Three times in the last few weeks I've had the opportunity to drop into other people's lives.
The most recent was a visit to the Mountain Men Rendezvous in Antonito, New Mexico.
"Rendezvous," you ask? In the 1830s, fur trappers gathered in various places in western North America to sell their furs and purchase supplies for the coming year. According to the story, they drank themselves silly, fornicated as much as possible, and played at various games and sports to pass the time while they waited for the wagons to arrive from St. Louis. Modern re-enactors dress in 1820s costumes, and, at least in Antonito, engage in knife and "hawk" (tomahawk) throwing contests.
It was a world taken very seriously by the mountain men and their ladies. But strange, even otherworldly to me. I learned about the proper size of a hawk and how muzzle loading rifles work and I handled an elaborately beaded pouch made out of a bull's scrotum, owned by our host, whose "mountain name" was Long Tongue. But no liquor at this gathering. Lemonade only, I'm glad to say. I wouldn't have been comfortable with all those knives and hawks whizzing around if the guys and gals had been addled with alcohol.
And also : a few weeks ago, in New Orleans, we shared lunch with the Lords of Leather. A scary, in-your-face name, but a more welcoming group of men I've rarely met. Some were costumed, but most of them looked like a bunch of accountants enjoying a weekend cookout. No doubt their fellowship engaged private matters that I don't know about and wouldn't understand. Lives very different from mine.
Also in New Orleans, we attended a "ball." Not a ball that involves dancing -- more of a pageant, a display of elaborate costuming. It was sponsored by the Krewe of Iris, a group of women who roll their pageant wagons (floats) during Mardi Gras. We costumed ourselves for the ball -- fancy long dress and tuxedo. The members of the Krewe a) take it all very seriously, and b) know that it's silly and c) take it seriously nonetheless.
There must be thousands of these cultures and sub-cultures in our rich and various nation. I'm happy to have participated, a bit, in these worlds.
And I wonder, of course, how strange and exotic my life and culture, bland and ordinary to me, might seem to some of the mountain men and leather-lords and Iris ladies.
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