My daughter laughed. Not “hee-hee” laughed. Not snicker, snicker, “how funny” laughed. It was an all-out, snort-inducing, “I can’t believe how ridiculous you look” laugh. The kind that makes parents scream, “BREATHE, child. You can’t go that long without oxygen!”
She was looking at a picture of me in a re-enactor’s outfit. Dressed up like an Old World Spanish oarsman. Puffy white shirt with chest exposed. Pants about the size of a circus tent. Good thing I wasn’t wearing the hat that looked like a pastry puff or the rope sandals.
It was quite a getup, I have to admit.
I will be wearing it as St. Augustine celebrates its 450th anniversary. I’m one of the lucky few helping to re-enact the landing of Pedro Menéndez at the Fountain of Youth on Sept. 5 and then at the big founder’s day celebration on Sept. 8 at the Mission of Nombre de Dios.
I will be rowing Menendez ashore in the 16th century chalupa — a replica of a Spanish longboat. I’ll man an oar and try not to confuse the rowing commands, which will all be in Spanish. (If you see someone in the boat getting furiously yelled at and whacked by a palmetto frond, that’s me!)
But from my daughter’s reaction, I’m not sure I look the part of a salty 16th century Spanish oarsman. People watching will probably wonder why Menendez had his accountant on lead stroke. I’m too clean cut. Too proper. I look like a guy who lost a bet and had to wear a gunny sack for Halloween. Not a tough, seasoned, sun-soaked sailor.
How can I fit the role better? Should I grow a beard? Should I skip showering for the next week? Should I rub grime on my face and fish guts in my hair? Do I need an eye patch? I don’t know.
I never got into this to be a “re-enactor.” I wanted to row a boat when I joined the chalupa crew. I thought it would be fun. I thought we might pet dolphins or fire cannons or drink rum, preferably in fancy glasses with lots of fruit. And thought I would be wearing breathable Nike athletic shirts, not puffy shirts and rope sandals.
I didn’t want to play dress up and relive the past.
Yet, along the way I’ve developed a real appreciation for it all. The commitment and passion of our local re-enactors — how they faithfully recreate history so we can better understand it. The significance of this city’s past — how everyday we walk streets that pre-date the founding of our nation. That even with the simple act of putting on my puffy shirt and pulling on an oar, I’m helping to preserve a piece of our story. It gives me a newfound respect, and makes me proud, even if I am a reluctant re-enactor.
So next week I’ll get dressed in my over-sized getup and brave my daughter’s hysterical ribbing, all in the name of reliving St. Augustine’s past. Keep an eye out for me — I’ll probably be the clean-cut guy getting whacked by Menendez with a palmetto frond. Maybe I messed up his taxes.