Ye Old Nasty

This year, The Florida Renaissance Festival runs through March 11th at Quiet Waters Park (401 S. Powerlines Rd., Deerfield – check out www.ren-fest.com for directions), and there are many good reasons to go. So many, in fact, that naming them here would be impossible. What we can and will do is describe the four kinds of people who absolutely cannot afford to miss it.

1. The Neal Peartian. This guy goes to the Ren Faire because he loves it, blindly and purely. To him, nothing is cooler than time-warping to the days when jousters jousted, jesters jested, and, you know, fairies with beautiful jiggling jugs threw pixie dust in your eye. These people identify as Wiccans, and they adore Rush, Michael Flatley, and if they’re really hip, maybe James Galway. If they are male, they have beards; if they are female, they have corsets and have taken a belly-dancing lesson. Favorite beer: Guinness. But they’ll take mead if you’ve got it. Sometimes, they make it themselves.

2. The Ironic Reveler. This reveler — who, in others contexts, is known as The Anemic Hipster — thinks he goes to the Ren Faire to laugh at the preceding group. But that’s a lie. In reality, he wishes he had a kickass beard. Favorite beer: Guinness, but ironically.

3. The Alcoholic Theater Aficionado. This guy has a beergut and three kids. He likes to laugh and get drunk. You occasionally spy him at Disney World, but he prefers the Renaissance Festival: at Disney, there is little drinking, the jugglers don’t make blue jokes, and there is nowhere near as much gypsy-looking jailbait in bodices. The Afficionado loves that stuff. Although he begins the day casting admiring glances at the bulging boobies, at the end he’s hanging on for dear life. Favorite beer: Beer.

4. The Mean Sonofabitch. The true Rennie knows that, fun as booze and boobs and pageantry can be, the real reason to go to the Ren Faire is Christophe the Insulter. Sort of a 16th Century take on Jeffrey Ross, Christophe is to Ross as Shakespeare is to Stephen King. He can ruin your life and make you like it — and he’ll insult your family for cash. Every year, hundreds of true Rennies don their tights just to see this guy put the hurt on people. I am one of them.
Saturdays, Sundays. Starts: Feb. 9. Continues through March 9, 2008