Australia and even one of those countries up in Scandinavia (sorry, whoever you are, for not being better up on my geography).
Now, as flattered as I am at how widespread all this attention is coming from...I'd REALLY like to know who you people are! I know the comments list for this post is going to be astronomically long, but you know what? I don't care! Whoever you are, wherever you are, please let me know! Or heck, you don't even have to put down your name! If you want to, you can just remain anonymous, as long as you type in from where you're reading. THANK YOU!
P.S. Yes, I do expect at least one post from every single one of my personal friends! Love you guys! And no, I will NOT make another post until I am satisfied at the number of people who have responded!
Now, as flattered as I am at how widespread all this attention is coming from...I'd REALLY like to know who you people are! I know the comments list for this post is going to be astronomically long, but you know what? I don't care! Whoever you are, wherever you are, please let me know! Or heck, you don't even have to put down your name! If you want to, you can just remain anonymous, as long as you type in from where you're reading. THANK YOU!
P.S. Yes, I do expect at least one post from every single one of my personal friends! Love you guys! And no, I will NOT make another post until I am satisfied at the number of people who have responded!
Monday, April 14, 2008
In The Shadows of Greatness
I think my blog is becoming more of an SCA journal than anything else, but I think that's ok. A lot fo what I learn in life and about life comes from my SCA life.
But last weekend started with a few days before I left for Coronation. On Wendnesday, Billy, Liza, Mike, Sam and I got together for dinner and some games, and it's always such a good time when we're all together. I watched "Stick It" for the first time and enjoyed it, although after viewing, I wondered on whether the title actually referred to a gymnast's sticking a perfect landing, or perhaps, given the plot line, it referred to the gymnasts telling the unfair judges they could just Stick It...you know...
Thursday, nothing exciting happened, really, except that I went over to William of Glen Lyon's house so that he could show me how to pad my new helmet. We ate dinner together and watched the new episodes of CSI and Without A Trace. Good stuff with great people. If I'm not a squire by then, it will be very hard to decide if I want to be one to Will or to Caedmon. They're both incredible people, and I love them dearly.
Once I got to Coronation, I found that once again, someone had cancelled, so I filled their cabin and feast space...Thank God, because that night stormed something terrible. Caedmon was in the cabin with me, and we talked the good talks that camping buddies talk.
God bless, that site...it's the same site used for Gulf Wars, and I hate it. I mean, without the war, and a few extra thousand people, it seems like such a ghost town. The place is well-night desolate. I have pictures, if anyone's interested, though after I unpacked, I lost my camera and did not find it again until I packed up again, so unfortunately, I have no pics of the event itself. Go figure.
The next day was the day of William and Onora's Coronation, which meant that Uther and Kenna had to either step down or die...and a great and filling day it was!
As I've discussed earlier, they have Crusader personas, so they modeled their reign after that of the Leper King, Baldwin IV. In reference to "Kingdom of Heaven" Uther wore a gorgeous mask. After dozens of awards were given, the last order of business was to rward the Telemark household for various services they have performed.
In Gleann Abhann, we have a tradition when we want to praise someone, or to get the fighters' blood up before a battle. Someone will shout "ALL" and everyone responds with "HAIL!" This is traditionally done three times. Uther gave it once, and we responded. He gave it twice, and we shouted again...but he did not call a third time. All eyes turned to the great Ram Throne, where sat our king, slumped over. Mistress Brigit took his pulse, but shook her head. Uther, our beloved, glorious, shining example of everything a knight, and then a king, should be, had finally succumbed to his malady, and gone.
Queen Kenna took a moment and knelt before their children, then stood and addressed the populace. She gave a speech then, and I cannot recall it's entirety, but the gist of it was that the day we had all been long dreading had finally arrived. As badly as Uther wanted to stay with us, he could not, and she thought it fitting that he should leave so close to the fields of combat that he so loved. She asked his bodyguards to go and prepare him for his final journey. Ali, James the Holy, Dex, Sir Sa'ad, Dagan and I went outside and brought in the cot that had been laid there ahead of time. Dex and James laid him gently to rest, crossing his arms and feet (because he was a Crusader) and covered him with a white silken cloth. Queen Kenna then continued, saying that Uther was her rock, and that she could not govern the kingdom alone, but would spend the rest of her days in seclusion.
She went to her heirs and told them that they were strong enough to ascend to the thrones and lead the kingdom. She gave them each a token. To Onora, she gave the great red jewel brooch (referred to lovingly by the populace as "The Precious") called The Heart of the Ram, saying that this symbolized the heart of the people. You have their trust and their love. To William, she bestowed the Sword of State, telling him to protect his people. To this he solemnly swore. Finally, she called the kingdom seneschal, Master Erik, forward, saying that she would relinquish her crown "Is this what you want?" "I must." "As you wish," and he received her crown. At her words, we six took up the cot once more, carrying it out of the hall in absolute silence. I have never been more honored than to be one of those chosen to bear Uther from that hall, and yet, I also have never taken up a task so sadly.
But once we carried him out, that was the end of the tears. The rest of the day was spent in happy pastime as William and Onora formally took the thrones, being anointed by Father Gilbert of the Hospitallers and then accepting the Oaths of Fealty by their entourage, the general populace, the Royal Peers, the landed nobility and court barons and baronesses, and all the other Peers. Finally, they began their court proper, giving out several awards. The last order of business was to elevate Uther and Kenna to the status of count and countess (that's the way it works: serve as crown once, become count and countess; serve as crown twice or more, become duke and duchess). For those women who have served as Queen, they also have a special order called the Order of the Rose. Kenna was formally inducted into that.
After court, the only interesting thing for the rest of the day was the King's Champion Tournament. Since Uther had tweaked his elbow during Gulf Wars, he had to fight left-handed...but he STILL won!
Feast was fondue, and that was much fun, though there wasn't quite enough food, and the cheese just wouldn't stay melted. After that was the ball, which wasn't very long, but was also much fun! After that, everyone pretty much wandered from place to lace, not least of which was the Green Dragon, where most of the celebrating and merymaking was going on.
The next day, I packed and helped others pack. Uther and family and I were the last ones from Grey Niche to leave site. We had lunch together and spent some good time talking about the event. Once home, I helped them unpack and went home to unpack myself. This morning, I found my worst fears true: Every single time I go to that site, I come away with a sunburn, and this time, I have a cold. My nose and throat have gone completely wompy-jawed. Help me!
In retrospect, I find myself wishing I had done more...again. At the very least, I could have fought in the King's Champion tournament. I would have been terribly beaten, but I would have at least been able to say I had fought and now had the experience. Coronation is always our big Pomp and Circumstance, ceremonial event, along with Crown List. Great names and lots of people show up, and there is never a shortage of things to do, or people to serve. I must do better, next time. I will fight, and I will serve.
Incidentally, next time happens to be in Bartlett, two weeks from this past Saturday. There will be much archery, fighting, and live weapons. I'm going to have to do a LOT of practice!
But last weekend started with a few days before I left for Coronation. On Wendnesday, Billy, Liza, Mike, Sam and I got together for dinner and some games, and it's always such a good time when we're all together. I watched "Stick It" for the first time and enjoyed it, although after viewing, I wondered on whether the title actually referred to a gymnast's sticking a perfect landing, or perhaps, given the plot line, it referred to the gymnasts telling the unfair judges they could just Stick It...you know...
Thursday, nothing exciting happened, really, except that I went over to William of Glen Lyon's house so that he could show me how to pad my new helmet. We ate dinner together and watched the new episodes of CSI and Without A Trace. Good stuff with great people. If I'm not a squire by then, it will be very hard to decide if I want to be one to Will or to Caedmon. They're both incredible people, and I love them dearly.
Once I got to Coronation, I found that once again, someone had cancelled, so I filled their cabin and feast space...Thank God, because that night stormed something terrible. Caedmon was in the cabin with me, and we talked the good talks that camping buddies talk.
God bless, that site...it's the same site used for Gulf Wars, and I hate it. I mean, without the war, and a few extra thousand people, it seems like such a ghost town. The place is well-night desolate. I have pictures, if anyone's interested, though after I unpacked, I lost my camera and did not find it again until I packed up again, so unfortunately, I have no pics of the event itself. Go figure.
The next day was the day of William and Onora's Coronation, which meant that Uther and Kenna had to either step down or die...and a great and filling day it was!
As I've discussed earlier, they have Crusader personas, so they modeled their reign after that of the Leper King, Baldwin IV. In reference to "Kingdom of Heaven" Uther wore a gorgeous mask. After dozens of awards were given, the last order of business was to rward the Telemark household for various services they have performed.
In Gleann Abhann, we have a tradition when we want to praise someone, or to get the fighters' blood up before a battle. Someone will shout "ALL" and everyone responds with "HAIL!" This is traditionally done three times. Uther gave it once, and we responded. He gave it twice, and we shouted again...but he did not call a third time. All eyes turned to the great Ram Throne, where sat our king, slumped over. Mistress Brigit took his pulse, but shook her head. Uther, our beloved, glorious, shining example of everything a knight, and then a king, should be, had finally succumbed to his malady, and gone.
Queen Kenna took a moment and knelt before their children, then stood and addressed the populace. She gave a speech then, and I cannot recall it's entirety, but the gist of it was that the day we had all been long dreading had finally arrived. As badly as Uther wanted to stay with us, he could not, and she thought it fitting that he should leave so close to the fields of combat that he so loved. She asked his bodyguards to go and prepare him for his final journey. Ali, James the Holy, Dex, Sir Sa'ad, Dagan and I went outside and brought in the cot that had been laid there ahead of time. Dex and James laid him gently to rest, crossing his arms and feet (because he was a Crusader) and covered him with a white silken cloth. Queen Kenna then continued, saying that Uther was her rock, and that she could not govern the kingdom alone, but would spend the rest of her days in seclusion.
She went to her heirs and told them that they were strong enough to ascend to the thrones and lead the kingdom. She gave them each a token. To Onora, she gave the great red jewel brooch (referred to lovingly by the populace as "The Precious") called The Heart of the Ram, saying that this symbolized the heart of the people. You have their trust and their love. To William, she bestowed the Sword of State, telling him to protect his people. To this he solemnly swore. Finally, she called the kingdom seneschal, Master Erik, forward, saying that she would relinquish her crown "Is this what you want?" "I must." "As you wish," and he received her crown. At her words, we six took up the cot once more, carrying it out of the hall in absolute silence. I have never been more honored than to be one of those chosen to bear Uther from that hall, and yet, I also have never taken up a task so sadly.
But once we carried him out, that was the end of the tears. The rest of the day was spent in happy pastime as William and Onora formally took the thrones, being anointed by Father Gilbert of the Hospitallers and then accepting the Oaths of Fealty by their entourage, the general populace, the Royal Peers, the landed nobility and court barons and baronesses, and all the other Peers. Finally, they began their court proper, giving out several awards. The last order of business was to elevate Uther and Kenna to the status of count and countess (that's the way it works: serve as crown once, become count and countess; serve as crown twice or more, become duke and duchess). For those women who have served as Queen, they also have a special order called the Order of the Rose. Kenna was formally inducted into that.
After court, the only interesting thing for the rest of the day was the King's Champion Tournament. Since Uther had tweaked his elbow during Gulf Wars, he had to fight left-handed...but he STILL won!
Feast was fondue, and that was much fun, though there wasn't quite enough food, and the cheese just wouldn't stay melted. After that was the ball, which wasn't very long, but was also much fun! After that, everyone pretty much wandered from place to lace, not least of which was the Green Dragon, where most of the celebrating and merymaking was going on.
The next day, I packed and helped others pack. Uther and family and I were the last ones from Grey Niche to leave site. We had lunch together and spent some good time talking about the event. Once home, I helped them unpack and went home to unpack myself. This morning, I found my worst fears true: Every single time I go to that site, I come away with a sunburn, and this time, I have a cold. My nose and throat have gone completely wompy-jawed. Help me!
In retrospect, I find myself wishing I had done more...again. At the very least, I could have fought in the King's Champion tournament. I would have been terribly beaten, but I would have at least been able to say I had fought and now had the experience. Coronation is always our big Pomp and Circumstance, ceremonial event, along with Crown List. Great names and lots of people show up, and there is never a shortage of things to do, or people to serve. I must do better, next time. I will fight, and I will serve.
Incidentally, next time happens to be in Bartlett, two weeks from this past Saturday. There will be much archery, fighting, and live weapons. I'm going to have to do a LOT of practice!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
A Living Anachronism
This post is related to the last one, which is why I have not changed the picture, but here I begin to highlight the side of knighthood I did not touch on last time. I have spoken many times, now, of how knighthood is the highest honor than can be bestowed upon a fighter, and how to become a knight, one needs not only skill, but also courage, leadership, and chivalry...but the other hand says that skill is what also separates a good, chivalrous man from a knight. Knights are good, yes, honorable, of course, humble, mostly, but they are also WARRIORS.
::sigh:: This is going to be one of those times where I voice my opinion that technology (except in the fields of medicine and sanitation) should have stopped with the bicycle. If I did not believe that God doesn't make mistakes, I would believe wholeheartedly that I was born 800 years too late. Of course, I acknowledge that had I been born back then, not only would I most likely been born to the poor representative of the majority of the medieval population, the serf, but my life expectancy would have dropped drastically. If that had been the case, assuming I lived to the age of sixteen, I think I would have simply taken my bow and a knife and run; just faded into the forest and tried to live out my life in blissful avoidance of capture because I would be breaking the king's Forest Law.
Now, let's assume that I had been born into a higher class. Now, I think about what I would have been taught: how to manage property, how to ride properly, how to dance...and how to fight. At the very least, with a sword and shield, but also probably with spear, knife, and axe. I would have learned how to throw my weapons, if needed, I would have learned battle tactics, and how to lead men, and how to repair my own armor...this is sounding familiar...
Oh THAT'S right! I learn this stuff on most weekends anyway. The SCA has taught me many things, and a lot of them span time to apply in my life now: things like humility, among others. Of course, the more enjoyable skills I now possess are almost completely useless in the modern context. I can shoot straight, throw well, fix armor passably, ride enthusiastically and fight tolerably, but...who needs it, these days?
I briefly considered a career in the military before understanding that it was not my calling. I would have enjoyed what I was being taught, if not the teaching process. Every boy daydreams of being a hero. The Marines call themselves (and I believe them) the greatest warriors on Earth. Who WOULDN'T want to be called one of them?! The modern Spartans! But that's not for me.
Makes me wonder what I AM meant for. I am certain God has a plan. I just wish I knew what it was that I need this kind of knowledge for it. Any ideas, anyone?
::sigh:: This is going to be one of those times where I voice my opinion that technology (except in the fields of medicine and sanitation) should have stopped with the bicycle. If I did not believe that God doesn't make mistakes, I would believe wholeheartedly that I was born 800 years too late. Of course, I acknowledge that had I been born back then, not only would I most likely been born to the poor representative of the majority of the medieval population, the serf, but my life expectancy would have dropped drastically. If that had been the case, assuming I lived to the age of sixteen, I think I would have simply taken my bow and a knife and run; just faded into the forest and tried to live out my life in blissful avoidance of capture because I would be breaking the king's Forest Law.
Now, let's assume that I had been born into a higher class. Now, I think about what I would have been taught: how to manage property, how to ride properly, how to dance...and how to fight. At the very least, with a sword and shield, but also probably with spear, knife, and axe. I would have learned how to throw my weapons, if needed, I would have learned battle tactics, and how to lead men, and how to repair my own armor...this is sounding familiar...
Oh THAT'S right! I learn this stuff on most weekends anyway. The SCA has taught me many things, and a lot of them span time to apply in my life now: things like humility, among others. Of course, the more enjoyable skills I now possess are almost completely useless in the modern context. I can shoot straight, throw well, fix armor passably, ride enthusiastically and fight tolerably, but...who needs it, these days?
I briefly considered a career in the military before understanding that it was not my calling. I would have enjoyed what I was being taught, if not the teaching process. Every boy daydreams of being a hero. The Marines call themselves (and I believe them) the greatest warriors on Earth. Who WOULDN'T want to be called one of them?! The modern Spartans! But that's not for me.
Makes me wonder what I AM meant for. I am certain God has a plan. I just wish I knew what it was that I need this kind of knowledge for it. Any ideas, anyone?
Monday, March 24, 2008
Return to Chivalry
I think I'm coming back, somewhat, to something I left behind a long time ago when I began to grow up. When I was more of a dreamer than was good for me, I remember myself being more the gentleman than I am now. I guess I got caught up in the thought that everyone on Earth except me believed chivalry was dead, so that the burden of reviving chivalry rested on my shoulders alone. It was arrogant of me, and now that I've been around a while longer, I can see how wrong I was. The world, and especially the SCA, is absolutely stuffed with people for whom chivalry is their entire way of life. When I discovered this, I suppose I began to relax more and have fun. Too much of that got me into relationship problems and lots of drama in my social life. Now, here I am: older, in love, and relatively drama-free. Perhaps now is the time when I can attempt to temper my informality with the gentle reverance of chivalry again.
Last night, Mike, Liza, Billy and I had an Indiana Jones marathon in anticipation of the fourth movie coming out in May. Again, we all agreed that the last one is the best one. At the end, the Grail Knight reminded me of Sir Thomas of Aylesbury. In the above photograph, taken at Uther and Kenna's Coronation ceremony last year, he is the Templar staning next to me, holding his sword. After the ceremony, many people commented on how cool he looked, but Caedmon came up to him and said "We should have asked you to go up to someone with a goblet and say 'You have chosen...poorly.' " Sir Thomas, being a man of good humor, laughed and said he would have done it, if anyone had thought of it soon enough.
The reason I bring him up is because my search for a knight to become a squire to continues, and seeing the movie brought him to mind again. It would be very cool, I think, if he, as a Templar, took me, another Templar, as a squire...but I hesitate to ask any knight to be their squire outright. Such a boldness would be rude of me, I think. Another reason I hesitate is because though I like Sir Thomas very much, I know very little of him, save for that he is a close personal friend of Uther and Kenna's. I have no idea what his fighting style is like, if he desires to take a squire at this point, or if he even fights anymore. I don't suppose it's really practical to think of becoming his squire...but still, the dream will not leave, and I don't know why.
I think Gulf Wars got to me a lot, too. Gulf Wars always does something to me. Serving on entourage for this reign really drove home how happy I get when I am serving. Mike, Liza, and Billy, God bless them eternally, taught me what it really means to be there for friends, and this was only their first or second event! I will never forget the kindness shown to me and so many others by so many people.
Now that the Grand Exhibition Tournament has passed, I'm going to be getting back into fighting more, too. I will never abandon archery. In many ways, I AM a bow. Simple enough to look at and understand, but put me under stress and I may surprise you! The longbow is my first love, one of my life's passions, and it will always be with me. But my dream, one of my life's goals since childhood, has always been to become a knight, and I can't do that with my bow.
Watching Drogo's vigil reminded me that there is more to knighthood than good combat, too. Matter of fact, of the knights whom Gleann Abhann has made, none of them had ever become king before their knighthood, and I can think of many other knights who have never won Crown List. This proves that skill alone is not what makes a man a knight.
They are warriors, leaders and servants all rolled up into one. On the tournament fields, they are brave enough to step onto it, clever enough to think on their feet, quick enough to strike at the right opportunity, and strong enough to carry it home. On the field of battle, they are inspiring enough to lead the men and women they command, obedient enough to receive the orders given to them from their Crown, and capable enough to carry them out effectively.
Off the fields, they are courteous to anyone and everyone they meet, always lending helping hands, ever kind enough to think of others before themselves.
First was Francois Duvant, who founded a dynasty of chivalry the world could never have anticipated. One of his squires was Beorn Collenferth, who squired Phelan Cathaoir-Mor, who squired Merwyyd of Effington, my household father, and Manfred von Rothenburg, who squired William Fitzhugh de Cambria, who will be the next (sixth) king of Gleann Abhann. But Francois's more famous squire was John the Bearkiller, who won Crown List on five separate occasions, and has taught and led men in combat for more than thirty years, and whose name is now recognized literally around the entire world. One of his squires was Lee Fribrand who has now become a legend, whose style is now the most copied style of fighting in the SCA, and whose name is now whispered with reverance as a man whose chivalry and kindness was, and still is, without equal. One of Lee's squires was Michael of the Mace, who has squired Caedmon of Jorvik and Katil, the lady who first got me into the SCA. Another of Lee's squires was mighty Luther von Ziemer, whose glaive is feared more than any other's in the kingdom, and who is the older brother to another of John the Bearkiller's squires, Uther von Ziemer, first knight of Gleann Abhann, and it's fifth king. I have already spoken of what I think of Uther, and I will not repeat the entire diatribe here; only that he is still everything I long to be in a knight, and the best fighter I have ever seen. To be his squire would be the pinnacle of honors, the highest I have ever received...but I think it is not to be. That also, is covered in an earlier post. Another of John's squires was Padruig dubh Cloghad, third king of Gleann Abhann, as well as Rey Ribeaument, Thomas of Aylesbury, and Andras Salamandra, who squired Lawrence of Ashana, who squired Gareth le Bruin, who famously gave up the white belt of knighthood.
There are others known around the SCA. Sir Trudy, the first female knight, and Sir Paul Bellatrix, who has sons and even grandsons by blood who have become dukes (someone who has won Crown List twice or more) were both at Gulf Wars, and Sir Trudy even wore my sword during Great Court. There are many other dynasties, too, such as that of Kane Redfeather, who squired many, such as Rashid ibn Hilal (who squired Sa'ad ibn Yusuf al Hilal and Dagan al Rashid ibn Hilal) Tar Radu, first king of Gleann Abhann, Loric Silvestris, Brian Mac Brand, and Stephan Wolfe, who squired Caillin Macleod, Elazar of Northumbria, Eric of Chester (who squired Uric Blackoak) and Aengus Mac Owein (who squired Seth of Newcastle).
These are but only a few of the men and women whose ranks I long to be counted among. They ARE chivalry. They are my dream.
They are soldiers.
They are heroes.
They are knights.
Last night, Mike, Liza, Billy and I had an Indiana Jones marathon in anticipation of the fourth movie coming out in May. Again, we all agreed that the last one is the best one. At the end, the Grail Knight reminded me of Sir Thomas of Aylesbury. In the above photograph, taken at Uther and Kenna's Coronation ceremony last year, he is the Templar staning next to me, holding his sword. After the ceremony, many people commented on how cool he looked, but Caedmon came up to him and said "We should have asked you to go up to someone with a goblet and say 'You have chosen...poorly.' " Sir Thomas, being a man of good humor, laughed and said he would have done it, if anyone had thought of it soon enough.
The reason I bring him up is because my search for a knight to become a squire to continues, and seeing the movie brought him to mind again. It would be very cool, I think, if he, as a Templar, took me, another Templar, as a squire...but I hesitate to ask any knight to be their squire outright. Such a boldness would be rude of me, I think. Another reason I hesitate is because though I like Sir Thomas very much, I know very little of him, save for that he is a close personal friend of Uther and Kenna's. I have no idea what his fighting style is like, if he desires to take a squire at this point, or if he even fights anymore. I don't suppose it's really practical to think of becoming his squire...but still, the dream will not leave, and I don't know why.
I think Gulf Wars got to me a lot, too. Gulf Wars always does something to me. Serving on entourage for this reign really drove home how happy I get when I am serving. Mike, Liza, and Billy, God bless them eternally, taught me what it really means to be there for friends, and this was only their first or second event! I will never forget the kindness shown to me and so many others by so many people.
Now that the Grand Exhibition Tournament has passed, I'm going to be getting back into fighting more, too. I will never abandon archery. In many ways, I AM a bow. Simple enough to look at and understand, but put me under stress and I may surprise you! The longbow is my first love, one of my life's passions, and it will always be with me. But my dream, one of my life's goals since childhood, has always been to become a knight, and I can't do that with my bow.
Watching Drogo's vigil reminded me that there is more to knighthood than good combat, too. Matter of fact, of the knights whom Gleann Abhann has made, none of them had ever become king before their knighthood, and I can think of many other knights who have never won Crown List. This proves that skill alone is not what makes a man a knight.
They are warriors, leaders and servants all rolled up into one. On the tournament fields, they are brave enough to step onto it, clever enough to think on their feet, quick enough to strike at the right opportunity, and strong enough to carry it home. On the field of battle, they are inspiring enough to lead the men and women they command, obedient enough to receive the orders given to them from their Crown, and capable enough to carry them out effectively.
Off the fields, they are courteous to anyone and everyone they meet, always lending helping hands, ever kind enough to think of others before themselves.
First was Francois Duvant, who founded a dynasty of chivalry the world could never have anticipated. One of his squires was Beorn Collenferth, who squired Phelan Cathaoir-Mor, who squired Merwyyd of Effington, my household father, and Manfred von Rothenburg, who squired William Fitzhugh de Cambria, who will be the next (sixth) king of Gleann Abhann. But Francois's more famous squire was John the Bearkiller, who won Crown List on five separate occasions, and has taught and led men in combat for more than thirty years, and whose name is now recognized literally around the entire world. One of his squires was Lee Fribrand who has now become a legend, whose style is now the most copied style of fighting in the SCA, and whose name is now whispered with reverance as a man whose chivalry and kindness was, and still is, without equal. One of Lee's squires was Michael of the Mace, who has squired Caedmon of Jorvik and Katil, the lady who first got me into the SCA. Another of Lee's squires was mighty Luther von Ziemer, whose glaive is feared more than any other's in the kingdom, and who is the older brother to another of John the Bearkiller's squires, Uther von Ziemer, first knight of Gleann Abhann, and it's fifth king. I have already spoken of what I think of Uther, and I will not repeat the entire diatribe here; only that he is still everything I long to be in a knight, and the best fighter I have ever seen. To be his squire would be the pinnacle of honors, the highest I have ever received...but I think it is not to be. That also, is covered in an earlier post. Another of John's squires was Padruig dubh Cloghad, third king of Gleann Abhann, as well as Rey Ribeaument, Thomas of Aylesbury, and Andras Salamandra, who squired Lawrence of Ashana, who squired Gareth le Bruin, who famously gave up the white belt of knighthood.
There are others known around the SCA. Sir Trudy, the first female knight, and Sir Paul Bellatrix, who has sons and even grandsons by blood who have become dukes (someone who has won Crown List twice or more) were both at Gulf Wars, and Sir Trudy even wore my sword during Great Court. There are many other dynasties, too, such as that of Kane Redfeather, who squired many, such as Rashid ibn Hilal (who squired Sa'ad ibn Yusuf al Hilal and Dagan al Rashid ibn Hilal) Tar Radu, first king of Gleann Abhann, Loric Silvestris, Brian Mac Brand, and Stephan Wolfe, who squired Caillin Macleod, Elazar of Northumbria, Eric of Chester (who squired Uric Blackoak) and Aengus Mac Owein (who squired Seth of Newcastle).
These are but only a few of the men and women whose ranks I long to be counted among. They ARE chivalry. They are my dream.
They are soldiers.
They are heroes.
They are knights.
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