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April 13, 2003

Sunblock, "Riverworld," and Fairely expensive boots...

I spent a goodly portion of Saturday and today at the Koroneburg European Renaissance Festival, performing "The Olde Testament Condensed" with Marlowe’s Shadowe. Speaking of which, we’ll be debuting "The True Adventures of Marco Polo" next Saturday, but that’s neither here nor there.

Seeing as how I’ll be there for six of the next seven weekends, and as how my feet are schlepping around no dainty cargo, I decided to bite the bullet and purchase some good Faire boots. They didn’t actually set me back any, since they were a belated birthday gift from my mother; there wasn’t anything I was really hankering for when my birthday rolled around last month, so she gave me an open-ended rain-check on my gift. Still, spending money—anybody’s money—on clothing is foreign enough to me to make it difficult. I could festoon the world with 50-cent neckties and loud, pre-owned button-down shirts for what I shelled out for the boots. I have no reason to complain, though. The boots were a gift, and my girlfriend saved me some cash by making my hat and doublet out of fabric we picked up a few weeks back. Not only are they original, but they have sentimental value.

Also, as long as I have the luxury to stop conversational traffic in my journal and pay homage to whatever tickles my fancy, let me just take a moment to sing the praises of Banana Boat Baby Magic Sunblock, SPF 50. Yeah, it comes in a pink bottle. Yeah, with an SPF of 50, it’s intended for newborn albino vampires. The fact still remains that, some 15 hours of exposure later, there’s not a burn to be found. By comparison, if I had gone that 15 hours without any sort of sunblock, I’d now be the consistency of jerk chicken.

In other news, I’m two books into Philip José Farmer’s "Riverworld" series and loving it. The basic premise is that every person who ever lived and died on Earth has been resurrected, naked and young, along the banks of a massive river on a non-Earth planet. Only compounding the confusion is the fact that the newly resurrected keep resurrecting every time they die. Not only does this series tweak my interest in the same way as did the Duncan Idaho gholas from "Dune" and the protagonist of Black Isle’s "Torment" (which, if it didn’t, at least should have started life as a novel), but it allows the writer the very enviable ability of conscripting some of history’s most interesting people to serve as characters.

Let me end this by mentioning that while I might paint my seniors with a pretty broad brush, don’t mistake "broad" with "all-encompassing". Some of them are giving 100 Years of Solitude a fair shake and doing the reading, having actually purchased the required book as requested. Of course, I say this on the eve of the truncated week leading into Spring Break. The situation might merit reviewing in four days, when we’re all chattering back and forth at each other via a simple system of hoots and clicks and lining our nests with pages from the now-expendable World Literature textbook.

Posted by patrick at April 13, 2003 09:04 PM

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