Cue Passion and Life Experience

Nothing says happy holidays like an outdoor picnic.

Tonight was the James River Parade of Lights and the plan was to watch from Libbie Hill Park.

So, if the destination was to be Church Hill, here was my chance to check out Proper Pie Company.

Well, me and the thirty other people crowded in there in the last hour before they closed.

When I asked the girl at the counter if it was always so crazy, she smiled and said it was, from the time they opened until they locked the doors on the shop.

"We're on our feet six straight hours pretty much," she said, although not with the least bit of complaint in her voice.

We scored two savory pies- chicken and kumara and mushroom, spinach and bleu cheese - and an A & W root beer to go.

Over in Libbie Hill Park, we joined the throngs awaiting the parade by spreading a blanket on a crest of the hill and eating dinner with our hands (as per the Proper Pie instructions).

The crust was buttery and the flavor combinations of both pies well thought out.

People continued to arrive and claim spots while children played with the glo-sticks they were handing out.

Lots of dogs, an interactive dad in a Misfits shirt and a family doing their own Christmas carol singalaong provided entertainment.

Meanwhile, a fire for roasting (free) hot dogs roared nearby.

And while it got cool once the sun fully set, the air was unseasonably warm and soft for December.

A quintet settled near us on the grass and after positioning themselves, each pulled out their phone.

It was amusing to watch as they said not a word to each other, too intent on their virtual world to enjoy what was happening in front of them.

We joked that the only way they knew about the parade was because someone texted them about it.

Joking aside, it was kind of tragic.

Just before 6:00, the crowd began a countdown and all at once the elaborately decorated boats on the river in front of us lit up.

From our vantage point, we saw the slow procession head toward us before making a U-turn and heading downriver.

And while it was lovely to see, we concluded that we'd not picked the most optimum viewing site.

Next year: Osborne landing. Live and learn, I always say.

Saturday night music came courtesy of Balliceaux, where Mirror Kisses and Dead Fame were on the bill.

My date and I arrived early enough to score places on the back banquette, next to two metro-sexuals busy on their phones.

Which was a shame because the people watching was so good.

This was definitely a Saturday night crowd, full of impossibly high heels, high-maintenance haircuts and fitted jackets on the guys.

"Come on, girls, we're going out tonight," we imagined  one girl in a skintight, low-cut extremely short dress saying to her breasts as she got dressed.

A DJ friend had told me last night at G5 that he'd heard good things about Harrisonburg's Mirror Kisses and the clips I'd heard online sounded promising.

They were a young duo and the singer planted himself, not on the stage, but on the floor amongst the crowd.

All of us on the banquette rose to the back of it once music began, with the guy next to me saying, "This is the best seat in the house," a fact of which I told him I'm well aware since it's my go-to choice in that room.

From the first notes, the singer was jumping, punching the air and emoting mightily mere inches from the audience.

The influences were obviously the '80s but the lyrics were of the very young man variety.

After a song with repeated references to, "I feel you touching me," he said, "I wrote that song for my Mom."

No judging here.

After the third song, the guy standing next to me sat back down, observing to his buddy, "It's not bad. It's just not great."

My date reached a slightly different conclusion. "It's so bad, it's good. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the sheer spectacle of it."

I think everyone was for varying reasons.

Mid-set, a friend rushed back to me, grinning ear to ear. "It's like a bad '80s movie, only he wasn't even born yet!"

But the singer was working hard to pull the crowd in, eventually challenging them.

"You think I look dumb up here, but I think you look dumb just standing there!" he exhorted. "Why don't you just act like it's a dance party and dance? The girls know what I'm talking about!"

It paid to chastise, because far more people were dancing for the last couple of songs as the singer fist-pumped and sang for all he was worth.

"Nobody knows the pain I'm in," he belted during the last song.

"All passion, no life experience," I heard someone say about the lyrics.

Ah, tortured youth.

The headliner was Dead Fame, they of the 21st century take on Joy Division, right down to the lead singer having done his homework to emulate Ian Curtis' every move onstage.

Silhouetted against a dark haze, he was a study in posturing, posing and gesturing while singing.

And with scene hair that good, why not?

My main complaint was how difficult it was to hear the guitar, which disappeared under the synth and drums.

It was the same the last time I saw them in May and I keep hoping the guitar will get a fair shot next time I hear them.

There had been a buzz before they began with many people there to see them for the first time and, while they weren't dancing along, the audience was clearly into the band.

The lead singer did a little teasing of the audience, saying, "Do you like my chains? You can chain me up. For a price, of course."

For that matter, you can chain me up for a price, too.

He definitely had a sense of humor, observing mid-song, "This is a Dead Fame love song."

Because, you know it's hard to spot a love song beneath all the brooding lyrics and lasers.

At one point, a friend walked by and grinned, saying, "I think we're gonna be blind after all this laser."

Actually, I was enjoying my standing position in the back because I was a prime central spot for the green laser to use my body as a canvas throughout the set.

And if you're going to spend your Saturday night listening to young bands ape the music you already lived through, there must be lasers.

And, for a price, chains.