National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day

Love is dead. Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy announced their conscious uncoupling today.

Even an optimist like me has to have her faith in happily ever after shaken a bit by that. Who's next, Mom and Dad?

Setting aside personal concerns for the greater good,  I walked over to 1708 Gallery for tonight's talk and dinner on BridgePark. Although it hadn't been all that long since I'd attended a community conversation on BridgePark, tonight's was less a meeting and more of a social.

In other words, there was a cash bar.

More importantly to me, there was also a week-long exhibit devoted to a model, sketches, a film and enlarged photographs of the proposed BridgePark connecting the green spaces of the state capital to the river and Manchester.

The challenge was being able to see these ideas brought to the gallery's walls and floor space given the crush of warm bodies filling 1708. It wasn't the same crowd that had attended the last meeting in Manchester. No, this was a far artsier crowd and with drinks in hand, the feeling was more of one big cocktail party.

Not that there's anything wrong with an art meet and greet.

Gallerists and arty types abounded, along with young families, river devotees and BridgePark's growing following.

One large photo of the James at sunset made comparisons:
The Seine
The Arno
The James

Another showed two eagles facing off in mid-air. It read:
Food, Music. Fun.
And eagle battles.

After the crowd was nicely lubricated, organizer Ted got the crowd's attention - no easy task amid all the kvetching - and did a shorter presentation than the one I'd seen last.

He admitted to our collective love affair with the old train bridge piers in the river (we can't deny it). He spoke of making better use of an under-utilized bridge. To really grab the crowd, he showed a photo of the July 4th fireworks taken from the bridge.

When all of a sudden technology failed him and the images wouldn't move forward, a guy near me shouted out, "Kill the DJ!" I thought it was funny. Device again working, we finished the presentation with no further good-natured heckling.

Then and only then were people allowed to go through the food line, enjoying a repast curated by the Underground Kitchen, cooked by Chef Carly Herring with food supplied from Belmont Butchery, Renew Richmond, Shalom Farms and VSU with a charming row of vases holding mostly pink zinnias courtesy of Tricycle Gardens lining the center of the table.

Conveniently, I'd stationed myself near the food table for the presentation, so it wasn't far to be the second person in line (behind the tiny woman with the sleeping child in her arms). Beef vegetable soup, beautifully balanced kale salad with Feta and craisins in a honey dressing, a simply dressed tomato and onion salad that tasted like the tomatoes had been in the ground  this morning and the heel a loaf of Sub Rosa's brown bread filled up my plate.

We'd been told that the reason for the large communal table was so that we might sit next to a stranger (something I do on a fairly frequent basis, btw) and build community by discussing our impressions and hopes for BridgePark with others also interested in the project.

I sat down with empty chairs on either side of me.

Her backside had barely hit the chair when the woman next to me introduced herself and I recognized her as a rock climber who'd expressed concerns about losing the southside climbing wall in the plans for the park. She confirmed her love of climbing, informing me that we were one of the rare cities who had natural climbing places downtown.

We'd already heard from Ted that we were one of two state capitals with eagle habitats downtown. And don't get us started on our Class IV rapids downtown or we might go on for days.

Another woman sat down next to her, explaining that she was a lawyer who'd known Ted before he stopped lawyering to run the BridgePark non-profit. Next came a familiar face - a WRIR DJ who also plays around town as a DJ - across from me, but I couldn't very well send him on his way just because I knew him, could I? I spotted the Man About Town standing in the food line holding lemonade for a young damsel.

Carly's soup with Belmont Butchery's beef in the starring role was ridiculously appealing given that it was still 90+ degrees outside. Sub Rosa's bread soaked up every bit of broth. I chatted with my new friends about BridgePark's possibilities.

To accompany our meal, Rodney the Soul Singer crooned at the front of the room as the film showing the majesty of the James played behind us. Everywhere around me, people were busy eating and talking about the concept of a bridge park in Richmond.

They were putting on a good show, but I'm willing to bet that under those lively facades, their hearts were aching with the depressing news of Kermit and Piggy's breakup. What hope is there for the rest of us?

As far as moi is concerned, sometimes you just have to eat a chocolate chip/macadamia/coconut cookie and call it a day.