17th Annual Carolina Renaissance Festival - Alternate title: Who is Clevis, Dad?

I just finished an article on the 17th Annual Carolina Renaissance Festival on the Examiner. ( Renfest article ) In the article, I touched on some of the basics about the festival, but there were a few things that I could not put in there that I can put in the blog.  Some of the things that made me laugh, chuckle, smile, and remember why I love being a dad.

The festival was very much like the Maryland Renaissance Festival; full of vendors peddling their goods, lots of food to purchase - some of it really really good, some not so much -, cold beer to enjoy (which might have been good if it wasn't so cold outside and idiot me wasn't wearing shorts and a tee-shirt), awesome costumes, great performances, cool swords, neat jousting tournaments, and cleavage. Yes, I said cleavage, but I am not going to discuss that...yet.

The festival was all that I had hoped for...well, except for having to park at the very far edge of the parking lot and having to walk two miles before actually entering the gate. As we approached the gate, my son's enthusiasm began to shine as if he just hit the million dollar jackpot.  Dressed in makeshift renaissance gear, complete with his homemade (made by yours truly) shield, Oklahoma Medieval Faire  purchased sword, and a white tee-shirt decorated by Sharpie with his own designs, he was ready to experience all that North Carolina Renaissance Festival had to offer...in his Chuck Taylor high tops...The participants of the festival, and some of the patrons, were dressed in period costume, and yes, there was some cleavage...but that is still for later.

Immediately after entering the gate, he wanted to run to every store that had anything to do with hats, swords, or knight armor.  Unfortunately for him, his mother, me, and his aunt pulled back on the reigns and kept him at bay.  Don't worry, he got to do plenty of what he wanted, so I did not earn the title of "Worst Dad Ever!" from him...yet.

His excitement popped into overdrive as he saw the wooden ships go round and round.  With enthusiasm, he politely asked if he could ride them.  Then he asked if I would go on it with him.  Now, these "ships" were more like wooden dinghies that could hold one average sized person, or two small kids.  My son is not a small kid, and I am 6'3" 250lbs.  Needless to say, I did not go on the ride with him.

After I got over the initial shock of the price to sit in a wooden tub and go around in a circle, I changed lenses on the camera and tried to snap off a few shots.  I did not look at them until today...the joy on his face left me wanting to relive the moment and my own childhood when life was so much easier.  How often do we, as adults, pay three bucks for anything that makes us grin from ear to ear?  Maybe we need to search harder for those moments, or perhaps we need to cherish the moments our kids feel when it is happening, and not wait to see them through the memory card stuck in the computer.  Either way, I am really glad I spent those three bucks on those silly dinghies!

As the day progressed, he got to try on helmets, play with swords, and stuff his face with yummy treats (as did I).  At the end of the day, he hustled front row seats in the jousting arena, to watch the final joust - the fight to the death!  Our knight was Sir Maximilian, that mean, cheating, dark knight...who kicked butt, but in the end, good always wins.

Exhausted, cold, and ready to walk the two miles back to the car, we headed out to the parking lot after checking out the remainder of the village.  Sir Max must not have suffered major wounds because he was standing at the exit gate, so we snapped a few pictures.

After the long trek through the wilderness (parking lot), we finally arrived to our chariot.  We had to take my sister home and decided to stop in to say hey to my brother-in-law.  As we were discussing the day, I mentioned to him that he missed out on some good sights...cleavage, to be precise.  His eyes opened wide and he said something along the lines of, "What?  If I had known about the cleavage, I would have gone!"  It was at this point I found out my son is still a kid...thank God.  His response was, "Dad, who is Clevis?"  "Clevis?" I asked, "Yeah, Clevis." he repeated.  All I could think to say, between the chuckles, was, "Don't worry, one day you will understand when you meet those twins yourself."

Don't forget to check out the Examiner article and thanks for reading!
Examiner Link