senoritafish: (Al runs)
[personal profile] senoritafish
John happened to be looking at this journal the other day and complained that I had not written anything about our anniversary. To tell the truth, I haven't written much of anything about anything lately, being alternately busy, lazy, tired, or uninspired, so I guess I'll take the time to try and play catch-up. The disclaimer on my user page applies.* ;p

May 20 was our eleventh anniversary. John told me a month or so ahead of time that he and his friend Jerry had already bought tickets to the Medieval Times dinner show for our anniversary and Jerry's wife Dale's birthday; he told me ahead of time but it would be a surprise for Dale. I'd never been there, so I thought that was fine.

He likes to make a big deal of our anniversary, and gives me too many presents. Now, I've forgotten exactly when, probably because I might have been half asleep at the time, either after midnight the night before, or when I just woke up that day (because he just can't wait), he gave me a necklace with three tiny stylized dolphins on it - one silver, one copper, one gold - very pretty. I've been wearing it ever since. Then, before we left for the show, an small opal ring - hearts aren't usually my speed, but the stone has a lot of fire and is beautiful. I'm not a big one for fancy jewelry, but the magpie/dragonish side of me is quite fond of hydrated quartz. However, it only fits my pinkie, so we'll need to get it resized. Even then, I'm not sure how often I'll wear it - opals break easily and I am always knocking my hands into things.

On the appointed evening, we got ready and headed up to Buena Park, just north of Knott's Berry Farm. The parking lot was already overflowing and we must have circled for 15 minutes looking for a place to park. I was worried because Jerry has been known to just cancel if someone is late. Apparently, they were searching for parking too, in the overflow lot across the street (the old defunct Movieland Wax Museum is now their overflow parking). Dale was at the entrance, so I waited with her while John went across the street to search for Jerry. Tons of people milling around, so we stood at the curb where we could be easily seen when they got back.

Got inside and had an obligatory picture taken with the cast member who played the princess - although we never saw it again so I don't know what became of it - nobody wanted to buy it, I guess. Then we had an overpriced drink at the one of the bars while waiting to be seated. They make everyone wear stupid paper crowns - color-coded so they know what part of the stadium to herd you to. There are little souvenir counters scattered along the inside walls, some selling toys, crowns, souvenir mugs, decorative swords and knives - John checked these out after the show, and snorted in disgust that they are the kind that are meant to hang on the wall and look pretty, never to be used.

Eventually the doors opened, and an older man (dressed as the king's major-domo, I suppose) began announcing crown colors, so each large group of people crowded to the doors to make their way to their seats, arranged around in tiers around a sand-covered arena. I passed a falconer near the door so close I could have petted the bird on his fist as we entered; I noticed the bird's lower beak looked awfully overgrown - it jutted to the side past the upper beak. Wait staff began serving food as the show started; it was kind of funny to see guy in costume making his way down the row in front of us, ladling soup from a hardware store bucket. John looked around for a spoon, but was reminded that to make the experience seem "authentic," they don't give you any utensils; you have to drink your soup from the bowl and eat everything else with your hands. At least they don't serve mashed potatoes. ;p

I have a few pictures, but most of them were blurry. I am really coveting a camera where I can push the film speed a bit more.

The show starts with the arena filling with mist, with lots of colored lights playing on it. Looks rather cool because it's below the level of the seating.















Then a bunch of people come in through the fog with torches - the knights are returning from a great battle where dire treachery was defeated...










The assembled knights proceed out...














Some dressage...(John said the horse looked tired - he was drooling a lot)...














The show was a little more scripted than what you'd see at a Renaissance Faire, with sort of a hokey plot about discovering a traitor among the king's knights by having a "tournament to the death," plotted, of course, by the real traitor in the king's staff.



The real traitor is discovered...














Some catching rings on poles, jousting and sword-fighting, the falcon flying in circles over the audience, and a wizard who appeared in puffs of smoke and made ominous pronouncements, and a lot of dry ice mist with colored lights. The colors on the paper crown you were given matched the colors of the knight you were supposed to cheer for, which Jerry, who had a few beers in him, was doing enthusiastically. I found it fun to watch, but my suspension of disbelief wasn't working too well that evening, I guess; I clapped and waved my little ribbon on a stick at the appropriate moments, but felt a little dumb at cheering for an assigned fellow on a horse when the outcome was all too obvious.

I gave him his present during dinner - I didn't have the actual items in hand, so I folded up the webpage description and wrapped it for him. He has been complaining since we got married that he used to go to the Long Beach Blues Festival (sponsored by the local pubic radio Jazz&Blues station) every year without fail. And it's not that I never wanted to go, it's just something always came up that particular weekend. I had been listening to the radio station during a pledge drive, and decided he'd go this year without fail, so I got him the family pack of tickets. I'm not sure whether we should try to take the kids, though - I don't think they could handle just listening to music for that long and although his mom is close by, there are no in-out privileges - once you leave, you can't come back. At least you're allowed to bring food and sealed drinks along; most music festivals don't even allow water (which is probably the main reason I don't go to them - there have been some acts I'd have love to have seen at Coachella but when it's out in the frickin' desert and then they sell water bottles for $6 a pop, well, forget it. I'm too old for that.) We'll see when the time comes.

Leaving was sort of reminiscent of leaving Disneyland at closing time; a press of people heading to the doors and then the exit, long lines at the restrooms and trying to remember what aisle we parked in. I was handed another box in the car on the way home - but I think that was more a gift for John himself than me. ;) Heh, he's never gotten me that before...

March 2016

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