"I promised to hold the show for you but I didn't promise not to embarrass you."
~ Chris Edwards
I arrived at the Listening Room late, at 7:55, but once again my parking spot was suspect. So, I ran back out to move my car just in case. I returned to the opening remarks by MC Chris, in which he was saying. "And we can begin now because Karen is here." It was after 8:00. Mortifying.
But the music, as always, was terrific. Exebelle and the Rusted Cavalcade were on first and I was happy to see Ben Wilson on keyboards. Ben, formerly of We Know, Plato! is a long-time favorite of mine for his thoughtful lyrics, excellent voice and talented keyboard playing.
E&TRC was unique in that all four members wrote songs and all four sang. We listened to a song by each (Ben introduced his as, "Spilt Coffee, semi-colon, the end" and naturally, I'm a fan of punctuation geeks). Their alt-country sound with banjo, upright bass, mandolin and pedal steel was a pleasure to listen to and I'm not usually a country music fan.
Favorite lyric: Every now and then the craving comes in, The door I thought I had locked. Runner up: My heart needs a slow dance. Any kind of romance. Leave it to country music.
Bluegrass followed in the form of River City Band, a group described as "bluegrass done right," an apt description of this multi-talented group They focused tonight on original material, something they said they don't often get to do. We did hear some traditional songs (Handsome Molly) and a Jonathan Vassar-penned tune as well.
Favorite lyric: Stand up straight, Put a hop in my step, I'm on my way, But I'm not there yet (from Taking a Break from the Blues). These guys are not to be missed.
The Happy Lucky Combo began by describing themselves as a combination tango, klezmer and zydeco group, something between Middle Eastern music and the blues. Then they proceeded to impress.
Their eclectic sound used electric upright bass (even bowed occasionally), accordion and drums. Cotton Pickin' Bulgar was a song about a broken heart, but not written from the view of the breaker or breakee, but instead from that of the friend helping the breakee.
A standout was Zydeco Samba ("Not really zydeco or a samba," we were told) with drummer Pippin Barnett playing a mean and non-stop triangle. It made the song. They finished with a polka because, they said, they didn't know any Hendrix.
And not once did the lights fall.
I then grabbed the friend who had helped me as a breakee and we went to Rosie Connelly's to talk madly after so much intent listening.
This was after she had passed me a note during the show saying "Do you want to be friends? Check One. Yes No Fuck Off." I laughed so hard and had to be silent about it that I almost stopped breathing.
Now that's a friend.
Showing posts with label rosie connelly's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rosie connelly's. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Drinking to My Health
You'd think that a person going to the screening of a documentary called Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead would have the sense not to get buttered popcorn to scarf down while being educated and entertained. But not me and I didn't even feel too badly about it because I wasn't the only one.
Joe Cross' first moviemaking endeavor revolved around his quest to lose weight and get healthy after years of getting heavier and sicker. The Australian decided to challenge himself by accomplishing this in the land of plenty, namely NYC for a month followed a by a month-long cross-country trip. All in full view of a film crew so he couldn't cheat.
With the approval of his physician, he set out to do a two-month juice diet and see if he could go off the meds that were barely keeping his medical conditions in check.
Along the way he interviewed scores of Americans about their health and obesity (to a man/woman, they blamed only themselves), occasionally inspiring others to try what was working so well for him.
The film had plenty of humor, from one fat sibling nonchalantly judging his fat brother ("He needs to do something.") to a friend of Joe's stating that his "weight had fluctuated up and down like a broad's nightie." Said in a thick Australian accent, that was a big laugh-getter.
Australia was also nicely represented in the music choices, which included INXS and Men at Work, as well as the scenic locations where Cross jogged.
One of the people inspired by Joe's efforts was a truck driver from Iowa who weighed 429 pounds and had the same auto-immune disease that Joe had suffered from before his weight loss. He was willing to try a plant-based liquid diet out of fear he would soon die otherwise.
Phil's story became the emotional heart of the film and by the time he was finally able to jog and play ball with his son towards the end, the audience was cheering and clapping for him and his determination.
Whole Foods was sponsoring the screening at the Byrd and Joe Cross took questions afterwards from a seriously interested audience. Cross' Australian accent was thick at times, but the difference in how he'd first appeared in the movie at 310 pounds and now was dramatic. He'd looked much older fat and much younger these three years later after losing ninety pounds.
The film won't be released in the U.S. until next March, so tonight's preview was yet another example of RVA scoring an event that many cities won't get, definitely our gain.
The takeaway was that since 70% of the negative health and body effects we experience are caused by lifestyle issues, everyone has the ability to make better choices and live longer and healthier if they so choose.
I did take that message to heart, really I did, but I also stopped off for a drink at Rosie Connelly's on the way home to think about how I can possibly incorporate more micro-nutrients (fruits and veggies) into my diet. And I wasn't nearly as bad as I could have been.
As the bartender smilingly reminded me when she served me, "At least you don't have anyone trying to force tequilas on you tonight," a reference to one of my recent visits where a close-talking regular was determined to buy me drinks I didn't want.
Come to think of it, though, tequila is plant-based. But no, probably not what Joe had in mind.
Joe Cross' first moviemaking endeavor revolved around his quest to lose weight and get healthy after years of getting heavier and sicker. The Australian decided to challenge himself by accomplishing this in the land of plenty, namely NYC for a month followed a by a month-long cross-country trip. All in full view of a film crew so he couldn't cheat.
With the approval of his physician, he set out to do a two-month juice diet and see if he could go off the meds that were barely keeping his medical conditions in check.
Along the way he interviewed scores of Americans about their health and obesity (to a man/woman, they blamed only themselves), occasionally inspiring others to try what was working so well for him.
The film had plenty of humor, from one fat sibling nonchalantly judging his fat brother ("He needs to do something.") to a friend of Joe's stating that his "weight had fluctuated up and down like a broad's nightie." Said in a thick Australian accent, that was a big laugh-getter.
Australia was also nicely represented in the music choices, which included INXS and Men at Work, as well as the scenic locations where Cross jogged.
One of the people inspired by Joe's efforts was a truck driver from Iowa who weighed 429 pounds and had the same auto-immune disease that Joe had suffered from before his weight loss. He was willing to try a plant-based liquid diet out of fear he would soon die otherwise.
Phil's story became the emotional heart of the film and by the time he was finally able to jog and play ball with his son towards the end, the audience was cheering and clapping for him and his determination.
Whole Foods was sponsoring the screening at the Byrd and Joe Cross took questions afterwards from a seriously interested audience. Cross' Australian accent was thick at times, but the difference in how he'd first appeared in the movie at 310 pounds and now was dramatic. He'd looked much older fat and much younger these three years later after losing ninety pounds.
The film won't be released in the U.S. until next March, so tonight's preview was yet another example of RVA scoring an event that many cities won't get, definitely our gain.
The takeaway was that since 70% of the negative health and body effects we experience are caused by lifestyle issues, everyone has the ability to make better choices and live longer and healthier if they so choose.
I did take that message to heart, really I did, but I also stopped off for a drink at Rosie Connelly's on the way home to think about how I can possibly incorporate more micro-nutrients (fruits and veggies) into my diet. And I wasn't nearly as bad as I could have been.
As the bartender smilingly reminded me when she served me, "At least you don't have anyone trying to force tequilas on you tonight," a reference to one of my recent visits where a close-talking regular was determined to buy me drinks I didn't want.
Come to think of it, though, tequila is plant-based. But no, probably not what Joe had in mind.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Keep Your Fantasy to Yourself
For the second time in three days, a stranger picked up my left hand looking for a ring. Twice tonight I was told that I'd make a great PR person, once by a musician and once by a restaurateur. I met a guy originally from Philly who wanted to tell me his chopsticks fantasy (he had a pair in hand) and asked if I had ever been involved with an Asian man (he was not Asian). Just another night out and about in the city.
Still battling the testosterone overload of the weekend, I'd made plans with a girlfriend to eat at Sprout and stay for music. Instead of the chalkboard menu, though, we were presented with old album covers, the folder type, with Sprout's local purveyors listed on one side and the menu on the facing side.
I love the idea of seeing the Virginia suppliers acknowledged; I'd recently seen the same thing on the Ashby Inn's menu. And in one of those odd coincidences, my album cover was Judith by Judy Collins, significant because I'm in the process of reading her autobiography at the moment. What are the chances?
My friend was bowled over by the menu, being a Sprout virgin and mistakenly expecting a limited menu. We couldn't resist starting with the Sprout cheese hushpuppies with spicy ailoi. It's hard not to love perfectly fried dough and we made short work of them. As we munched, the lead drummer stopped by to talk to us. He asked why I was there and I said, "for the music," to which he replied, "I love this woman." He was also the first to suggest I'd make a great PR person.
My friend was sucked in by the roasted corn Cobb salad with bright red tomatoes, egg, bacon, chicken, corn (duh), cheese and the most amazing tasting polenta squares. She said it was one of the best salads she's ever had. Of particular note were the especially fresh-tasting greens, but the whole thing was a study in summer flavors.
I went with the Sprout sliders made of Polyface Farms free range beef, again with the fresh greens and aioli and tasting like beef should, fresh and pure. We both commented on what a difference there is in the taste of beef raised right. I gave her one and I scarfed down the other three. Had we not both been so full at that point, we'd have ordered another course just to taste more of Sprout's local goodness.
Shortly thereafter, the five-piece Alkebalan Percussion Ensemble started playing, filling the room with the sounds of African instruments. The music was both simple and complex, all based on traditional African rhythms and music. For a musical no-nothing like myself, it was fun just to keep up with where all the various sounds were coming from. If it could be struck and make a melodic sound, it was. At one point, the audience was even asked to provide some vocal enhancement; I did my best, which is not saying much.
It was my second live music show at Spout and it won't be my last. The space has great acoustics and its laid back vibe is ideal for a casual evening of local talent. I applaud Sprout for offering free shows on a regular basis. Great food and live music is an unbeatable combination.
Afterwards, we went down to the Bottom to enjoy cocktails at Rosie O'Connelly's. When my friend had heard that I'd been there last week, she'd remarked that, "I love that bar!" We found two tucked away stools and started doing the girl talk thing in earnest.
Two drinks in, we decided to move to the patio but I'd left my bag inside, mistakenly assuming we'd go back in. Later, on a trip to the ladies' room, I stopped to grab my bag, but our stools had been overtaken by a large group. It was there that the guy with the chopsticks and the fantasy, the one who checked my hand for signs of possession, saw me and struck up that odd conversation. Who leads with fantasies?
Safely back outside, the large group soon left for Havana, asking us to join them there as they walked by. Not 15 minutes later, Philly showed up with two roses, hoping to entice us to join them next door. He promised to elaborate on the fantasy if I came over. My friend and I discussed this unusual method of making a move and decided it wasn't for us. Our roses stayed with the bartender.
Where the chopsticks end up, I don't really need to know.
Still battling the testosterone overload of the weekend, I'd made plans with a girlfriend to eat at Sprout and stay for music. Instead of the chalkboard menu, though, we were presented with old album covers, the folder type, with Sprout's local purveyors listed on one side and the menu on the facing side.
I love the idea of seeing the Virginia suppliers acknowledged; I'd recently seen the same thing on the Ashby Inn's menu. And in one of those odd coincidences, my album cover was Judith by Judy Collins, significant because I'm in the process of reading her autobiography at the moment. What are the chances?
My friend was bowled over by the menu, being a Sprout virgin and mistakenly expecting a limited menu. We couldn't resist starting with the Sprout cheese hushpuppies with spicy ailoi. It's hard not to love perfectly fried dough and we made short work of them. As we munched, the lead drummer stopped by to talk to us. He asked why I was there and I said, "for the music," to which he replied, "I love this woman." He was also the first to suggest I'd make a great PR person.
My friend was sucked in by the roasted corn Cobb salad with bright red tomatoes, egg, bacon, chicken, corn (duh), cheese and the most amazing tasting polenta squares. She said it was one of the best salads she's ever had. Of particular note were the especially fresh-tasting greens, but the whole thing was a study in summer flavors.
I went with the Sprout sliders made of Polyface Farms free range beef, again with the fresh greens and aioli and tasting like beef should, fresh and pure. We both commented on what a difference there is in the taste of beef raised right. I gave her one and I scarfed down the other three. Had we not both been so full at that point, we'd have ordered another course just to taste more of Sprout's local goodness.
Shortly thereafter, the five-piece Alkebalan Percussion Ensemble started playing, filling the room with the sounds of African instruments. The music was both simple and complex, all based on traditional African rhythms and music. For a musical no-nothing like myself, it was fun just to keep up with where all the various sounds were coming from. If it could be struck and make a melodic sound, it was. At one point, the audience was even asked to provide some vocal enhancement; I did my best, which is not saying much.
It was my second live music show at Spout and it won't be my last. The space has great acoustics and its laid back vibe is ideal for a casual evening of local talent. I applaud Sprout for offering free shows on a regular basis. Great food and live music is an unbeatable combination.
Afterwards, we went down to the Bottom to enjoy cocktails at Rosie O'Connelly's. When my friend had heard that I'd been there last week, she'd remarked that, "I love that bar!" We found two tucked away stools and started doing the girl talk thing in earnest.
Two drinks in, we decided to move to the patio but I'd left my bag inside, mistakenly assuming we'd go back in. Later, on a trip to the ladies' room, I stopped to grab my bag, but our stools had been overtaken by a large group. It was there that the guy with the chopsticks and the fantasy, the one who checked my hand for signs of possession, saw me and struck up that odd conversation. Who leads with fantasies?
Safely back outside, the large group soon left for Havana, asking us to join them there as they walked by. Not 15 minutes later, Philly showed up with two roses, hoping to entice us to join them next door. He promised to elaborate on the fantasy if I came over. My friend and I discussed this unusual method of making a move and decided it wasn't for us. Our roses stayed with the bartender.
Where the chopsticks end up, I don't really need to know.
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