One for me and Tuxedo, one for the Club
This weekend, two of the three social groups in which I've spent most of the last 5-10 years were part of the story.
Saturday morning I took the Shortline bus from the Port Authority to faire. Fortunately, it went straight to the site, saving me a 2+ mile walk in 90-degree heat. Unfortunately, it didn't leave until 10, which meant more time in the Port Authority Bust Terminal than I would have liked. Most unfortunately, there was this guy. Wouldn't shut up. Wouldn't get out of character. Yes, this character. Decided he was famous, and we all should know about how Triumph the Insult Comic Dog insulted him on Conan. I'm not surprised. Finally turned on my iPod to get away from him, and, when I mentioned to another person there that I was listening to the pyrates_royale, he interrupted and decided to impress me by telling me that he'd met them once. Mm-hmm.
But as I said, the bus got there pretty quickly, and I got inside quickly (where khitata restored my sanity with a hug and a cider). Then off to the Foundry to leave my gear and distract wench18 and crew. Fortunately, it wasn't too busy just then...unfortunately, it stayed not too busy all day. But after a while I wandered off, and caught a few shows: Three Pints Shy (which I can't see without thinking "GBS cover band," although all of the songs they do sing, of course, precede Great Big Sea). Then the Crimson Pirates. Then off ot Lady Gaea's to visit celtink and the crew there. Despite planning to have a "show day," since I wasn't giving anyone tours, I spent most of the day hanging out in or near booths, and hopefully not getting in the way. It wouldn't have worked on a busier day, so if it were busier I probably would have seen more shows and been in the way less, but at least none of my friends work in the candle booth (where they can't chat no matter how dead it is).
One bit of Faire-related bad news. My Merc pin broke (at the obvious breaking point). It's only a year old now, and I'm not buying a replacement from Lundegaard. I'll go back there when Brennan is around to see if he can fix it--Madmage had no luck (but on the plus side, sold me a bottle of his mead that I tried last week).
So, short version: Faire good. And next year I make Libertine.
But I got home and checked my e-mail, and it was here that the second of my social groups comes in. Campüs Club is not re-opening this fall. There are a whole lot of reasons why I'm not happy about this, not least of which is that I was there for the beginning of the fall. And while my class did everything it could to keep it going, we were preceded by a class that disliked a good third of the members (unfairly, as those members generally liked them), and followed by a class that, while filled with good people, was too small at exactly the wrong time.
It wasn't Campüs--I'm convinced of that. All sign-in clubs have years with low turnouts, and it was probably our turn. And, as Jim put it, 'Some would have said that Campus was "Terrace Lite."
But as the student body moved socially to the right, Terrace kind of became "Terrace Lite" and Campus became "Terrace Empty."' He's right. By the time we graduated, you couldn't find an orgy at Terrace if you tried (some would say the stories of Terrace orgies were always apocryphal, made up by frustrated members of Tower and Cloister, but they were, if not true, at least plausible when I was a freshman). So Campus, once a haven for Terrace spill-over, among other things, was no longer that natural outlet.
But really, in any other year, we would have been fine--we might have lost our character, or been taken over, but we were in prime location, and somebody would have joined. Except that that was the year the Frist family hit campus. The Frist Campus Center drew off the 20-30% of would-be Campüs members who were just there for meals (hi kierajeng), and more to the point, reduced the "eating club" crowd generally by about 10%. Well, there were 11 clubs. And full clubs draw better than empty ones. And we happened to be the empty. It would not have happened otherwise. Colonial survived a much worse year in 1999. But there you have it.
One for the club. And next year is my fifth Reunion.
Saturday morning I took the Shortline bus from the Port Authority to faire. Fortunately, it went straight to the site, saving me a 2+ mile walk in 90-degree heat. Unfortunately, it didn't leave until 10, which meant more time in the Port Authority Bust Terminal than I would have liked. Most unfortunately, there was this guy. Wouldn't shut up. Wouldn't get out of character. Yes, this character. Decided he was famous, and we all should know about how Triumph the Insult Comic Dog insulted him on Conan. I'm not surprised. Finally turned on my iPod to get away from him, and, when I mentioned to another person there that I was listening to the pyrates_royale, he interrupted and decided to impress me by telling me that he'd met them once. Mm-hmm.
But as I said, the bus got there pretty quickly, and I got inside quickly (where khitata restored my sanity with a hug and a cider). Then off to the Foundry to leave my gear and distract wench18 and crew. Fortunately, it wasn't too busy just then...unfortunately, it stayed not too busy all day. But after a while I wandered off, and caught a few shows: Three Pints Shy (which I can't see without thinking "GBS cover band," although all of the songs they do sing, of course, precede Great Big Sea). Then the Crimson Pirates. Then off ot Lady Gaea's to visit celtink and the crew there. Despite planning to have a "show day," since I wasn't giving anyone tours, I spent most of the day hanging out in or near booths, and hopefully not getting in the way. It wouldn't have worked on a busier day, so if it were busier I probably would have seen more shows and been in the way less, but at least none of my friends work in the candle booth (where they can't chat no matter how dead it is).
One bit of Faire-related bad news. My Merc pin broke (at the obvious breaking point). It's only a year old now, and I'm not buying a replacement from Lundegaard. I'll go back there when Brennan is around to see if he can fix it--Madmage had no luck (but on the plus side, sold me a bottle of his mead that I tried last week).
So, short version: Faire good. And next year I make Libertine.
But I got home and checked my e-mail, and it was here that the second of my social groups comes in. Campüs Club is not re-opening this fall. There are a whole lot of reasons why I'm not happy about this, not least of which is that I was there for the beginning of the fall. And while my class did everything it could to keep it going, we were preceded by a class that disliked a good third of the members (unfairly, as those members generally liked them), and followed by a class that, while filled with good people, was too small at exactly the wrong time.
It wasn't Campüs--I'm convinced of that. All sign-in clubs have years with low turnouts, and it was probably our turn. And, as Jim put it, 'Some would have said that Campus was "Terrace Lite."
But as the student body moved socially to the right, Terrace kind of became "Terrace Lite" and Campus became "Terrace Empty."' He's right. By the time we graduated, you couldn't find an orgy at Terrace if you tried (some would say the stories of Terrace orgies were always apocryphal, made up by frustrated members of Tower and Cloister, but they were, if not true, at least plausible when I was a freshman). So Campus, once a haven for Terrace spill-over, among other things, was no longer that natural outlet.
But really, in any other year, we would have been fine--we might have lost our character, or been taken over, but we were in prime location, and somebody would have joined. Except that that was the year the Frist family hit campus. The Frist Campus Center drew off the 20-30% of would-be Campüs members who were just there for meals (hi kierajeng), and more to the point, reduced the "eating club" crowd generally by about 10%. Well, there were 11 clubs. And full clubs draw better than empty ones. And we happened to be the empty. It would not have happened otherwise. Colonial survived a much worse year in 1999. But there you have it.
One for the club. And next year is my fifth Reunion.