The (Not) Unhappy Hours

There are worse ways to start an evening than with an unhappy hour or two.

The Poe Museum was doing their monthly Unhappy Hours social coinciding with the opening of their new exhibit "Price and Poe: A Match Made in Hell." How could I not check that  out?

Arriving just as a friend did, we walked into the walled garden moments after a performance began. A costumed interpreter was speaking and singing as Poe's mother, the actress Eliza Poe.

She told her life story, sang some period songs and did two monologues, one from Romeo and Juliet and another written for Eliza Poe by a fan. Best line: "And female fortitude shall conquer pain." An enduring sentiment, for sure.

After the performance, a devil's food birthday cake (with a photograph of his face iced onto the cake) was cut in honor of tomorrow being the 100th anniversary of Vincent Price being born.

The "Match Made in Hell" exhibit is small, but illuminating. I don't think I realized that Price had starred in eleven adaptations of Poe's work. And I haven't seen a one of them.

And I had certainly never seen a life mask of Price, right down to his moustache hairs, done five years before his death.

A highlight of the evening was running onto one of the nude models from Gallery 5's recent Disrobed exhibit.

"Last time I saw you, you were naked," I said, sidling up to him. His laugh was so loud and hearty that it made heads turn so it was totally worth mentioning.

Leaving the formerly nude behind, I drove to Sprout to meet a friend for dinner to find the place packed. Luckily my friend had already secured a table because people kept coming in, too.

My friend already knew that he was going to get the sliders (and why not considering how amazing they are) but I succumbed to the pizetta of the day.

With Faith Farms Food sausage, Dave and Dee's mushrooms, bechamel sauce and feta/cheddar, it was mind-blowingly good. So good that when I gave another friend a taste, he ordered one for himself. Our server called it the meatzetta for its generous amount of spicy sausage.

Part of the reason for our early arrival was the "surprise" first performance of a new local band, the Blood Vows.

The inaugural set was short, only four songs, but full-on hard and energetic. Fronting the group was band photographer P.J. Sykes who turned out to have a whole different persona with a guitar in his hand rather than a camera.

I said it then and I'll say it now. He was a monster and I mean that in the best possible way. Go hard or go home doesn't begin to cover it.

The Cinnamon band followed and by then the room was packed and getting warm. I felt myself glowing but most of the guys had a full-on sweat going.

Every time I see this duo play again, I am more impressed with how melodic they are, what good songwriters they are and just how good they are at harmonizing, non-stop crashing drumming and shifting dynamics. Very compelling stuff, all.

Silversmiths were next and the crowd thinned noticeably, but it was 11:30 by then and a school night, so to speak, so perhaps it was understandable.

Last but by no means least were Snowy Owls, a group with somewhat hushed vocals but big fuzzy guitar, bass and drums.

For a lover of soundscapes like yours truly, their borderline shoegaze effects are the stuff of sonic dreams.

A good-sized crowd stayed for their set, confident that this was the best place to be for music in Richmond this Thursday night (okay, Friday morning by now).

A talented musician who had been up north for a while was happily back tonight, a friend cut loose and got uncharacteristically loopy on a school night, and just before the last song of the evening, a semi-drunk guy stepped down hard on my sandaled foot (and spent the rest of the show apologizing for it).

There are worse ways to end an evening than with throbbing toes. Fortunately I'd been lulled into a musical euphoria, so I barely felt it at all.

I can try beginning my night with unhappy hours all I want, but I never quite get the hang of not enjoying myself when friends and good music are involved.

And sausage. One can never underestimate the happiness quotient of a good pig product. Fact.