Keith and I realized when we met for the first time at the faire that we'd actually seen each other there before.

But, of course, having talked online for months it was interesting to meet each other in real life. I knew Keith as "whitedragon" but apparently he's gone by many other names at the festival, and one of those might be the one you know him by. Now, I ask everybody for two paragraphs when I do this part, but Keith is verbose, so let me be quiet and let him tell you his story:

Ten years ago, friends of mine talked me into visiting 'fest (they had been there the year before and thought I would enjoy it) and not knowing what to expect...I went. Little did I know of the consequences of my actions; I was hooked within the first 15 minutes of walking into the gate. I'd always loved the Renaissance and I'd felt like I stepped back into that time. I only attended about twice that year but vowed I'd return.

The following year saw many new faces popping up -- I recognized many of the same people who I'd later come to call friends, and who to this day I miss off season. My first attempt at garb was hilarious. A pair of white jogging pants beneath a black pair with slits up both legs (both were cut off and tied at the knees) over top of a pair of tights; black suede boots from Payless that cut off ALL circulation to my feet and a white shirt that was bought about 5 sizes too big. Gods -- I look back at photos and laugh.

The next year saw a shirt bought at the Purple Dragon which replaced the one I owned, a somewhat better pair of boot, and a black bag hat. I did meet an interesting salesman that year who has later played a major part in my tale. His name is Steve and he runs the Dragon and Unicorn Mug Shop with his lovely...assistant, Rosanna. I was intrigued by the thought of acquiring a leather mug but the price at the time was rather high for my budget -- still, Steve "talked" me into buying one with a little help from Rosanna. I was publicly whipped until I agreed. That mug is still with us.

The following year, the first year I actually bought a season pass, I talked to a new friend (or rather, he had the bars cut me off) and we became a duo. His name? Tiger. We watched each others backs for jealous boyfriends in search of the lovely young lassies with whom we would flirt. He introduced me to many new people and saw me to my first afterhours party. Losing the accent proved difficult until I came across a performer, Bliss Goodbody, who told me that "the beer is in the back of the pickup truck."

The season following saw a third added to our group. My best friend for years, Darrin, finally agreed to attend although once he saw my attempts at garb, he roared in laughter and vowed he'd never dress the part. Two weeks later saw him with a new doublet, tights, gauntlets, boots and a cavalier hat. The three of us became the town flirts: Cassanova, Romeo & Lancelot aka the "Foofah Boys." (thanks a mil, Steve!)

Garb got better the next year as I learned the principles of it, and with it, I found a new persona emerge: I was thinking more and more like Cassanova and struggled with garb through the off-season. The pants were ditched in favor of real ones, the boots replaced and a kilt added to the arsenal. We met more friends and attended events together (usually in a somewhat drunken stupor!)

Check out Keith's Web page, too.