Medieval Musings
August 21, 1998

Here I suffer, sitting before a blank computer screen, whipped by every columnist's worst enemy: writer's block. It's not that I have nothing to talk about; It's just that people are always expecting me to be funny. As a serious writer, that hurts my feelings.

Besides, folks, there's nothing funny about trying to be funny. Listen, my idea of fun is reading a coffee table book called "Dark Justice: A History of Punishment and Torture" I can't find anything funny about this book, yet it inspires me. The book is all about crucifixions, inquisitions, witch hunts, and the cruel and sometimes ingenious methods we humans have used throughout the ages to inflict pain on each other.There are a lot of grotesque illustrations. I read it every chance I can get.

You see, there's a dark side of me that I can't describe. No one knows the real Raiford Starke, not even me. So, I went to visit my ole friend Rev. Cindy the other day. She specializes in spiritual healing and past life regressions - you know, where you find out who or what you were in a past life. She agreed to take me back a few hundred years and told me to lie down and relax . . .

Guess what? In the middle ages I was a town crier in County Stark, England. And one day, they put me in one of those torture racks with my arms and head stuck in holes and people threw stones at me in the town square.

My crime: I offended the king by giving a speech about the Copernican Theory of the universe. "Yea, peasant Starke, if ye dare think the earth revolves around the sun, then we shall teach thee that crime doesn't pay! (Hey, I didn't choose to be heliocentric, I was born that way . . . )

Anyway, after my career as a town crier ended, I decided to get back on the King's good side. I became a Court Jester and Song Scribe. I even had a regional hit back then titled "The Skimmington Ride." You see, during my past life in the 17th century, if you found out that your wife had been cheatin' on you then the law would put her up on a horse and tie her up back to back with the man she was cheating with and they would have to ride all day through town to be taunted by the townfolk. This was known as the "skimmington ride" or "skimmity" for short. I put together a little Medieval beat ditty that went something like this:

Skim skimmity, skim skimmity, skim skim skirree Tis the skimmington ride for my baby and thee It takes two to tango, sometimes it takes three Skim skimmity, skim skimmity, skim skim skirree!

The song went all the way to No. 5 on the Hellenic chart. It was supposedly Friar Tuck's favorite song and was used in the soundtrack for one of Shakespeare's plays. One of the bigger groups of that time, the Lance-a-lots, covered the song. Apparently, I made enough off that one song to buy a little cottage in the countryside and a mail order bride. A week later, some guy who looked like Mel Gibson rode up on a horse and stole my house and the girl.

I spent the rest of the Middle Ages wandering from town to town, a subject for the occasional "Where Are They Now" column in the local rags.

Man, when I woke up from Dr. Cindy's spell I thought, Wow! here in the 90s there is all kinds of cheatin' goin' on. I think it's high time we bring back the skimmington ride, this time with a bluesy rock n' roll beat. He-e-ere we go-o-o!

Skimmity skim, here am I Was that Bill and Monica I saw go by On a skimmington ride A skimmington ride 'Cause the FBI Says DNA don't lie Ride Bill Ride On a skimmington ride

Incredible, after nearly 300 years, I've still got the songwriting touch. It's not funny, you say? You're right. It's the blues. I'll be laughing all the way to the bank.

-- Raiford Starke is a blues musician who lives in Fort Lauderdale.

© August 21, 1998, The Seminole Tribune