Radio Rats Reunite

I worked in radio back in the 90s, a job that taught me how to drink tequila, encouraged me to share my opinions on new music and provided opportunities to meet some interesting characters along the way. One of my favorite oddballs, the former production director, is in from Minneapolis this week so we made plans to meet for dinner tonight.

My friend is gay, a fact I mention only to explain a compliment he gave me years ago which is still one of my favorites. When he first moved to the frigid state of Minnesota, he met a girl who was unaware of his preferences and tried hitting on him. When he realized what she was doing, he stopped her cold by saying, "Honey, if I was going to cross to the dark side, I'd have married Karen years ago." Now that, my friends, is high praise.

He's a native Chicagoan who fell in love with East Coast seafood during the five years he lived in rva, so when I asked if he had any preferences for dinner, all he required was a place he could get crab cakes. I took him to Bonvenu in Carytown, knowing he'd enjoy the feel of the place as well as the food.

I know it's corny, because the place is called Bonvenu and all, but the staff always recognizes me and says things like 'welcome back' and 'nice to see you again.' It seems very gracious and I always appreciate it because I am by no means a regular (this was maybe my sixth visit). Perhaps it's because I usually sit at the bar and they have a close-up view of me and I talk a lot. Or maybe they appreciate the fact that I bring someone different every time I come.

I began with the seared ahi tuna with avocado soy ginger over greens, something my Midwestern friend wouldn't think of eating. He went southern with the wild mushrooms with smoked Gouda grits, although when the plate came, he asked me what the white stuff was (which was actually pretty cute). On a related note, he's still grateful that I introduced him to sun-dried tomatoes back in 1993.

He'd known going in that he was going to have the crab cakes and they pleased him exceedingly. I enjoyed the PEI mussels in a spicy tomato garlic broth with grilled flat bread. I don't usually order mussels in a tomato-based broth but was rewarded for doing so. The mussels came atop a giant square of flat bread bigger than the bowl, so the broth sopped through it on the bottom and stayed warm, dry and crusty on the top and sides. It was built in dipping bread and absolutely delicious.

Over dinner my friend wanted life and love details from the past six years since he'd last been to Richmond, so I delivered the highs and lows. He told me about his adventures since arriving Saturday, including an afternoon on Belle Isle admiring the human scenery today. He was especially proud of his sunburned face.

He told me of having lunch at Joe's Inn with the former music director from the station where we worked and couldn't wait to tell me what the guy had said about me. When my friend mentioned we were having dinner tonight, the guy said, "I would have had an affair with that woman." As my friend put it, "All those years we worked together, not once did he tell me he lusted after you in his heart." Nor did he tell me, but he was married, so that's actually a very good thing.

Dropping me off at a decent hour, my friend was eager to get back to his hotel to watch baseball, so I headed over to a neighborhood joint for chocolate and wine. The restaurant owner wanted to discuss his disdain for a recent online piece about his restaurant; I read it and had to agree that his points were all valid. His only consolation was how few people would even read it, but such are the headaches of living in an online world.

It was so much simpler back when we were working in radio in the 90s. If you said something that was unnecessary or bad form on the air, sure, the people listening heard it, but it didn't live on in perpetuity. I have to say, there's a lot of appeal to that.

Of course, there was a lot of appeal to having a station manager who kept a large bottle of good tequila on his desk to smooth out the rough days, but that's a story for another day.