April 27, 2011

It seems kind of crazy, but the climate in Austin is perfect for jousting … well, culturally at least. Meteorologically it’s ass. Yes, you can probably tolerate straddling a horse in a metal exoskeleton November through March, but the rest of the year, the heat is more likely to take you off your high horse than a wicked lance to your breastplate. Friday and Saturday the temperature will be in the low 90s, which should test the mettle/metal of any would-be Lancelots as well of the potency of their respective deodorants. There is a reason the Spanish explorer Cabeza de Vaca wandered around Texas buck nekkid – well, at least by 16th century standards. Back then, a varmint pelt over your kibbles and bits wasn’t considered actual clothing – even though these days if you wear a slingshot on the beach in Majorca you might as well be swaddled in a full-length fur coat. Yes, it is commonly thought that ol’ Cow Head sacrificed his clothing to shore up holes in his boat when it wrecked on Galveston Island, but the more likely explanation is that it was insanely hot and he would have sacrificed them for nearly anything: dried fish, dream catcher, peace pipe, or a bad hand of poker. Lesson: It’s too goddamned hot in Texas to be horsing around in a suit of armor – or a suit of any kind for that matter. Of course, that would never deter a hardcore creative anachronist. For those cats, just strolling around the Ren-Faire munching on a turkeye leg and rapping to the laydies in a meticulously rehearsed patois of Aulde Englishe/Old Testament is not enough. They want to get medieval on your ass. No, not like Marsellus Wallace in Pulp Fiction but really, truly medieval … or at least the most historically accurate re-enactment their budgets will allow. For people in economically depressed states like Michigan and Pennsylvania that means building their own smelters, blacksmith shops, or tanneries, and spending long hours meticulously re-creating the clothing and implements of a bygone era. Nerds in Austin just buy their shit online and have it FedEx’d to their cubicles so they don’t have to overtly brag to their office mates about their tough-guy weekend LARPing activities. It takes a monumental amount of game to engage the hot young receptionist at your office in a conversation about the length of your lance or the width of your broadsword – especially when you’re not talking about your Johnson. Of course, if you’re an insanely wealthy game developer like Richard Garriott, you hardly need any game at all. Garriott has enough money to prattle on endlessly to hot chicks about subjects that would earn most people a toilet-bowl swirly or at least a merciless noogie. That doesn’t necessarily mean space flight and pre-17th century European history aren’t fascinating; it just means that they’re more fascinating and when a mutlimillionaire has the floor. Imagine having a lunch meeting with Warren Buffett at which he enthusiastically discloses a penchant for gerbiling. Would you recoil in horror or try to keep an open mind? After all, Warren Buffett probably has the money to really do gerbiling “right.” The bottom line is that Garriott is in the happy position to engage wholeheartedly in all his nerdly passions, which is why he is hosting the first-ever Lysts on the Lake, a three-day exhibition of competitive jousting at the “Village of Castleton,” a fantasy village on the shores of Lake Austin composed of a cluster of quaintly accessorized affordable portables along with a fort, a miniature lighthouse, and (spoiler alert) a pirate ship. Yes, the location alone sells itself, but consider the prospect of nerds going after one another with big wooden sticks wearing sweaty suits of armor. Really, how can you not go?