Begin My Blisteringly Fast Romantic Period

It was my last time subbing for Mom and I knew it.

That is, my last couple date for the symphony because my friend's Mom (whose ticket I was using) will soon be back in town and she'll be wanting to go to the rest of the season with her son and his girlfriend.

So she'll be the one meeting them for dinner beforehand.

For our last symphony date, I chose Chez Foushee for dinner and was rewarded with a window table right over the heat vent.

Our server kept asking if it was getting too warm but after the bitter cold and driving wind outside, I thought it felt divine.

In my perfect world, there's always a heat vent under the table.

Considering we'd walked in without a reservation and every table was taken except the one we got for which they'd just moments before had a cancellation, we were pretty damn lucky.

We began with a bottle of Mont Marcal Cava because it's always a party when the three of us get together.

Given the chill factor, I began with a zesty tomato soup as creamy as a bisque and with spiced croutons floating on top.

I decided that the perfect accompaniment was the Comte "grilled cheese" with wild mushrooms and beef marrow.

The earthy mushrooms and marrow atop thick-slices of bread and smothered in the slightly sweet and oh-so strong Gruyere-like cheese, made for the most adult of grilled cheeses.

My friend's girlfriend, born and raised in the Museum District, had fond memories of the space, recalling when it housed her hairdresser's salon.

"The shampoo station used to be right over there," she said pointing to the side. She's always a treasure trove of tidbits about RVA before I got here.

We didn't have time for dessert, so we left craving it and heading to CenterStage.

Tonight's program went something like this: minimalist, romantic, romantic.

Naturally the minimalist was the American and the romantics the Europeans.

"The Chairman Dances" by John Adams and written in 1985 was conceived of as a prelude to the opera "Nixon in China."

No, really.

Not surprisingly, it had a soundtrack feel to it, but I found plenty to like in the twelve-minute piece.

Mendelssohn's "Die Erste Walpurgisnacht" offered up three soloists and the Richmond Symphony Chorus for a dramatic piece about druids and Christians and fairies and sacrifices.

You know, the usual things poets write about.

My friend Homes, ever the musician, observed afterwards, "You don't often get to see that many down bows in one piece."

I'm sure that's true and I'm equally sure I'd never have noticed.

After intermission and a spirited discussion of dessert options, we got to the main event, Beethoven's "Seventh Symphony."

Fast best describes the movements of the piece and the program even said some parts were "blisteringly so."

Watching my friend Matt Gold play double bass, I loved seeing his handsome head move with emphasis in the blistering parts.

I know for a fact what a fan of Romantic Period composers he is.

By mutual decision, we decided to stop at Pasture when we left the theater and score some long-awaited dessert.

Bellying up to the bar, we got a bottle of Ruffino Prosecco and a couple of chocolate candy bars, that fabulous dessert of chocolate that stops just short of fudge with hazelnut crunch, Nutella and chocolate that Pasture does so well.

I may have enjoyed it even more than usual given that there had been such a gap between my savory and sweet courses.

There's a lot to be said for anticipation.

By the same token, there's a lot to be said for blisteringly fast, at least when it comes to some things.

Like Beethoven. Or better yet, a romantic period.

Richmond: Not Rugged, but Sly

I'm scared of balls being thrown toward me and I have zero hand/eye coordination.

But, yes, that was me at today's Virginia Historical Society's Banner Lecture on "Facts and Legends of Sports in Richmond."

Honestly, it was the appeal of using a different lens to look at Richmond's history that got me there.

For all my historical geekiness, the closest I've come to exploring the past through sports was the Armstrong/Walker exhibit at the Black History Museum, here.

Today's illustrated lecture combined the writing talent of Brooks Smith (who does similar commentary on WCVE) and Wayne Dementi, the keeper of all old Richmond photographs.

His studio on Grace Street is a treasure trove for lovers of history and photography and I've found myself lost in there looking at this city's past through the lenses of long-dead shooters.

Using great imagery, the two men took turns sharing sports anecdotes about players, teams, venues and sports as they related to RVA.

Beginning with the 1968 Tuckahoe 12-year old baseball team that went to the Little League World Series in Osaka (they lost 1-0), I was surprised at how many in the audience remembered the event.

At a recent reunion of the team, one of the original players remarked, "How did we know when we were twelve years old that it would end up being the highlight of our lives?" Boy, is that a heavy statement.

We heard about quoits, the predecessor of horseshoes and the Quoits Club which was created on Buchanan's Farm, where VCU's campus stands today.

Apparently the PGA Championship was played at Hermitage Country Club with slammin' Sammy Snead winning the fabulous prize of $3500.

A writer at the time described the golf course as "Not rugged, but sly." Maybe that could be RVA's new slogan.

Baseball player Ray Dandridge grew up paying ball in the cornfields of Church Hill using a branch for a bat and cardboard and tape for a ball, an image I can't even summon.

Southside Speedway, which I know only for its "Go Fast, Turn Left" bike races, has hosted quite an array of famous NASCAR drivers, I discovered.

Billie Jean King played the first Virginia Slims Tennis Championship at Westwood Club in 1970 (sponsored by Philip-Morris, natch), making us the birthplace of the professional women's tour.

Pictures of the Tour de Trump (and later the Tour DuPont) with big name bicyclists  tearing through downtown Richmond in the late '80s and early '90s were as impressive for the spectator turnout as for the well-known names.

When Lance Armstrong was asked his thoughts on Taylor Hill after having to ascend it four times during the course of the race, he responded with, "Whew!"

You can't beat a bicyclist for a pithy quote.

And now that I've learned that we were home to the first recorded cricket game in the New World, I know you can't beat Richmond for its noble sports history.

So next time you go down Monument Avenue and see beer-swilling kids playing Bag-o in the grassy median, you'll know that they're really just descendants of the Buchanan Quoits Club.

Toss on, sports enthusiasts. Just please don't toss near me. I catch like a girl.