decadence (SCA)

The group I camp with at Pennsic, Polyhymnia, has had a decadent streak for as long as we've been together. Long ago, we had a camp site with elecricity available -- so we brought a small fridge up to maintain the supply of chocolate milk. (Ok, the main purpose was to keep the meat at an appropriate temperature, but the chocolate milk didn't hurt.) We haven't had electricity for years, but several years ago we built our own shower (solar bags), and last year we added a hot-water heater and plumbing to maintain good pressure while hooked up to the water supply. (We also added a kitchen sink, because washing dishes in smaller basins and then carrying the water to a sump pit is a pain.) Two years ago was the debut of my "little house on the flatbed". Most of our group camps in period-style accommodations (house, pavillions, Viking tents, etc), not in nylon. We tend to sleep on beds (slat or rope), not the ground. We have a decent kitchen setup. We enjoy ourselves. And every year we try to make it a little better.

This year, we decided to replace the modern sun shade that we use for our cooking area with something more suitable in appearance. So we're building a small, collapsable Tudor-style house. Well, a facade -- two full and two partial walls and a canvas roof. There are windows in the upper walls for ventillation and visibility, but they're high enough to hide the tables with the propane stoves so those won't be visible from the road. It will sit adjacent to the "kitchen tent" (really a pantry).

I spent the afternoon at Johan's house helping to construct this. (I was with the group sewing the canvas, not the group building the walls.) It's not done yet, but the walls are pretty much done and the canvas is all sewn. The walls look really spiffy. This will make a fine addition to our campsite.

I remember the days when I camped in one of those nylon dome tents. At the time I thought they were wonderful; now, I could never go back.

Yes, I know that our current practice is not a defintion of "camping" that is generally understood, but darn it, Pennsic is the big annual vacation for most of us. I hate "camping", but I want to enjoy Pennsic

social dynamics

Tonight Dani and I went to a party that was being held by some friends of mine from my congregation. It ended up being awkward. I'm really not very good at these kinds of parties, I guess.

It was a nice affair with catered food (very tasty, and I knew I could trust the kashrut for once) and a band. There were probably 75 people there, maybe more. (They have a large house and a huge yard, and most of the party was outside.) The hosts did a great job of setting things up.

But I'm not very good at "mingling"; I don't have a good handle on the dynamic of when to continue talking with someone, when to wander off because you're supposed to mingle, how to react to the comings and goings of other people in a conversational group, and so on. When the food was served I thought this would get easier, as there were tables to sit at and you'd naturally find yourself talking with the other people at your table -- except that the music, while not "loud" objectively, was just loud enough that I found this nearly impossible. I also felt guilty because Dani doesn't know many of the people who were there -- though I wasn't faring that much better, as many of the people were professional associates and I didn't know them either.

We ended up ducking out a little earlier than we had planned on (and probably earlier than we were "supposed" to), but I didn't really know what else to do. It's nobody's fault; it's just frustrating.

(I felt pretty much the same way at the big shindig that Dani's father and his wife held for their 25th anniversary last fall -- except that the music was much louder and we didn't have the option to duck out early. The situation was reversed in one way: Dani knew many (but not most) of the people there, and I knew very few.)

I've been trying to figure out what makes a large social occasion work for me and what makes it not work. I've certainly been to larger parties that have been great; a unifying theme is that I knew a larger proportion of the people at those parties. But I don't think it's just shyness around people I don't know, because I've met and gotten to know new people at these kinds of gatherings. Maybe there's a critical percentage -- no more than X% (or N people?) can be unknown to me. I wish I knew.