Independently Speaking By Brent Olson

Viking Fest

Here I am at Viking Fest.

I didn’t really see it coming, but when a friend of mine who also writes books suggested we share the cost of a booth, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to say no. My marketing plan for the past few years is to hope that people drive in the yard and offer to give me money for books. That hasn’t worked out that well, so I decided actually being out in public seemed good as a Plan B.

Our booth is across the street from the Beer, Wine, and Mead Tent. Even though it’s not yet 10:00 a.m. a line of revelers has formed, some of them carrying battle axes. Ordinarily I’d be concerned, but some of the axes are foam, so I think it’s going to be okay. A guy behind me is playing a bass drum and occasionally howling something about “thunder” in a guttural voice.

I’m finding the whole thing fascinating. Most of the people walking by are just out for a Saturday, but a significant number are really, really into the event. That leads to some odd sights — a guy dressed in furs and tattoos, carrying a rune-encrusted shield, accompanying his mother who was dressed in a hot pink tee shirt and riding an electric scooter. No dragon head or oars on the scooter, which seems like a wasted opportunity. I’m seeing more braided beards than I’m accustomed to and since it’s almost 90 degrees, I’m questioning the fashion choice of fur cloaks.

I remember a college professor saying in class that everyone wears a costume at all times. Shortly after, I read an article by Molly Ivins who said her fashion statement was, “Woman who wears clothes so she won’t be naked.”

I’ve come down on Molly’s side of the equation more often than not. I’m often appalled when I look down at myself and see what I wore to town.

Not these folks. They’re relishing their costume choices. If I could figure out a way to do it without being rude, I’d love to query people about why they’d chosen to wear a metal helmet with chain mail dripping from their chin or head-to-toe Viking garb — except for lavender Crocs. I’m just not sure how to start the conversation. My opinion, based on zero facts or research, is that some folks really wish they were someone else, or maybe not someone else, but clearly somewhere else. 

I understand the appeal, I really do. There is so much about this world that I wish we could change and so much of it is completely out of my control. On the other hand, we have antibiotics, central air conditioning, and freshness dates on milk cartons — all wins.

It’s funny, I know quite a lot about what my great-grandparents went through 150 years ago and I’ve been a few places to see what people went through 1,000 years ago in an effort to make a living and, I gotta tell you, I wouldn’t want to change places. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be a king or noble warrior. I’d be the guy cleaning up behind the dairy goats.

I have to admit that there will be no deep philosophical insights from this column. If you want to wear a bear skin, complete with skull, or pretend you’re a Saxon princess for the weekend, go for it, I wish you well. But when Monday rolls around, it’s probably best that as many of us as possible live in the real world.

Copyright 2025 Brent Olson