Fezziwig's Warehouse
The Happiest Party in London, c. 1850
| Wooly Rambles: Opening weekend |
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There was too much that happened last weekend to actually do a blow by blow. I've been thinking about it on and off all week and came to the conclusion I'm not even sure I could recall all of it even if I want to. If you're looking for the quick highlights rather than the ramble I've got a few things for you. Like I said in notes, let the word "newbies" be stricken from your vocabularies until late next year. Anyone who got through last weekend is a Fezzi. On opening day we were handling crowds like what we saw second weekend last year, and doing it without any major snafu's. I was, and am, impressed. We are, much to every returning Fezzi's shock, getting too many people coming forward to announce dances. Four people announcing is really the sweet spot as long as there is a mix of male and female voices. More than that and it is progressively easier to get the timing of the voices off and it just becomes a loud muddle. As one Fezzi put it to me, those of us who are in the habit of going forward for every call because no one else is going to be there need to actually look and see if we're needed. It's a great and grand problem to have, on the whole. The normal stuff applies. If you are sick, please stay home. When at fair do the warm-ups you need to take care of your body, pay attention, and keep being wonderful without getting too cocky about it. From here on I'm going to be rambling. Stick around if you'd like to wander through my brain for a bit. There are some general things that I've got on my mind, and then I'd like to share my Fezzi experience for the weekend, a couple of things that I never thought I'd see, and maybe a thought I had on Tuesday. We'll see if I'm brave enough. The word for opening day is always scattered. No matter how ready things looked the day before Thanksgiving, they aren't. This time it was mostly small things that I was seeing, but I was about thirty minutes later than I would have liked to be so I might have missed the real excitement. Warm-ups, notes, fixing things, trying to find character... all of the normal stuff for a first day. Then I was off first shift, which always throws me for a tail spin. As luck had it I was able to spend the time happily wandering around with Mr Scrooge hunting for a cravat pin. I probably walked in to more shops in that hour than I normally do in the run of fair. There were several points during the day where I exchanged looks of various levels of amazement with various returning Fezzi's and said some version of "Is this really opening?" I think that those of you who've been there before know what I mean. All joking aside, it was busier than we had seen before for an opening. There were lots of chances for things to go awry, and some did, but nothing that couldn't be fixed on the fly. Saturday... that was the day I saw something I never would have expected while hunting up lunch in the late afternoon. I was down by the fish stall having just picked up my meze plate, and I turned around and saw Elvis. I blinked but he was still there. Certainly he was just an impersonator, but I'm going to be smiling for years about having seen Elvis in London. It was also the day of my Fezzi experience. Since I'm not sure that anyone else uses the phrase to mean the same thing I do let me give you my definition. For me a Fezzi experience is one of those times where you have managed to make someone's day, week, or sometimes year by bringing them in to our reality. Sometimes it's a first dance, another it might be that you've reminded them of other wonderful times, but you just know in your heart that you've managed to give someone a wonderful gift. Even if you have no real idea who they are. Once of the downsides of being a shift lead for me is that I get a lot fewer Fezzi experiences than I used to; maybe one or two for the season rather than a half dozen. So Mr Babcock asked me if I was available for a dance. He was walking wounded, but he was still matching up guests with dancers and had spotted someone. A young woman was on the bleachers with her family. She was willing to be coaxed on to the floor, and we were shortly dancing around the middle of the floor. She had that "OMG, I'm dancing" look on her face most of the time. She stayed out to dance La Bastrange, and then Professor Wigsby walked her back. When I went over to give my regards afterwards she was glowing with happiness, and talking about how wonderful both the fair and Fezziwig's was. Mr Soak was all ready to get her back to the dance floor, but she wanted to catch her breath. With Miss Elliot's help the young lady's papa did get out to dance though. Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. That was the day that the BAC in Time Carolers and the Morris dancers cancelled. We'd weathered the very short set from the carolers the day before, and I was pretty happy not to have to hear them again so that announcement in morning notes didn't phase me at all. The surprise of suddenly hearing silence from the floor during what was supposed to be the caroling set and finding that they'd left after only fifteen minutes of material... yeah. I didn't need to repeat that. But when I got word at about 2:15 when I was finishing eating in the breezeway that the Morris dancers had cancelled too... that was exciting. Got back, watched the last few minutes of the extended Stagecoach of Doom, had some water, and then we pulled a caroling set out of our collective back pocket. When we're out recruiting over the course of the year we're looking for friendly dancers who might be able to act, or friendly actors who might be able to dance. So when I see good dancing on the floor I'm really not that surprised. What I was seeing this weekend was something else. I saw people who would bring joy to their guests, and to each other, no matter what hurdles were placed in their way. Mrs Summerson said it at notes Sunday night, but I'm gonna say it again. Y'all were amazing. Last weekend was a wonderful, if exhausting, experience for me. Let's do it again, eh? I've gone on more than long enough. Thanks for sticking around if you did, and I look forward to seeing those of you who are playing with us this weekend. As ever, Your devoted servant, Mr Bagnet
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