From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.com (Jane Beckman x4030) Date: 14 Jun 90 23:17:14 GMT 1. Blood for Odin: SCA member is stalked by muggers. Gets to his car and opens trunk just as the muggers put a switchblade to his ribs. He picks up his gigantic double-blade ax, screams "Blood for Odin" and the muggers break the minute mile out of there. 2. The Convenience Store Holdup: SCA member works at convenience store. He goes to fighter practice after work, so he always wears his chain mail under his clothes. Guy comes in and asks for cigarettes. He turns to get them, feels something in his back, and the guy demands the register money. He picks up blunt weapon (sometimes a rattan sword) from under counter, turns and clocks the guy, knocking him cold. A patron is helping him pull a knife out of his chainmail as the cops arrive. 3. The Biker Rumble: Members of a motorcycle gang decide to crash an SCA tourney, kick some ass, and generally wipe up the ground with those people in funny clothes. King sees them coming, yells "For steel!" and every person there pulls a weapon and heads for the bikers, who exit quickly when confronted by this heavily-armed army. 4. "THIS is a knife!": In an incident exactly like the one in Crocodile Dundee, a mugger confronts an SCA type who whips out a huge knife or broadsword, drops into a fighting stance, and says "That's not a knife: THIS is a knife!" He usually takes the mugger's switchblade home as a trophy. Everyone always knows EXACTLY who this happened to, and names names. If you ask the person, they say "That wasn't me, but I can tell you who it *really* was." This goes through several people, and eventually, you come back to the first party. Locations and various details change. I've read versions in magazines, tabloids, and newspapers, too. From: bethmo@microsoft.UUCP (Beth MOURSUND) Date: 17 Jun 90 00:51:35 GMT You left out one of the most common ones I've heard, "The Barbarian in the Restaurant." This one is generally told about the most prominant local barbarian. (Someone may actually have done it, but since it's told about lots of different people it's still a legend.) Anyway, and some friends were on the way home from a war and decided to stop and have dinner at a restaurant. The waitress comes to their table and doesn't quite know what to make of these strangly dressed folk. She gathers her courage and asks "what would you like?" , in his best barbarian growl, answers "Meat!" The waitress asks timidly, "Uh, what kind of meat, sir?" reaches into his pouch, pulls out a coin, flips it, looks at it, and answers "Cooked!" There's another story that I heard told that I'm fairly sure is an urban legend, but I suppose it's not 100% impossible. The story was that a group of SCAdians consisting of one man and several ladies were coming home from a revel on the subway when they were accosted by a gang of, shall we say, socially disadvantaged youths. The man supposedly held off the gang long enough for the ladies to escape, and was pretty well cut up in the process. He was knighted by the king of the East while he was still in the hospital. Oh, and here's one that I was told happened in Atenveldt: There was an SCA demo going on at some campus and someone heard a woman screaming. They saw two (mundane) guys dragging a (mundane) woman into a car. The two SCAdians who saw this were carrying live steel halberds, and they got in front of the car and set their polearms in the "prepare to repel horse" position. Supposedly one polearm went through the windshield and the other went through the engine block. From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Date: 18 Jun 90 17:13:06 GMT Mention was made of an SCA legend as follows: It sounds like it could have spun off an incident at Chico State years and years ago, where some mundanes in pick-em-up trucks tried to kidnap an SCA woman for a little fun and games. (Wenches, you know.) It turned into a wild car chase. I've never been sure if it was a legend or something that really happened. I do know the SCA hasn't done demos at Chico State, ever since. And, for those of you who want a REAL biker incident, I have the classic. This really happened. I was in charge of site security that night. Along about midnight, this pickup truck pulls up, and my friend who is checking people in gives standard site warnings, collects fees, and says casually, "Who are you guys, anyway?" "Oh, we're Mongols," they say. He nods, noticing the back of the truck is full of kegs of beer. "Well, don't have many of those yet, but Barbarian Freehold is down at the end." They sign waivers and drive in. About five minutes pass. They drive back out, white as sheets. "Who ARE you guys?" they ask. "Society for Creative Anachronism," he says. "Who are you?" "We're the Mongols, a biker gang? We're looking for the big biker rumble at a campground around here?" He tells them that he hasn't seen any rumbles, and refunds their money. The next morning, a noted member of the group says "The MONGOLS?! Those are cool guys! I used to ride with them." Honest. I still have the waiver signed with names like "Injun Joe" and Chico. From: Ariel of Caer Myrddin (Karen J. Norteman) Date: 19 Jun 90 15:48:05 GMT The Barbarian in the Burger King: Everyone in every Kingdom has heard the one about the barbarian (some say Viking) by the nickname of "Animal", who stomped into a Burger King in full regalia, swords and all, and swaggered up to the counter. The person behind the counter asked, "May I... uh... help you, sir?" The barbarian pounded on the counter with one huge fist and demanded, "MEAT!" To which the counter person replied, 'And how would you like that, sir?" The barbarian reached into his belt pouch, pulled out a coin, flipped it, then answered, "COOKED!" A few minutes later, the manager appeared with a stack of cooked beef patties and asked the barbarian to please enjoy them elsewhere. The Knight on the Subway: A knight from the New York area decided to take the subway home from fighting practice, but was too tired to deal with the hassle of removing his chain mail first; he just put his coat on over it and walked into the subway. He sat down and began to doze. Presently a mugger came over to him and drew a knife, saying, "Give me your money!" The knight opened one eye and said, "No." This confused the mugger a bit, as he wasn't used to hearing such a reply. He repeated, "I said, give me all your money!" The knight answered, "And I said no." The mugger then stabbed the knight with the knife, which hit the chain mail and broke. The knight, still wearing his gauntlets, then backhanded the mugger across the subway car. When the subway drew to a stop, the mugger ran out of there as fast as he could go without looking back. From: mwm@raven.pa.dec.com (Mike Meyer) Date: 19 Jun 90 19:31:04 GMT Aren't interactions with mundane's fun? My favorite is about the time the IRS called into question the kingdom's non-profit status, and sent an auditor out to check it over. Auditor: How do you choose your president? SCAdian: We don't have a president. Auditor: Well, your CEO, then? SCAdian: We don't have a CEO. Auditor: Well, what do you call the person who runs things? SCAdian: The King. Auditor: King? Strange. Well, how do you choose him? Elections? SCAdian: No, trial by combat. And that ended the audit. From: Heather of Blair Sionach (Marji Klugerman) Date: 18 Jun 90 12:56:05 GMT Okay....the story I heard is that a gentleman in the SCA witnessed a rape occurring (the general place is the subway somewhere in the NorthEast). He interrupted the rapists and was pretty badly hurt by them while the girl got away. The King of the East knighted him for his deed. The gentleman in name is (I believe) Sir Koppel, who presently resides in South Florida. I've never gone to him and asked about his knighthood personally, but this is the story that most of us have heard about him.... Oh, I've also heard the "Knife in the chainmail" story, but I heard it as follows: SCA person works late nights in a convience store. He had just finished a chainmail shirt, and was wearing it to get used to the weight. He was bend- ing over stocking some shelves when a thug walks in. The thug walks by the SCA person. The SCA person feels a bit of pressure on his back and turns to look at the thug. The thug has a freaked out expression on his face, and then runs out of store. The employee then goes back to his work. About 10 minutes later a woman walks in the store, sees the employee and screams. At this point the employee realizes that a knife is sticking out of his back, stuck in the chainmail... Of course, the knife would have probably gone through the chainmail, but it is a fun story... From: norteman@gemvax.enet.dec.com (Karen J. Norteman) Date: 20 Jun 90 19:16:43 GMT Here are some more famous (?) urban legends from the SCA. Nearly everyone has heard that this happened to Lord/Lady FOAF at one time or another. The Lady and the Mugger: This one is said to have taken place in New York. A woman was walking down the street when a knife-wielding mugger attacked her. He was about to rape her when a bunch of SCAdians, still in armour from fighting practice, came around the corner. Instantly they drew their swords and attacked the mugger, eventually driving him off (some versions say he'd had his hand cut off, or some such thing). After ascertaining that the woman was okay and drawing some passersby to look after her, the fighters left. Later on the woman testified to the police that she'd been saved by some knights in shining armour, but she never did find out who they were. The Baron of Someplace: (this one may actually have happened) A bunch of SCAdian types were having a demo in a park somewhere. There were fighters and dancers and musicians and all sorts of people, roaming around in mediaeval costume and conversing with the passersby. One of the things that characterizes the SCA is the fact that one has to earn titles and have them awarded by the Royalty in order to call oneself "Lord", "Lady", "Sir", or whatever. Anyway, a nice young man with a European accent came to see what was going on and ended up having a pretty good time for himself. He asked the local SCAdians about joining the group. When they asked him his name, he said, "Baron Thusandso." They explained that he couldn't call himself a Baron because he hadn't earned the title, and then they asked what his real name was. He replied, "Baron Thusandso." It turns out he was a REAL Baron from somewhere in Europe. The Health Inspector: (This is a variation on the chainmail stories.) One SCAdian type was a health inspector from someplace in New Jersey (or so the story goes). Anyway, this person never took off his chain mail (people sometimes wear it all day in order to get used to the weight, but this man took that to extremes by wearing it under his suit to work.). One day he was called upon to inspect a particularly bad restaurant and to shut it down. He arrived there with the appropriate papers and was just about to declare the place closed when the owner threw a meat cleaver at him. Imagine the owner's face when the meat cleaver bounced off the inspector's chest! Anyway, the owner got some time in jail and the inspector got a few bruises. From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman) Date: 20 Jun 90 18:39:56 GMT There's also a tale running around that says the SCA was investigated by the FBI, back in the mid '70's. They sent one of their agents to infiltrate, and he had such a good time that he sent word back to Washington that not only were they not subversives, they were great folks and he was having a wonderful time, and intended to officially join! Oh yes, why they were being investigated was the name: Society for Creative Anachronism. Well, it seems that the fellows in the FBI didn't know the difference between the words "Anachronism" and "Anarchism"! From: Ellisif Flakkingskvinne (Monica Cellio) Date: 21 Jun 90 01:42:12 GMT One of the first SCA stories that I ever heard hasn't appeared here yet, so here goes. This is typically told of someone who is walking home from an event or meeting (in garb) in New York City. As is usual for these stories, a mugger approaches, draws a knife, and demands all of our hero's money, and of course our hero says "no". The mugger then says, "Look, I've got six inches of steel that says you're going to give me all your money *right now*." At this point our hero reaches over his shoulder, draws the bastard sword he is carrying on his back, and says, "I'll see your six and raise you thirty." Exit one scared mugger, quickly. From: RML3362%TAMVENUS.BITNET@MITVMA.MIT.EDU Date: 18 Jan 89 04:45:00 GMT A while back we were telling SCA stories, here is one I heard a long while ago while I was rather intoxicated so here is what I remember of it: There was once a lord who lived in the downtown area of a large southern city. Now this lord as many members of the society do had a fascination with weapons. He had all sorts of weapons, many of which he kept on his living room wall. He had axes, morning stars, maces, daggers, polearms, several swords, many many different and lovely implements of destruction, but his pride and joy, the star of his collection a truly marvelous katana. This ancient long sword from japan was the envy of all his friends, made long ago by a master in Japan. The lord was fastidious about caring for his weapon, keeping it sharp as only ancient katana can be sharp. He kept it oiled and clean, placing it in a case above his couch. Now this being the downtown section of a large southern city there were in existence varlets, rogues, thieves and burglars. Now some of these less savory types did choose one night to assail the lord's abode. Now on this night when the less savory types did choose to assail the lord's abode the lord, being a sensible sort, had learned early on that during the summer in large southern cities to sleep in the state he was born in. And so snoozing, au natural, he head a creaking sound, as if someone were attempting to open his back door with a prybar. He arose and proceeded to don the only garments handy, to wit a pair of old gray socks that rumor has were once white. So accoutered he proceeded downstairs to investigate. On arriving at the lower landing he found that not only did it appear that someone was indeed attempting to pry open his rear door but that someone was also attempting to open his front door. Now here the lord had to make a choice, the front door was locked but it had a rather insecure lock, while the rear door was securely barred. He figured that he had at most a few minutes before the front door was opened and perhaps a few more before the rear succumbed. And knowing the police in this city would not get there before a day or two, he decided that he had to take matters into his own hand. So thinking he reached for his treasured blade which hung above his couch and stood ready to receive the varlet before the front door. He succeeded in forcing the lock and as the door opened, saw the worthy standing in front of him. He immediately decided to attack, rushing upon our lord, carrying a blunt instrument which he had brought with him. The intruder rushed forward, swinging a baseball bat over his head. The lord dodged the deadly swing, and struck at the robber, severely lacerating said foeman's epidermis and causing him to howl in agony. At this point the criminals at the rear door succeeded in forcing it. Now good gentles I ask you to imagine the scene before the scurrilous rogues, they had expected a nice easy robbery, what they found was a large naked man in gray socks holding a dripping sword over a fallen confederate who whimpered and bled on the floor. The lord darkly growled to the suddenly pale interlopers "Get out of my house." The thieves then proceeded to set new land speed records exiting the house. Alas all is not happy though good readers, the lord, being a kindly sort, called the police and an ambulance for the fallen intruder. They arrived and picked up the fallen villain. The lord thought it was over and done with, when several days later he received a subpoena, the thief was suing the lord for mental anguish, causing permanent physical harm, and interfering with his livelihood. It seems that the thief had a large scar running the length of his chest, had lost partial use of his right arm below the shoulder and total use of his left arm below the elbow. When taken before the judge, they each told their stories, after a short deliberation the judge came forth and decided that the lord was indeed in the right and since the criminal was in the process of of committing a felony, to wit attempted murder, he deserved what he got, though he did caution the lord that it ever happened again to make sure that the blow caused damage that was a bit more "permanent". From: norteman@gemvax.enet.dec.com (Karen J. Norteman) Date: 21 Jun 90 18:54:34 GMT (Jane Beckman x4030) writes... >There's also a tale running around that says the SCA was investigated by >the FBI, back in the mid '70's... I don't know if that's true, but I DO know that the DOD has classified the SCA as a "paramilitary organization, considered mostly harmless." (I heard this from a secretary for the DOD who had to be investigated for a clearance when she changed departments.) Oh yes -- the SCA is also considered to have a pretty good chance surviving any anarchy that may break out after World War III. From: norteman@gemvax.enet.dec.com (Karen J. Norteman) Date: 21 Jun 90 21:31:48 GMT These came from Lord Diego Mundoz (Robert Huff from Boston). 1) Bikers: My version came from Mistress Alizaunde de Breguf in the early '80s. (But please fault me, not her.) It starts in California, exact place unspecified. "John Doe" was taking a metalworking course, and decided to build a double-bitted six-foot haft Norse axe for his final project. With edge and everything. "John" is six foot several, blonde, bearded, and muscular. "John" is approached by someone else in the class who is intrigued by the axe and thinks there's some people John might like to meet .... (Time passes. "John" joins the SCA. "John" learns to make armor. "John" makes really impressive set of full chain.) Cut to major Kingdom event, with many, many people present. The event is being held on plateau at top of hill accessable by single narrow twisting road. A biker gang, maybe the Hell's Angels, have used this place in the past for meetings. The initial biker gets to edge of plateau, sees the people in funny clothes, and goes to tell his friends. Someone in the SCA sees the biker and tells the autocrat, who consults with the chivalry, who deploy fighters and archers. The bikers return in force, see multiple dressed lines of fighters, and the archers in formation to the sides. Standing out front are the half dozen most physically impressive, including "John". "John" is in full armor and leaning on axe. Bikers dismount, talk it over amongst themselves, and ride down hill. 2) "See your four and raise ..." I've heard a number of versions told - this is the first one I heard. Somewhere down South an indoor event was being held in a good-sized city. Unknown to most, the site was on the border between a decent and a not-so-decent part of town. As the event was breaking up for some reason a handful of out-of-towners left the hall (in coutume, including long cloaks, but unarmored) looking for a store (exact variety unspecisied). They took a bad turn, and soon realized they were lost. They also realized that they had picked up a following (of about their own number). During the attempt to avoid trouble they found y) nodded to the others. The group threw open their cloaks, pulled (steel) swords and the lady said "See your four, and raise you thirty-six." There was a long pregnant pause, the knives dropped to the ground, and the prospective muggers fled. The Anachronists wasted no time in getting out of there and finding directions back to safe ground. 3) "Knife in the chainmail" This may be part of the "Clan Gas Station" set. If so, it has a time and place (Boston, middle '70's). It is accompanied by ... 4) Bigger Weapon (Mugger enters gas station office with knife out. Sees large man in chain sharpening full-length broadsword. Mugger looks at knife, at sword, at knife, at sword, puts knife away and leaves). From: smonroe@bert.lerc.nasa.gov (Shirley Monroe) Date: 21 Jun 90 13:10:11 GMT My favorite SCA story involves the USS Nimitz aircraft carrier. It seems there is an active Shire (smallish SCA group) aboard that vessel, since many SCA members are also in the military. --- It also seems that the ship was at one time (who knows when?) being followed by a Russian trawler. This trawler had been shadowing the Nimitz for some time, taking lots of pictures, the whole bit. Well, the captain of the Nimitz decided to have some fun. An announcement went out over the public address system of the ship: "All SCA fighters, not on duty, report to the deck in full armor in ten minutes. All others not on duty, help the fighters into their armor." The order was carried out, and, when the fighters got to the deck, the further order was given: "We will now commence two hours fighting practice." The trawler took notice and took even more pictures; it is said that it edged in closer to the ship. So, if they weren't destroyed on sight, somewhere in KGB files there are a whole lot of pictures of about 15 guys in plate mail practicing sword and shield ock of a US aircraft carrier. I'm told that this incident actually happened, but I don't know, know of, or recall hearing the names of any of the people involved. From: dcb@cci632.UUCP (Douglas Brainard) Date: 21 Jun 90 16:49:40 GMT This one goes back a way. It was related by Harlan Ellison in 73, long before I became active. The Volkswagon One day, out in the West (San Francisco?) some SCAdians were enjoying themselves with food and drink. One of them was a burly fighter-type who was showing off his new suit of plate armor. As they left the bar, they discovered that the local police were in the process of dispersing a political disturbance (riot). The police, who were using rubber bullets, were dismayed at the sight of a "knight in shining armor", and opened fire. The bullets (of course) bounced off, but did manage to trigger the short temper of the fighter. He advanced on the police, who continued to fire. Eventually, he was enraged to the point that he drew his two-handed sword and clove a Volkswagon bug in half. Corwin of Darkwater Douglas Brainard, Rochester, NY Thescorre, AEthelmearc, East cci632!ccird7!dcb@cs.rochester.edu From: cep@Apple.COM (Christopher Pettus) Date: 23 Jun 90 01:53:08 GMT The SCA is holding a tourney in (as told to me) Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. Lots of people bashing on each other with a wide variety of ratan weapons. All the appropriate permits have been secured. A local softball team arrives (sans permit) expecting to use "their" field for the game that they always have on weekends, only to find it (ahem) otherwise engaged. They storm off, return with several of San Francisco's finest, who are not quite sure what to make of the tourney. They ask a local SCA'er who is in charge, which eventually leads them to the King. The King is asked to present the permit. King (to lackey): "Summon our Herald." (Herald is fetched.) King (to Herald): "Let These know Our will regarding the use of This Field." Herald (in best declamatory style) proceeds to read the permit to the increasingly-bemused police officers (and increasingly irate softball players). Police officers leave, softball players leave, tourney continues. From: norteman@gemvax.enet.dec.com (Karen J. Norteman) Date: 27 Jun 90 14:48:24 GMT This was related to me by Master Edwin Berserk--who claimed to have actual documentation (about which more later). let me note that Master Edwin was the first SCA Earl Marshall . . . Prior to the Stop the Draft Week demonstrations in Oakland, CA in the late 60s, a couple of the prospective demonstrators were training under and SCA fighter with sword and shield. They went to the demonstrations with rather specially constructed picket signs. The sign was plywood, and rather heavier tahn one might suspect and the picket was larger and thicker than usual. It was also rather easy to remove the picket from the sign. In addition, there were straps on the back of the sign . . . When the demonstrations turned violent, and the police moved in--these two are reputed to have gotten out in the street, back to back, removed the pickets from the signs, put their arms through the straps and awaited the police. . . They are reputed to have clubbed down about a dozen officers before be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Master Edwin claimed to have talked to people who saw news coverage of the incident. He later found a copy of a magazine ("Black Belt" if memory serves) with photos of the incident. It is the only time I've previously heard of a direct confrontation between anyone with SCA training (they weren't SCA members) and police. From: Sandorfia Miklos (Andrew Draskoy) Date: Tue, 14 May 1991 23:49:27 GMT In article <9105040323.aa20022@mc.lcs.mit.edu> PSCHROED@DREW.BITNET writes: >Does anyone have any classic SCA "interview" stories to share? Well, this was a different kind of interview, but... On the way to my first Pennsic last year, I had to run the usual guantlet of airport customs and immigration officers. Now, if you've ever flown over a (mundane) border to an S.C.A. camping event, you'll know what was running through my head. "Please don't ask too many questions... please don't want to open everything up, I'll never be able to put it all back together again. I don't want to explain why my camping gear includes daggers and goblets, and why I've got all these funny clothes, and what the bodhran is." The fellow at the immigration counter asked me where I was going. Safe enough. What was I going to do there? Go camping. Was I meeting friends or family? Hmmmm... well, I'm sure they'll become friends, but it's probably easier to say... "No." "So, you're going camping in the woods all by yourself?" he said suspiciously. "Well, no," says I. "Aha! So you *ARE* meeting family or friends!" expounds he, delightedly. Heaving a mental sigh, I resign myself to saying "I'll be with a group of people who do historical re-enactment." This is what I was told to say by seasoned Pennsic veterns. "Avoid mentioning the S.C.A., or the word 'medieval'", they said. "What time period?" queries the surly border guard? "Shit", thinks I. When I tell him, he says something like "Are you part of that Creative Anarc...something..." "Society for Creative Anachronism", I said. "Oh! You're going to Pennsic!" says he. "Go on through." ..... "!!!" says I. . . . I related this to a couple of people one day. Several hours later, at a distant part of the site, I passed a group of gentles I didn't know, going the other way. They were listening to their leader, and as I passed them by, I heard him conclude: "Oh, you're going to *Pennsic*! Go on through." Stories travel fast in the society! There is a wonderful story I had from Lord Emrys Hawkwind about a king of the East going through customs at Heathrow, which I haven't seen mentioned on the Rialto. I'd like to hear other versions if anyone knows it. ----- Sandor fia Lord Miklos Andrew Draskoy Shire of Ar n-Eilean-ne, EK Memorial University of Newfoundland andrew@bransle.ucs.mun.ca From: joshua@paul.rutgers.edu (Josh Mittleman) Date: 15 May 91 17:42:42 GMT Greetings from Arval! Lord Miklos posts a delightful story of SCAdians at the border. Along with the Four Barbarians at the Burger Joint Story, this is one of my favorite pieces of SCA/mundane mythology. My definition of SCA mythology, by the way, is anything that I hear attributed by name to more than two groups of people. After it happens that many times, the storyteller is free to embroider the tale as seems appropriate. I think this makes the fourth example of this story that I've heard, and they're all fun. The one I tell has an extra twist: The border guard was a SCAdian himself, and wished them "Good luck at Pennsic, and say Hi to Hasdrubal for me." The story of the King of the East at customs at Heathrow is probably one version of the Saga of Aelfwine in England, which has several parts. The one in question was related to me thus (with less than the usual embroidery): It came to pass that Aelfwine, King of the Easterlings, travelled across the ocean to visit his subjects upon the British Isles. As this was a ceremonial visit, he brought with him all the necessary bits and pieces: haubrake, crowns, sword, and so on. Upon reaching those distant shores, the local immigration official required him to open his luggage for inspection, and was most disconcerted by that which he discovered within. Politely asking Aelfwine to wait a moment, he fled to find a supervisor. As the inspector and his supervisor returned along the corridor, the supervisor was overheard to say "Don't be silly. It's been 900 years since anyone came to England with armor and a sword, and they didn't stop at Customs!" Arval. Joshua Mittleman (mittle@watson.ibm.com or joshua@paul.rutgers.edu) J2-C28 T.J. Watson Research Institute, PO Box 704, Yorktown Heights, NY 10598 From: Colin_Hart@mindlink.bc.ca (Colin Hart) Date: 16 May 91 00:35:29 GMT Well I have never flown across with all my SCA gear, but I have crossed the 49th paralell many times heading for an event and a few stick out. Once I was going to a day tourney in the Shire if Shittemwood(Bellingham WA),and I had a couple of pole arms in the roof rack, the Troll (BOrder Guard) started asking all the usual questions and then paused as he spotted the weapons and said"AH there's a Little anachronism going on this weekend"and the whole tone of questions changed! the second one that stands out is when asked the purpose of my visit to the USA I stated that I was attending a meeting of my medieval historical society( long winded but from experience I know it works!) and the Guard came back with "Ah the Society For Creative Anachronism Fast Eddies contemporaries!" Fast Eddie is a name possibly better known to many as Viscount Sir Edward Zifran Bastard D Gendy. So we are known at the borders! Colin MAckay of Balmaghie Lions Gate An Tir, Taking time out from packing and cooking for Crown. From: justin@inmet.inmet.COM (Justin du Coeur MKA Mark Waks) Date: 17 May 91 17:15:29 GMT Sandor fia Lord Miklos writes: > There is a wonderful story I had from Lord Emrys Hawkwind about a >king of the East going through customs at Heathrow, which I haven't >seen mentioned on the Rialto. I'd like to hear other versions if >anyone knows it. Well, as I heard it, it was Aelfwine. As the story goes, the easiest way to carry the chain mail was to wear it. When they got to Heathrow, the junior customs officer didn't know what to do, and went to a superior. Overheard from the conversation: "Don't be *daft*, man! London hasn't seen knights in shining armor in five hundred years!" I don't know if the story has *any* basis in fact -- anyone from Stormgard who can give an authoritative answer? From: dolata@lead.uazaic.arizona.edu (Dolata) Date: 17 May 91 21:50:31 GMT Dearest Gentles... I pray your indulgence, for the following story is not strictly related to the SCA, but does pertain to activities surrounding historical research pursuent to SCA interests. And, mayhaps you will find it amusing... I have several other such stories, and if my dear readers do find some amusement in this story, then I would be pleased to present them. Yours in Service, Thomas Ignatius Perigrinus Minister of Arts and Sciences College of St Felix (choose your favorite, there are 17 St. Felixs) The Lump While I was working in Sweden, I had many chances to visit London. Through a strange set of circumstances, while performing historical research I was able to be of service to the Abbot of Westminster Abbey. As a reward, I was presented with a weather worn carved capital from the Chapel of Henry VI'th which was being replaced with a new one. (The service had pertained to this restoration work) Although weatherworn and a bit crumbly, it is delicately carved, and so I worked hard to protect it. Since it weighs 50+ pounds, this was not easy. Fortunately, I had traveled from Sweden to England with my good Lady, her Mother, and her sister... Even though the latter two of our party were planning to travel onwards, rather than return to Sweden, it had been cheapest to buy everyone round trip tickets... So the fact that I had a 50+ pound chunk of Westminster Abbey didn't seem like it would present a problem... I had a pair of spare return trip tickets. It could fly as a passanger!!!! Check in was fun... "I'd like to check in three to Sweden..." presenting the tickets... "Yes sir... would you put your carry on bag on the scale???" "No, that's one of the passangers". "Yes, sir, you you put _their_ bag on the scale." "No, I didn't make myself clear. That is not a bag belonging to a passanger... that bag is the passanger." "Excuse me sir... did you say the BAG is the PASSANGER?" "Yes, and it would like a window seat." At this point they decided I was definately daft, and I spent th next ten minutes talking to various managers... Finally that was cleared up, and the bag got it's window seat. Arriving at the security gate, I placed my bag firmly (ka-thunk) on the x-ray machine... and of course no x-rays penetrated the rock... So they asked me; "What do you have in there, a rock?" "Why yes, I do". "Well sir, could you be so kind as to open it?" "But of course..." Well, they were very amused, but seeing as how I had the foresight to obtain a legal possesion and export document, they finally let it through. I thought I had it made, but the people at the boarding gate noticed that I was lugging this bag as if it contained somewhat over the 14 pounds weight allowance for carry on luggage. Also, I was treating it gingerly since it is a irreplaceable thing, and I didn't want to damage it... "Excuse me sir, but if tht bag weighs more than 14 pounds you will have to check it..." "No, thats okay, it isn't a bag, it's a passanger with it's own ticket... right here." With that, I showed the ticket. "Yes sir, where is teh person who's ticket this is?" "No, let me make it clear, this bag is the passanger, it is going to sit in a seat, next to the window." "Yes, sir, could you kindly step into the security office with us?..." Sigh... Finally we board the airplane... I thought we had it made... But alas, fate had a bit mroe planned for me. Shortly after the plane buttoned up, the stewardess came around and asked me if I could move the bag off of the seat (It was firmly seat belted in place), because a passanger wanted to move to the window (I should have realized that might cause problems). "No, I am afraid I won't move the bag, and besides, I have paid for that seat...." "Well yes sir, if that is your reserved seat, than could you sit in it and give the other gentleman the seat you are sitting in?" "I'm afraid I have not made it clear... I have paid for a ticket for the bag... it is a passanger. That is it's reserved seat.... I have a ticket, I am a passanger, and this is my reserved seat. We are both passangers, with tickets, and reserved seats... (and trying to suprress a grin) And we would both like the chicken entree." .... eventually I was able to convince the co-pilot that the bag was a bona-fide passanger with a ticket, that it didn't constitute a threat to the welfare of the airplane, and that it did have a right to both the window seat and the chicken entree... From: mjc+@cs.cmu.edu (Monica Cellio) Date: 20 May 91 03:25:57 GMT I am reminded of a story told by Mistress Megan ni Laine, a scribe and Baroness Stonemarche (East Kingdom). Megan has done a lot of research on period pigments, and has even received mundane research grants to do some of the studies. On one occasion, she was in Italy searching for the basis for a particular red or brown pigment. It had come from the ground or clay in a certain part of Italy, but in the intervening 5-600 years the area had changed and it was no longer easy to get. Fortunately, she somehow found some old bricks which she thought were made of the right sort of clay, and after acquiring them ("what, you want some bricks? No problem. Oh, you want *those* bricks. Sure, whatever you say..."), she headed off to the airport and customs. Naturally, the bricks were impervious to X-rays, and she had to show them to the security people. The security people couldn't understand why she wanted to transport bricks from Italy back to the US, and insisted that she must be concealing something in them. No, she said, they're just bricks. The security people suggested breaking open some of these bricks to make sure that's all they were. And so it was that Megan was spared much of the work of having to reduce the bricks to powder to paint with them. Ellisif Flakkingskvinne From: Alex_Hart@mindlink.bc.ca (Alex Hart) Date: 19 May 91 21:28:46 GMT Hers in Lions Gate,border crossings are very much a routine part of SCA events,so there are guards who do know of us. On one journey one carload of gentles was asked to prove they were going to an SCA event by naming the baron of Lions Gate.We know not who the guard was but he was not in the SCA as far as we know. Anyone in the east who knows Viscount Sir Edward Ziffron may assure him that he is not forgotten by officials at the 49th either.Every so often we still will find a guard who isn't quite sure just *what* SCA means, but will recognise us as "Fast Eddies" friends which does make crossing the line *so* much easier ! Alastair the Eastern Traveller Lions Gate,An Tir From: storm@hlafdig.stonemarche.ORG (Arastorm the Golden) Date: 24 May 91 15:40:38 GMT On the border-crossing, I'm sure that so much of whether you have trouble depends on whether many SCA'ers have gone before you. Recently having been asked to come up to an event in, I think, Havre de Glace, specifically because the folk up there are desperate to have merchants come, we investigated the import laws. As explained to us- in some detail- over the phone, it is very simple. You must have a complete inventory of your stock. You then pay the duty on your whole stock, then tell them on the way back what you did not sell, and they will send you a refund check. The draw-back is that this could take 3 months. The other drawback is that we sell sew on jewels, which we buy by weight, and they want an inventory by count, which they said will be checked by countin random boxes for accuracy. At a simple guess, I would say that we have over 80 sizesxcolorsxshapes of gems, and the reason we don't do mail order is because we are never sure how many of each we have. If you have a half dozen carved chests or two dozen knives- and you don't mind waiting for 3 months to get the 17% duty + 7% federal tax back (which using the knife example and figuring an average $100 per knife comes to about $600) and you know you can sell more than one quarter of your stock at one event- maybe it would be worth it. My guess is that if there was a sympathetic border guard where you crossed, you might not have those problems. Does anyone know better? So far I have only heard- "well we never had any problems", but that was from non-merchants, and the customs people told us that attempts at fraud can get your whole stock seized. The people in Canada deserve our support. They are part of our organisation, and for some of us, part of our kingdoms. But this is a difficult thing to come around. The saddest story I heard was of a Canadian craftsman who was told at the border that he would not be allowed to take his hand crafted folding chairs across to sell at Pennsic unless he would burn: Product of Canada into them- thus (as he pointed out to the customs officials) totally destroying their value as historical replicas. If we put our heads together we should be able to come up with something. Isn't there a Ministry of History or something similar we could appear to for waivers of some of these regulations?