Spelling Snob

For my bride's birthday, she received a gift of tickets for the entire family to Medieval Times. I'd never been. In fact, I'd successfully dodged several opportunities to go. There was no escaping this, so I graciously participated and ... you're ahead of me, aren't you? Yes, I enjoyed it. Just like the castles of yore it had a killer sound booth, uber-powerful PA speakers, and booming subwoofers, as well as impressive lighting and a fog machine. If you doubt this is period-appropriate stuff, watch nearly any movie that includes a castle. Somewhere in there, you'll likely see a shot with fog wafting ominously over the flagstones. Uh-huh. Told you so. This place had all that. Plus, fair maidens who actually asked that we address them as "Wench (insert maiden's name here)". In our case this was Wench Holly, who wore mascara, eye shadow, and foundation, just like in the olden days. She had a charming smile, which she formed with all her teeth, so it may not have been totally true to the period, but she treated us well.

The spelling snob part comes in here. I tried to be all technologically savvy and share with all my Facebook friends where I was. This is critical because all my Facebook friends sit around their homes on a Friday evening wondering, "Darn it, what is Dave up to?" just like I would have been doing for them if we hadn't made these plans. So I whipped out my iPhone 3G, pressed the magic buttons on the screen and waited the requisite 4.25 minutes for the screen to load. It was embarrassing, because my sister-in-law, who made this excursion possible, wanted to use my phone as a flashlight and I couldn't give it to her because the screen hadn't come up yet. When it did, I duly pressed the Check In button so my friends could exhale, having received the answer to their pressing question. Here's what appeared as an option: Midevil Times.

Yeah. That's what I thought. Never mind that 892 people had selected that option before me. I mean, by that time the minefield is pretty well cleared, right? There are nearly 900 people out there who either a) are illiterate, or b) give not one rodent's backside about spelling and diligently allayed the fears of their friends as to their whereabouts. Folks, I couldn't do it. If you're one of the friends who was wondering, I apologize for keeping you in suspense. I'm okay. We enjoyed the show and made it home safely. We had a good time. Thanks for asking. But I couldn't press the button that would lead you to believe I would take in a show at Midevil Times. Nope.

I don't even know what Midevil Times would be. Something between Pure Times and Dreadfully Evil Times, I suppose. Or maybe Olde English for "My Devil Times," which might correspond with some mood swings I may have been on the receiving end of a time or two but you'll never hear me swear publicly to it and no this does not constitute that. In this phase of my career I'm more than an editor, but I pretty much was and always will have been an editor first, so I am admittedly something of a snob. Therefore, I am not number 893 on the Check In list.

When you go to the Baltimore/Washington, D.C. Medieval Times, which you'll find in Hanover, Maryland, by the way, I plead with you. Fight the urge. Please go. Enjoy the show. Eat with your hands. Despair that a single napkin will be inadequate for your aggressive eating style. But, post your plans on Facebook before you go so we don't worry about you. Don't yield to haphazard spelling. Check out before you're tempted to Check In. Thank you.