Across the Universe

A friend recently called me a hedonist.

Giving credence to his theory, I sold out history and literature for wine and conversation.

My intention was to go to the Library of Virginia to hear Dr. Barbara Perry talk about her new book, "Rose Kennedy: The Life and Times of a Political Matriarch."

And wouldn't you just know that as I was getting dressed for that, an e-mail came in asking if I was free for cocktail hour?

Call me what I am, a sell-out.

Off to Lemaire I went for Renoto Feudo Maccari Nero d'Alva and Syrah, a full-bodied wine with a hint of smoke but I at least made it clear to my friend that I had limited time.

I was going to fit in some culture tonight, come hell or high water.

Before long, we had a third join us and because they're both in the business, most of the talk centered around restaurants.

Who's selling what (and why!), stations versus pooling tips (they hadn't seen the NYT article), and the food truck craze.

We ordered sustenance - fried barcat oysters, pimento cheese and tuna tartare- but before I got three bites in, it was time for me to go.

Destination: an art lecture at University of Richmond.

Curator Phyllis Wrynn was giving a talk about "Leon Bibel: Art, Activism and the WPA," the new exhibit that just opened.

I don't know about you, but the WPA fascinates me.

The idea of government stepping in to keep the creative class employed during tough economic times seems as relevant today as it was during the Great Depression.

Wrynn's a New Yorker, so her talk was given at New Yorker speed (fine by me) as she flipped through a presentation of everything from Bibel's work to the Daily Show to a "Metropolis" clip.

The show's themes of racism, unemployment, social injustice, poverty and war could have been taken from today's headlines.

I was particularly struck by her comparison of the Renaissance and the WPA era; both periods represented a spectacularly comprehensive sponsorship of the arts by a governing body.

Oh, if only such a thing were possible today.

Walking through the exhibit, it's impressive how many formats Bibel used, everything from silk-screening (previously only used for posters and advertising), lithography and dry point to watercolor and oils.

And all of them with a message.

By the time I left campus, my brain felt sufficiently fed to allow for more debauchery, so I stopped at Secco for a bite.

The tables were mostly full but there was a lone seat at the bar (hello, beautiful) and the servers and I concluded that it may have been due to Carytown restaurant week, in which they were not participating.

Keeping my Sicilian theme going, I ordered a glass of Fondo Antico "Aprile," a refreshing Rose (if not now, when?) bursting with cherry flavors and got a thumbs up from my server.

The music, as always, was loud enough and appealingly chosen, if a little surprising to hear the Beatles in between the Arcade Fire and Franz Ferdinand.

Not long after I sat down, the couples on both sides of me decided to leave and, I swear, it wasn't two minutes before all four seats were again occupied.

Before I could look for company, though, I had to order, choosing fettucini with rock shrimp, rapini, espelette butter and topped by a fried egg.

When it arrived, the woman sitting next to me took one look at it, laid her menu down and told the server, "I'll have what she has."

It was my "When Harry Met Sally" moment, but without the moaning.

She made a good call because the red chili pepper in the sauce was an inspired choice to update a rich, buttery pasta dish.

The couple on the other side shared that they'd been to the Daily and had been underwhelmed, both by the food and the crowd.

"It'll be interesting to see how it holds up once they're not the new kid on the block," she sniffed. Won't it?

Not that I needed more food, but Chef Mike had come up with a new dish (it was right there on Facebook), so I had to get it.

Paired with a half glass of Bauer Riesling, the seared scallops with parsnip puree, Tuscan kale and pickled mushrooms and cashews was as decadent as my last dish and every bit as delightfully unique.

Fortunately, since I had no capacity to move, that's when a nearby bar sitter began a travel discussion with me, telling me about her escapades in Florence and wanting to hear mine.

Seems she'd gone with a group of twelve and by the fourth day was tired of their company.

She was especially disdainful of those who couldn't get their bearings.

You've got the river here and the cathedral there so you're never really lost, she'd told them.

Right she was, since that's exactly how I'd oriented myself while there. It's not rocket science, kids.

Conveniently, that was the day she met two charming Australians and decided to spend the next 36 hours seeing the city with them.

From what I was told, they were far better company than the group had been.

And I thought I'd had a great time in Florence.

Well, I had, but I'm also a hedonist, so I pretty much have a great time whatever I do, whomever I'm with.

They don't even have to be Australian...and in most cases, one will do.