New Jersey and The Roland Effect

Moving to New Jersey has obviously had devastating effects. Our arrival coincided with The Garden State losing it's place as richest U.S. State.

Back in 2005, the median household income of New Jersey was higher than any of the other fifty states, but Tina and my arrival apparently nudged that average down. Now we've been overtaken by Maryland, where the median household income is $65,144 a year (674 dollars more than in New Jersey.)

It highlights an interesting disparity in American lives. If you live in Mississippi, the median household income is a mere $34,473 - almost half what it is up here in the Tri-State.

It's another reminder that America is a big place - and the fifty individual states are very much like their own countries, with customs, traditions and economies all of their own. Life in Mississippi must be more affordable than in New Jersey, because it would be tough to support a household on just $35,000 here in New Brunswick.

That being said, I am constantly reminding myself about The American Experience as compared to life back in blighty. In the UK, Tina and I had reasonable incomes and jobs and we barely scraped by. Every single month, we'd see more money trickle out of our bank account than came in. Here in America, even with the poorly paid temp jobs we'd been working while we got settled in, our bank account remained fairly healthy.

It's cheaper to live in America, plain and simple. Despite all the cars and the roads and the apparent crime (luckily we haven't encountered any so far) the quality of life in America is clearly better because two working people can afford to live here. In England, despite never going out, never spending money unnecessarily, we couldn't. We were teetering on the edge of a big black hole and thank goodness we left when we did - before it swallowed us whole.

A lot of fuss is made about the plight of the working Joe in the USA. From my own experiences, I have come to realise that the situation's far worse in England. It's the people who can afford it least who get squeezed the most and the gap between rich and poor is getting more and more insurmountable every day.

Here in America, there's the American Dream. Whether that's riches and glory - or just a white picket fence and a Bengal leopard cat - you get far more opportunity to achieve your dreams in America than you do back home.

Richest and Poorest states of the Union

Bar Tender Olympics

On Wednesday, it was time to saddle up and cross the Hudson for the 2007 Bartender Olympics on Long Island. That meant a trip over the George Washington Bridge.

We met up with Annie and cardsharp Ben at a Las Vegas themed TGI Fridays, where every year, they hold a Bartender Olympics to decide who is the best and brightest of the regional Friday's bartenders.

I only managed to catch Gina and Justin as they performed. Justin seemed slightly more handy 'flaring' (that means chucking bottles around and catching them) but Gina brought along four nautical nymphs who provided dance and stage support, all dressed in little sailor suits. That's the level of showmanship we're talking about, here.

Tina's cousin, Christina, officiated over each round and cheered on the home team.

Then, it was time to head to Checkers, the infamous bar where everybody does know your name and most of your sordid history, too. Bartender Dan wasn't in the running for the Olympics - but he earned a gold medal anyway for his legendary whiskey sours.

Dukes of Hazzard: The Beginning

The 2005 reinvention of The Dukes of Hazzard fared reasonably well at the box office, but failed to set critics and fans alight. Richard Roeper called it 'the worst film of 2005' and Roger Ebert called it a 'lame brained, outdated wheeze.'

I thought it was a lot of fun, but what does my opinion matter? Unlike Ebert and Roeper, I actually have to pay for my cinema tickets.

Modest the profits may have been, but The Dukes of Hazzard did return on Warner Brother's investment, so in order to milk their cash cow further, they put together a Direct-To-DVD prequel called Dukes of Hazzard: The Beginning.

With a budget of only $5 million (less than 10% of the original film's budget) it wasn't possible to bring back the movie's original stars, American Pie veteran Seann William Scott or Jackass jackass Johnny Knoxville. Willie Nelson did sign up for another run as Uncle Jesse, but when he's hard pressed for a buck, he'll do anything. (In 1992, he released the album "The IRS Tapes" specifically to settle his money problems with the Inland Revenue Service.)

The result is a pretty great pop-corn movie, with a fairly generic storyline but a great script. Some of the one liners and gags are hilarious - writer Shane Morris should be working for the Scary Movie team - and the car chases, gratuitous nudity and funny scenes with pigs are enough to satisfy most people's craving for Southern Fried silliness.

This time around Bo and Luke Duke are played by relative newcomers Jonathan Bennett and Randy Wayne. Bo is the handsome blond one, who likes to drive way to fast. Luke is the surly womaniser, who likes to 'blow shit up.'

Jonathan Bennett is actually quite good as Bos and has sharp comic timing. Randy Wayne's Luke is pretty much just ballast in the passenger seat of the General Lee.

And instead of Jessica Simpson, who filled her Daisy Dukes very convincingly in the original movie, the role of the Duke's beautiful cousin is played by April Scott. She's a very, very pretty girl, but looks like she weighs about 85lbs when soaking wet and simply doesn't have the curves (or the chutzpah) to pull off the role of the roughest, toughest gal in Georgia.

But the cast does their job. Joel Moore, as mechanic Cooter, deserves a special mention for his crazy antics and one-liners. Second rate comic Harland Williams steals every scene he's in by clutching an adorable puppy under his arm (maybe Randy Wayne should have tried that.) Nineties sex-idol Sherilyn Fenn has a cameo as Boss Hogg's frustrated wife and looks very good doing it. When Randy Wayne rejects her advances, you have to wonder if his version of Luke Duke has gone all Brokeback Mountain on us.

Highlights include assembling the General Lee (this time around, only the driver's side door is welded shut, purely as a plot device to enable the Duke boys to bundle Boss Hogg into the back of their car) and a scene with the Boss' prize pig balancing on a rooftop. Low spots involve every scene in which Randy Wayne opens his mouth and the final amazing 'jump' by the General Lee, which is very clearly computer edited.

Back in my day, they used to make the crazy jumps like that for real.

Dukes of Hazzard: The Beginning is available from Blockbuster and most DVD shops.

Little Known Fact...

I've always been one for naming my cars. My first car, a beautiful red Triumph TR7, I called 'Tiffany.'

My other big, red car - a Pontiac Firebird - was called Tiffany II. Hardly original.


Actually, there's a long and sordid history behind naming cars. One of the first was Traveler [sic], a '58 Chrylser 300D which was used by real-life Moonshine runner Jerry Rushing, whose exploits later inspired The Dukes of Hazzard and Smokey and the Bandit.


The real Traveller (Rushing misspelled his car's name) was actually General Lee's horse during the American Civil War. This beast was apparently one of the fastest horses in the world - and General Lee was buried next to his beloved mount when he was laid to rest.

Traveler was a worthy name indeed, then, for a mighty steel steed that could get up to 140mph with a trunk full of shine!

Jerry Rushing's biography inspired the 1974 movie Moonrunners and the hit TV classic The Dukes of Hazzard, both of which shared several characters and plot devices. Instead of Traveler, however, the Duke boys drove in a souped-up '69 Dodge Charger called the General Lee.


A car nearly as famous as The General was the '77 Pontiac Trans Am driven by Burt Reynolds in the awesome movie Smokey and the Bandit. Not many people know that this brutal muscle car was actually christened 'Trigger' in the second movie, after Roy Roger's trusted steed.


In the 1980 sequel, therefore, co-star Jerry Reed christens the replacement Trans Am 'Son of Trigger' although while evading Sheriff Justice's 'howd purswud' Burt Reynolds pats the dashboard and murmers the original name: "Come on, Trigger."


And the third Bandit car? Well, there's no Burt Reynolds this time around, but Jerry Reed (disguised as The Bandit) does refer to it as the "Banditmobile."


Not quite as catchy, is it?

One thing's for sure. Old cars have a lot more character than the generic boxes churned out in Japan and Korea. Giving an old muscle car or a vintage sportster a name seems to make sense. Call a Hyundai anything other than 'a car' and it seems somewhat unseamly.

Driving in New Jersey

These are the rules, as far as I can figure them out:

1. All traffic laws must be obeyed whilst a cop is in view.


2. Signs that say: Stop, Yield, No Turns, No U-Turn, No Left Turn or No Turn on Red are only suggestions.


3. If an approaching car has it's turn signals on, it is going straight ahead. That signal has been on for about twenty minutes and the driver just hasn't noticed yet.


4. If an approaching car has no turn signals on, it might turn left or right sharply at any time.


5. Correct procedure at a junction is: Brake Sharply, Make Turn, Accelerate Sharply, Survey Carnage in Rear View Mirror.


6. The bigger car always has right of way.


7. He Who Has Insurance Wins.


8. If you spot a police car, slow down to 10mph, irrespective of the speed limit.


9. Every so often, sound your horn to check that it is still working.


10. Wait until the traffic light turns from red to green before applying lipstick/changing the radio. Ignore the angry honking behind you.


11. When an approaching light turns amber, hit the gas, irrespective of your chances of making the light before it turns red.


12. At a red light, you are authorised to turn right if there is no oncoming traffic or the oncoming traffic is smaller than you are.


13. At a red light marked: "No Turn On Red" you MUST NOT TURN RIGHT until you have clearly checked that there are no police cars behind you.


14. All vehicles in New Jersey must have a valid roadworthiness inspection sticker. These can be obtained for $100 irrespective of the car's actual roadworthiness.


15. If you can still see out of your back window, you don't have enough bumper stickers yet.


16. All campaign bumper stickers must be at least three years out of date, i.e. Bush/Cheney 2000 or Member of the Fraternity of Police 2001.

Identifying other road users:

• New Jersey State Licence Plates, on new or fairly new car: Legitimate, insured, registered New Jersey road user.


• New Jersey State Licence Plates, on old, beaten up or shoddy car: Legitimate, uninsured, registered New Jersey road user.


• New Jersey State Licence Plates, on Ford Crown Victoria: Unmarked police car.


• Out of state plates, such as Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Ohio, Maryland: Illegal immigrant driving uninsured car.


• Out of state plates, Florida: Car registered to Mommy and Daddy at their Florida holiday home.

Snakes on a Plane

Films like Serenity and Sahara have proven that there's gold to be found amongst movies that bombed at the box office. The pop corn guzzling masses might not have turned up during their release, but that doesn't mean the films aren't good.

One excellent example of explosive film making that failed to ignite the movie-going public is the Samuel L. Jackson movie Snakes on a Plane. Enormously hyped before it's release, especially on the Internet, the eager fans salivating for this flick apparently decided they had better things to do come release day.

Which is a pity, because when I caught it's premiere on cable television last night, I realised Snakes on a Plane was pure movie gold.

It's a ridiculous premise. In order to snuff out FBI witness Sean Jones (Nathan Phillips,) an evil Asian gangster (played by Byron Lawson) decides to release hundreds of venomous snakes on a Jumbo Jet flight to Los Angeles. The slithering cargo, all pepped up on snake pheromones, then proceed to wreak the kind of grisly chaos only celluloid can deliver.

It's the ultimate disaster movie, with all the 'screaming American' cliches you'd expect from the genre that gave us Airport and Towering Inferno. But from the moment Snakes on a Plane kicks into action - and a poor little Siamese pussy gets eaten by a rattlesnake - director David R. Ellis lets the audience know that nothing is sacred and none of the passengers can count on the cliches to guarantee their survival.

It's a triumphant movie, full of shocks and thrills. Every envelope you can think of is pushed to the limit. There's more abundant gore, slithering horror and ridiculous one liners than most Hollywood movies combined. Plus Samuel L. Jackson is as ridiculously charismatic as always.

Okay, it's not high brow. But as far as an evening of edge-of-your-seat entertainment goes, Snakes on a Plane delivers in abundance.

Goodbye Bear

Please visit Editorial Bear to see Dinsey's last post - plus a neat little music video.

What can I tell you? The bear's got style.

Gut Feelings...

In England, I suffered from terrible indigestion.

Heartburn. Acid Reflux. Call it what you want, but I was uncomfortable just about every night, with my stomach acids churning like a cement mixer.

I went to see various doctors about it (Gawd bless the NHS) but nobody quite knew what to do about it. I was given a couple of prescriptions of pills (mostly Proton Pump Inhibitors, which is the coolest name for a drug ever) and they worked - but as soon as the pills stopped, the reflux came back.

Now the weird thing...

The indigestion had started when I returned to Europe in the summer of 2003. Before then, I've never had any trouble at all. Since then, my stomach was gurgling like the fiery pit of Hades every evening. It was damn near intolerable. I mean, I went to a doctor and I don't normally do that for anything short of hemorrhage.

So two and a bit months ago, I move back to America and overnight, it goes.

No more indigestion.

Okay, maybe a twinge. I didn't feel quite right after Ronn's pool party, but I have a feeling that had more to do with Stoli Doli and tequila shots than any underlying physiological conditions.

But day to day? Not a peep. My stomach's as calm as the English Channel.

I have no idea what it is. My tantruming tummy remained calm even when I sloshed back beer and steak like I did in England. There's just some strange, unfathomable factor that soothes my turgid tum tum and I feel better than I have for years.

It's very strange, especially considering over the counter indigestion medications are some of the biggest sellers in the USA. In a nation of over indulgers (an estimated 66% of the population is overweight) dyspepsia seems to be one of the most common medical complaints.

But not for me. Not any longer. And long may it stay that way.

And just to test my stomach's sturdiness, we'll give it a run for it's money when the drinks flow next week, at the Huntington T.G.I. Fridays Bartender Olympics.

What to do when you're not drinking...

In order to trim down to my fighting weight (as seen here) I have given up drinking during the week and taken up press-ups. This has the added benefit of saving me beer money and the price of a gym membership. I'm still fat, though.

However, I have another problem now too. Without a beer to quaff after work, I am left with abundant energy. Therefore I have a freelance job, writing and editing for an English insurance company.

Insurance. This is about as exciting as this story gets.

However, it raises an interesting point. America, being the land of opportunity, has given me the opportunity to earn a little money (about the price of a six-pack of Samuel Adams Boston Lager) every night, in addition to my (grossly underpaid) day job.

Why didn't Britain have these neat little opportunities?

That's one of the things that I love about America. There are always the opportunities to earn a few extra dollars. In Britain, they tell you that hard work never killed anybody. Out here in New York, they're testing that theory.

Let the Dumb Stay - Kick the Smart Out!

Oh, American Immigration.

With a potential 12 million illegal immigrants - almost all unqualified manual workers and their families - about to get their chance at legitimate citizenship, the good people at the BCIS (Bureau for Cackhanded Immigration Silliness) have decided that this imbalance needs to be addressed. That's why they're cracking down on the 1 million highly qualified, highly capable 'brainiacs' trying to get their crack at the American dream.

It's all outlined here, in this yahoo article.

WASHINGTON (AFP) - The huge backlog in US immigration visas is leading to a "reverse brain-drain" that will force skilled workers to return to their home country, a report released Wednesday concludes.

That's right. Somebody at the BCIS (Bastion of Completely Incompetent Staff) has noticed that 31 percent of all new tech start ups in America (the ones that raise money, pay taxes and push the American economy forward) are started up at least in part by legitimate immigrants - and dammit, they're going to put a stop to it.

Why have successful businesses boost the economy and generate income for working Americans when we can instead lose tax revenue and put blue collar workers out of business by farming our work out to illegal immigrants?

It makes PERFECT SENSE!

At least it does to the BCIS (Bundled of Criminally Insane pSychopaths) who seem unable to understand that legitimate immigrants (the ones who fill in forms and shovel thousands of dollars into the BCIS) are the ones who pay their taxes and abide by the US laws.

It's madness, plain and simple. Ever since George Bush bundled together his 'Homeland Security' package to replace the relatively efficient INS (Immigration and Naturalisation Service) the immigration situation in America has gone steadily downhill.

I'll reiterate my experiences for the millionth time. I paid my fees. I filled in my paperwork. I did everything by the book - and we got screwed out of three years of our lives.

Crossing the Rio Grande seems like a smarter option.

Until something is done to reverse this crazy situation, money will be channeled OUT of America by illegal immigrants instead of channeled INTO America by the legitimate, hard working ones.

Selling Drugs

At the moment, I'm employed selling a drug called Oxytrol.

It's the Trans Dermal Patch for Over Active Bladder - basically it treats people with incontinence or 'urgency' (as in, a strong, powerful need to pee more regularly than other people.)

Now this is quite a cool drug. As part of the training I undertook to sell it, I learnt how it works and how it stacks up against the rival drugs on the market, Detrol being the best known.

Because Detrol is a pill, 90% of the effective drug (oxybutynin) gets metabolised through the liver and most of it gets turned into a less effective metabolite that doesn't just target the problem (the over active bladder signals) but switches off other receptors in the body too - giving the patient an unbearably dry mouth and often very bad constipation.

Oxytrol, on the other hand, delivers the oxybutynin directly through the patch, which means the liver doesn't get to metabolise the bulk of it before it hits the bloodstream. That means the side effects are much milder (only slightly more than a placebo.)

It's a brand name pharmaceutical drug that is legitimately better than it's rival. Unlike the pharmaceutical companies who are ripping us off (flogging repackaged generics, like paracetamol and ibuprofen, marketed as expensive Tylenol and Nurofen) Watson Pharmaceuticals actually give you a better product - you do indeed get what you paid for.

However, for many insurance companies and health care companies (including the NHS, back in England) the fact that this pharmaceutical drug is better than it's rival doesn't necessarily mean it'll get prescribed.

The NHS recently announced that they're 'going generic.' In order to save millions in prescription drugs charges, they'll prescribe only generic drugs. That means a patient with overactive bladder would get regular, oral oxybutynin tablets instead of Oxytrol because the trans dermal patch is still under licence and would cost the taxpayer more.

This isn't good for the patient. A significant percentage of those prescribed Detrol or generic oxybutynin abandon their course of drugs due to the dry mouth and constipation caused. It might save the tax payer or the insurance company money - but is it the best choice for the patient?

That's why the American health care system does have some advantages over the British one. Okay, it costs money. If you can't afford insurance, you simply don't have access to medical cover. But when you do, you go into a doctor's waiting room with an advantage. You're a consumer, not just a warm body on a cold table. When it comes to decisions about your health, you can make choices that an NHS patient sometimes can't.

If my brief time working in the health care industry has taught me anything, it's that.

I've always been very angry at pharmaceutical companies ripping off consumers with expensive brand packaged generic drugs. However, I now know that sometimes, brand name drugs can offer you what their generic cousins can't.

Private health care is driving advancement in the field of medication. That's something that stagnant monsters like the NHS simply don't do. Going private means you get the best health care your money can buy - if you're lucky enough to afford it. If you can't afford private health care, you're going to have to put up with the generic NHS prescriptions.

However, in the long term, the discoveries made in the name of private health care eventually do filter down through the system. Licences expire. Costs are driven down. While private health care still continues to drive the industry forward, old dinosaurs like the NHS are eventually going to reap the benefit by offering generic versions of drugs that were groundbreaking ten years ago.

I hate to get ripped off - but working in the pharmaceutical industry has helped me understand how private health care has an important part to play, whether you're lucky enough to have private medical insurance or not.

Sword Play

Okay, I'll admit it. I got bitten by the Renaissance bug BAD.

Ever since I came back, I've been inspired by the fun and enthusiasm of the "Rennies" - apparently the correct term for hard core Renaissance Faire attendees (is that like the term 'Trekkies?') We'll definitely be attending any other local events when they happen.

There'll be no surprise about the aspect of Renaissance Faires I liked the best.


Well, second best, after the bustiers. It was the sword fighting.

Attending a Renn Faire gives everybody the chance to carry around a sword. It's part of the outfit. It's part of the lifestyle. It's part of the over compensation in some people's cases.

But at a Faire, the only people who whip them out (the swords I mean) are the trained and trusted members of the Faire staff. Because even if your mighty blades are 'safety' blunted, you can still give somebody a near fatal crack on the skull with one (and the pointy bits are more than capable of making shish-kebab out of anybody.)

Sword fighting is kept very sensibly behind the safety curtains. You'll see it on stage. You'll see it in skits. What you won't see are regular Rennies slapping each other silly with three feet long lengths of steel. But that's what makes it so exciting.

As soon as I saw some of the Renn Faire players dueling to the death, I was inspired to learn the art of stage combat and do some swashbuckling myself. But what is involved in a project like that?

Well, there are actually more stringent rules in place about becoming a stage combateer than there are rules about gun ownership (in many states, at least.) To get up on stage and thrill the masses with your daring exploits, it's necessary to pass certification by the Society of American Fight Directors. Their examiners will test candidates and only on successfully proving your skills can you earn one of the coveted SAFD certificates which enables you to legitimately start slinging your steel about.

There are eight techniques in stage combat. Rapier and Dagger, Single Sword, Broadsword, Broadsword and Shield, Small Sword, Knife, Quarterstaff and Unarmed.

To pass certification in any of these weapons, you'll need to undergo thirty hours of training by an SAFD certified instructor. Then, by preparation of a brief staged combat, you'll be tested in each weapon by an instructor.

It's a pretty major commitment - but there are certainly opportunities for those who attain those certificates. Hollywood movies still seem to involve plenty of fight scenes!

You can find out about the SAFD here.

You can learn about SAFD training in New York here.

So once you're on the road to becoming a master swordsman, what about your weapon?

I've collected swords for years - I have several at home I picked up in junk and antique shops when I was living in Plymouth. Would those be suitable for staged combat?

The answer is 'maybe.' Vague, aren't I?

The truth is, not all swords are the same - especially not these days. It's possible to buy fake samurai swords for £20 down at the Blackbush market, but that doesn't mean they're any good.
Most decorative swords are made out of stainless steel. Some are even sharpened, so they look like deadly weapons. However, stainless steel simply isn't up to the rigors of stage combat. The first time a SS blade meets another, most likely they'll both shatter.

Stage combat swords are made out of high carbon steel, with much more flexibility in the steel than regular stainless. It's these swords that can handle the abuse and that explains why high carbon weapons are worth so much more than stainless display pieces.

Stage combat swords are easy to get. They're available by mail order from several online companies. One company, Stage Steel, even design swords especially for stage combat.

They do tend to be more expensive than stainless steel replicas, but that price is worth paying. Buy a display sword and start dueling with your buddy and at best, both your swords will shatter. At worse, they'll shatter and the shards will pierce something soft and fleshy.

Back in the City

This week has been something of an adventure - hence the lack of blog posts.

The most exciting thing that happened to me must have been my return to New York. In almost three months of being back in America, I've failed to visit New York City even once, which is shocking. But I had a job interview on Avenue of the Americas and I got to see the city that I fell in love with once again.

Like it's always done, New York blew me away with the sheer size and scale of the place. I was up around 53rd Street, between 5th and 6th Avenue. That's where the big business is done and the buildings suggest that, all being tall, no-nonsense geometric shapes. Gazing up at them made you dizzy.

It's a nice part of town. There's MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art. You can see The Rock, which is the local name for the Rockefeller Centre and the headquarters of NBC. If you've ever in the town, there's a view from the 'top of the Rock' that rivals the Empire State, so it's worth a visit. Plus there's the famous Radio City, which I got to see from ground level and from the 36th floor of one of the big tower blocks.

Around the back of 'The Rock' was something I hadn't seen since we left Winchester - a farmer's market! Most of the produce came from local states like Jersey and Pennsylvania.

It was fun and exciting to be back. It made me sad that I didn't make the effort to head to Manhattan earlier. But at least this time, I had a reason for going - and nothing marks you as a tourist more quickly than not storming down the New York sidewalks like you've got a purpose.

New York Renaissance Faire 2007

This weekend, we visited the amazing New York Renaissance Faire - an enormous exhibition celebrating the good 'olde' days.

Located in Sterling Forest, just outside Tuxedo in upstate New York, the whole event sounded like a lot of fun. In order to attend, however, it was necessary to dress the part. Nothing makes you stick out more than sneakers and a t-shirt!

For me, that meant another chance to wear the kilt (and I watched Highlander the night before to get in the mood.) Tina and our friends went for more fashionable attire. You can see below what this season's Well Dressed Wench is wearing...

The faire itself takes place in a custom built arena deep in the rolling oak forests of upstate New York. There's an entire village there, which the participants call "the shire." It comes complete with pubs, restaurants, shops and a jousting arena, plus handy street signs and road names (the 'privies' are located on Spend Penny Lane) to prevent anybody getting lost.

The first thing you notice about the faire is how enthusiastic the participants are. There is a permanent cast wandering about, featuring Queen Elizabeth I, Robin Hood and his Merry Men and various Squires, Serfs and wenches.

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However, the people attending the fair tend to be fully costumed and in character too. British accents abound (of varying degrees of quality) and some truly outstanding costumes make it difficult to tell the difference between the enthusiastic visitors and the people who work there.

The historical period in which the fair is set is very loose. Although the period is supposed to be vaguely Elizabethan (hence Her Majesty wandering about) you will see Vikings and Highlanders brushing shoulders with pirates and even Robin Hood and his Merry Men.

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The emphasis is on having fun and getting into character, rather than keeping everything historically accurate. As one person described it to me: This is medieval period how it was meant to be - with no bigotry, racism or open sewers.

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Bearing that in mind Tina and I went off to explore.

Annie met her heartthrob, the dashing Captain Jack Sparrow.

Tina decided to try her hand at a bit of archery.

I went hunting for the Loch Ness Monster!

Tina then got friendly with a local pirate. Very friendly!

A Viking and I discussed the dire state of the long boat industry.

Tina visited a local pub, where she was introduced to the way medieval people apparently drank mead. I'm not quite sure I entirely believed that one. The mead was delicious, though.

Throughout the day, events and theatre kept us entertained. One of the most dramatic shows was the jousting, which was thrilling stuff even if it came across as a bit choreographed (which is presumably the only way you can do it safely.)

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You could even buy pennants to support your favourite knight, with the proceeds going to the upkeep of the horses.

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Unfortunately, my favourite, named after the fictional Ulric Von Lichtenstein from the movie A Knight's Tale, fared very poorly.

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Two of the other riders were inexplicably named Francis 'Ducky' Drake and Sir Walter Raleigh, after two of England's greatest naval heroes (who presumably weren't great jousters.)

Although it wasn't on the same epic scale as the jousting, one of the highlights of the faire was a short play called The Perfect Scoundrels, which was performed enthusiastically by two actors with highly convincing British accents (even by my standards.)

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It appealed to me because it was very much in the mould of a British pantomime, right down to trainee thief Thomas actually turning out to be a girl disguised as a boy.

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There were cracking one liners aimed at the adult audience (at one point, Tom accuses his mentor of having 'fingers stickier than Lady Godiva's saddle.') There was audience participation for the kids (when one of the Scoundrels barks out: "If it's not nailed down?" the audience responds in chorus: "It's free!") Plus, most importantly, there was loads of thrilling sword fighting, beautifully choreographed and lots of fun to watch.

After enjoying the action for a while, Tina and I decided to be part of it ourselves again, so we continued to explore.

Tina tried out as a mature student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I asked the important question: Does this club make my bum look big?

I took time out to appreciate the Fair's plentiful supply of delicious beer - which normally results in where all four of us ended our day.

In the pillory!

I had enormous fun. Really, it was probably the best day I've had since coming back to America.

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Because everybody - guest, employee and vendor - got into the spirit of the faire, it made it a far more interesting experience than a sanitized Disney theme park or stale museum.

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Renaissance really seems to be a lifestyle, into which people immerse themselves entirely. Creating a medieval persona. Buying the costume. Learning the skills and perfecting the accent. It's a wonderful, liberating thing.

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Having encountered Asian knights and African American Highlanders at the faire, I realise now that Renaissance creates a micro society that seems to recognize no boundaries of age or race.

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You don't have to be who you are. You can be who you want to be. And the more you believe in the noble (or dastardly) persona you create, the more rewarding the whole thing is.

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Notes

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The New York Renaissance Faire continues every weekend and US Labor Day until the 23rd September. It's located in Sterling Forest, Tuxedo NY and is very easy to find. Admission is $20 and costumes can be rented for the occasion (because if you wear capris and a tank top you'll just look dumb.)

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The Perfect Scoundrels was written by Katherine Harte and Nathan DeCoux and performed by Nathan Decoux and Emily Rouch. Presumably they're not available for Weddings and Bar Mitzvahs, so don't ask. They carry swords.

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Out of the myriad traders at the faire, the ones that really grabbed our attention were:

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Knightly Endeavors - http://www.knightly.com/

Earthtone Instruments - http://www.earthtoneinstruments.com/

Black Prince Armory - http://www.blackprincearmory.net/

Sphere Play - http://www.tryouttoys.com/

Hollow Earth Swordworks - http://www.hollowearthswordworks.com/

Madd Hatter - http://www.maddhatterhats.com/

Medieval Metal - http://www.hairtwisters.com/

Foolonastick - http://www.jakes-toys.com/

Highland Secrets of Suzanne - http://www.highlandsecrets.com/

Cloud McCleod - http://www.rareearthflutes.com/

Heart's Delight - http://www.heartsdelightclothiers.com/

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There were many, many more (like the wonderful Crow's Nest, where we met the pirate Tina is dallying with above) but many didn't have websites.

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After all, this is the middle ages!