February 16, 2015 by phicks2012
So, my hobby is the SCA (The Society for Creative Anachronism), and I’ve been doing this since 1988. This is, admittedly, quite a while to do ANYthing, but I’ve continued to participate because — while I have to concede that I’ve met and interacted with a few less that stellar personalities over the years — I’ve met many really exceptional people in this organization and learned some wonderful skills. I’ve also continued because, under its umbrella, I’ve found arenas to express myself and to do things I already enjoyed doing — and which, as a child, I was assured by well-meaning people that I would never be able to make a living doing.
Over the course of time, though I orginally fancied myself as an “Arts & Sciences Type” I discovered to my amazement that other people saw me as a “Service Type”, and eventually my efforts in this area were recognized in the form of elevation to “The Order of the Pelican”.
Pelicans, in the SCA, are “Bestowed Peers”, and are expected to pass their knowledge on by taking “Proteges” to train, and I have a couple of these as well as some “Fosterlings”, but being a Pelican I find that I not only watch my own associates with an eye to assessing their progress, achievements, and behavior, but that I also tend to keep an eye on other associates (Proteges — Service Associates to Pelicans, Apprentices — Arts Associates to Laurels, and Squires — Fighting Associates to Knights) and also to unbelted prospects.
As a result, while I’ve seen some very hard-working, talented, and chivalrous examples I’ve also seen a few who, while belted to Peers of various flavors, really disappointed me, and one of my methods of expressing disappointment is via poetry.
Limericks are just SO handy for that purpose, and today I figured I’d share a few (written over time and mostly for my comic strips), just for fun — and no names being called. I hope a few of you can draw parallels, and find some enjoyment in them.
There once was a protege known
For tooting no horn but her own.
But mostly just drifted,
Her hand never lifted,
Her favorite position was prone.
A lovely apprentice from west
Of the Barony entered her best
In the Arts competition.
But I’d like to mention
She’d made part, and purchased the rest.
A squire for knighthood declined
Had armor expensive and fine
The field he could master,
And beer even faster,
But chivalry could not define.
A protege well-known to pass
On service would sit on her ass,
To watch her lord fighting
Her duties all slighting.
She really had nothing but mass.