Never Soon Enough

Something old, something new, something sweet, something shot.

Hopefully it wasn't my backside.

Tonight was the inaugural food truck court at the Virginia Historical Society and I was curious enough to go see what it was all about.

Arriving right at the start time of 6:00, I was amazed at how many people were already there, including TV crews and photographers.

Oddly enough, it must have been a bad day for food trucks because two of the trucks were late due to mechanical issues.

In fact, the Boka truck had to be towed to the site, but they were set up and in business within five minutes.

That's dedication to the cart cause.

And the Dressed & Press truck didn't pull in for another twenty minutes.

Luckily, nobody was in a hurry, so a late arrival wasn't that big a deal.

Meanwhile I ran into a friend sporting facial hair for the first time in the fifteen years I've known him.

A charming couple I'd met at Amour spotted me and we chatted about late nights and easy walks.

I decided on the Boka truck and got in line only to notice that within minutes the line was most of the way across the parking lot.

With that many hungry people behind me, I quickly decided on a fish and pineapple salsa soft taco and an Asian beef taco.

Because the beauty of the Boka truck is that you can pick your ethnicity, Asian, Mexican or American.

As I waited for my food, another girl got hers and a photographer quickly approached her asking to take her smiling picture with her food.

When they called out my name, I responded with "Yo!" and needless to say, got it and beat feet for a picnic table so I wouldn't have to gulp and grin for the camera.

Only once I sat down and met the table's other occupants was I told that my picture had also been taken when I got my food.

Somehow I doubt they got my best side.

By the time I finished eating and talking to strangers, it was time to meet friends for a pre-Listening Room drink at the Camel.

Sipping my Sauza and chatting with my friend about her time in Albany (her comment about the hot guys there will go down in history as one of the funniest lines ever), we were surprised when the bartender approached us with a box of open Girl Scout cookies.

"Want a Samoa?" she inquired as if it were the most natural thing in the world to offer people cookies in a bar.

Not gonna lie, I had one and so did my friends.

Properly fortified with soft tacos, tequila and a Samoa, I adjourned to the Listening Room.

Our friendly substitute emcee Rob was gracious enough to thank those who'd provided baked goods, so I got to hear my name called out along with the others who'd done oven duty for the sake of feeding the the music lovers.

I was completely excited about the first band, Wes Swing, whom I'd seen at Balliceaux about a month ago.

Let's see, there was so much to love. Cello plucked and bowed, upright bass, male and female vocals, looping of said cello and beautiful, literate songs that I didn't want to end.

As a friend noted after their set, "That may be my favorite Listening Room band ever."

She didn't have to sing their praises to me; I'd walked into the room a fan.

One song was based on a poem by Ezra Pound and the last, "Lullabye" romantically crooned, "I can't sleep tonight without you."

Favorite lyric: "And are we soon enough?"

I could sigh just thinking about it.

Up second was Ramona Robbins who began by playing a few songs accompanied by her guitar before moving to the piano.

Her voice was much easier to hear over the piano and those of her songs that leaned toward jazz benefited from the keyboard.

After her set, Rob noted that her pop leanings made for a different sound than what we usually hear at the Listening Room.

It was a valid point because while there have been a fair number of female singers who've performed, few have played the piano, so her girl-on-keyboards sound was something different.

We don't get a lot of Regina Spektor types performing at the Listening Room.

During the break I got all kinds of compliments on the chocolate caramel cookies I'd brought. You'd have thought I'd brought something really good like Samoas.

Last up was Stivali Comodi, a trio of two guys on guitar and a girl on banjo and cello with each taking lead vocals on different songs.

When someone asked about the meaning of the band's name, one member suggested we go home and ask Mr. Google before the girl said that it apparently translates as "loose-fitting boots."

Because each of their voices was so different, there was a completely different feel to each song.

Throughout their set, I'd been curious about what looked like a white toy piano in front of one of the guitarists.

He finally played it for the last song but instead of the "plink, plink, plink" I expected to hear, what we got instead was more of a harmonium sound.

It was a fitting way to end Listening Room number 28.

Wow, twenty eight shows. Time flies when you're hearing good music.

And eating cookies.