Living the Life, er, Dream

Best kind of day to hang around and goof off: a rainy day like today.

In fact, I could have happily stayed home after my walk, but of course I didn't.

No, I went back to see "Spring Awakening" for the second time. And once again, I saw it from a stage seat.

And the best reason to see it a mere three weeks after I last saw it?

I mean, besides the five dollar ticket?

To sit on the opposite side of the stage from last time and notice things I hadn't when I was experiencing the story for the first time.

Like how when the boys in the cast are onstage singing "The Bitch of Living" I could see some of the girls in the cast just offstage dancing with abandon.

From my new vantage point, I could see the band, too, like when the guitarist switched from an electric to an acoustic guitar in full view of me.

Or when I could see the music director, her back to the band and facing the cast onstage, keeping tempo enthusiastically during "Totally F**ked."

But probably the best reason for sitting on the left side of the stage was the up close and personal view of the hilarious masturbation scene.

I'll tell you what, it's moments like that that make lifelong theater fans.

By the time the matinee let out, we were overdue to eat so we headed to Lunch.

It was an ideal time: after the lunch crowd and before the dinner crowd.

Even better, their happy hour runs every day of the week, so our Martin Codax Albarino was a mere $3.50 a glass.

Hello hay and honeysuckle on the cheap.

The River City Smokehouse and the Fay (house made chicken salad on multi-grain) preceded the very berry pound cake with mixed berries and whipped cream.

Best part of the meal: the pulled pork with coleslaw on a bun.

Our soundtrack was pure '60s Motown ("Baby Love," "Ain't No Woman") and while it was suggested I dance, I didn't.

I did, however, compliment our server on her beautiful breasts and she thanked me, saying, "That means so much more coming from a woman instead of a man. Like a woman telling you how good your make-up looks."

Actually her make-up looked great, too, but I didn't want to push my luck.

The best reason to finish up at Gallery 5 for the Commonwealth of Notions show was to benefit WRIR and Gallery 5.

WRIR DJ Shannon Cleary had assembled a stellar cast of bands for our philanthropic dollar.

Best reason to get to a show on time: so you don't miss anything you'd love to have heard.

I missed Snowy Owls' set and they not only played a new song but covered a White Laces song.

Damn, I could have smacked myself for missing out on those.

Best substitute for what I missed: catching the end of White Laces' incredibly tight set from the ticket desk.

Best surround sound set: Colloquial Orchestra's dynamic smorgasbord of eight musicians placed around the room and following the lead of the amazingly talented Dave Watkins on electric dulcitar.

The 27-minute improvised piece featured some of my favorite people, including Adam of Marionette, Matt of Snowy Owls and PJ, a guy who changes from mild-mannered photographer to a beast of a guitar god when he has an instrument in his hand.

Also of note was Brandon, who entered the fray late in the game, setting up a drum and taking over percussion duties impressively a bit after the set had begun.

Best act to overcome technical difficulties: Swordplay.

Isaac's rapping over vinyl is always a testament to his lyrical skills, but tonight he had so much snap, crackle and pop that he finally gave up using the mic and just sang a capella.

Later he told me that he felt like the sound problems were smacking him in the face, fighting him even.

To his credit, he fought back and won.

Best instinctive crowd direction: when the Low Branches' Christina opened her mouth to sing, what sounded like a half dozen people immediately shushed the crowd.

And they stayed quiet for the most part, even (or especially) when she covered the Boss.

For that matter, her comment, "We're the Low Branches and we're living the life. Er, dream. This is why we don't do stage talk," had the crowd, and even fellow bandmate Matt, cracking up.

Best multi-tasking by one musician in three bands: Matt, who played in Snowy Owls, Colloquial Orchestra and The Low Branches.

I don't know how my favorite fuzz-master even had time to do a shot of whiskey.

Best way to get a crowd dancing: having Bermuda Triangles play on the floor in front of the stage.

Their tribal drumming and wailing sax sound immediately got everyone moving and eventually there was full-on dancing going on as people lost their inhibitions and let the music take them away.

Best seamless transition: during Bermuda Triangles' last song, the final band, Canary, oh, Canary, took the stage.

Drummer Mark jumped into the drumming fray, playing along with  the Triangles  while CoC's guitarist and bass player held their instruments but stayed silent.

After Triangles' last note, they were thanked and Canary, oh, Canary began their set.

Theirs are some of my favorite bass lines.

Later in their set, guitarist Micheal announced, "Mark has broken his snare. Any drummer out there have a spare he can borrow?"

Not surprisingly, the show went on given the number of instruments in the room.

It was exceeded only by the number of musicians in the room.

Which made Gallery 5 the best possible place to spend my Saturday night.

And, just for the record, the light rain falling when I left made for the best possible walk home.

Haunted By the Legs of a Woman

"Are you here to audition?"

As if.

Not unless you have to audition to be an audience member, I told the woman at the table with the clipboard.

Actually I was there to get on-stage seats for "Spring Awakening" at the Empire Theater, four blocks from my house.

Once I'd learned that there were a dozen seats available up close and personal with the cast, I was determined to plant myself in one of them.

Well, that and the fact that stage seats are $5 and regular seats are $44, well out of the range of this poor writer's pocketbook.

We were escorted to our seats by the House Manager who instructed us to sit in any seats except those that had drawers on the back.

It wasn't long before two cast members took the seats with drawers next to us and the play was off and running.

What I hadn't realized was that the cast members next to me were going to be singing from where they were,

Sometimes sitting ("Mama Who Bore Me"), sometimes standing on their chairs ("The Bitch of Living"), they were performing inches away.

It may have been the coolest theater experience I've ever had.

And just for the record, while the on-stage seats were not as comfy as the regular theater seats, they were located directly under the box seats, always the priciest seats in the house, so the view was spectacular.

Frankly, for a play dealing with child abuse, masturbation, abortion, suicide and sexual abuse (not to mention a bare male butt), I want a good view.

Of course I was going to love a musical with an alternative music score by singer/songwriter Duncan Sheik, but I was equally as enthralled with having a band (guitars, bass, drums, cello, violin, viola, keys) accompany that music rather than an orchestra.

The story of hormone-driven teenagers ("Why am I haunted by the legs of a woman?") living in repressed 1890s Germany (but one with neon shoelaces, wildly gelled hair and jeweled sandals) took its spark from the energetic young cast, many of whom couldn't legally buy a drink during intermission.

But wow, could they ever dance and sing. And they nailed teen angst magnificently.

From "My Junk" to "Totally F**ked" and whether they were laying on stage singing to the rafters or pulling a mic out of their pockets to sing rock star-style, you really couldn't take your eyes off of them.

During the ensemble numbers, the actors were literally a couple of feet from my face.

I don't want to brag, but I could see them spit. And, yes, I like that.

And John Mincks, your ability to spring from stage to mid-air (mid-note) was nothing short of breathtaking from where I sat.

During intermission, I heard a woman tell someone that she'd seen "Spring Awakening" at a Broadway matinee a few years back and had been so impressed by it that she'd gone back that same night to see it again.

Pshaw. I'd realized that I would do the same before the first act was even over.

And at five dollars a pop, I can easily afford to see it again.

Fortunately, I think I passed the audition to be a stage-sitting audience member.

Pardon my enthusiasm, Virginia Rep, but there's nothing quite like the view from the cheap seats.

Broad Appetit ISO Virginia Dionysus

Okay, so Broad Appetit.

The good: it brings people to Jackson Ward (not so scary in the daylight, is it, people?), it allows people who dine out infrequently to try restaurants they haven't (on the cheap - $3 a pop) and it's a unique way to eat lunch.

The bad: street stands offering fair fare (cheese fries, really?), not enough room for the lines (would one or two more blocks of Broad kill city officials on a Sunday afternoon?) and the absence of any wineries worth tasting.

For me, being two blocks from the event, there are no parking hassles and I can be there when it opens and is still civilized.

And even if I go alone, which I did, I'm guaranteed to know people.

From the second I got close to Broad Street, I ran into friend after friend.

The boutique owner doing her first Broad Appetit. The man about town in a seersucker suit. The frustrated restaurateur's wife. The favorite couple with their Broad Appetit game plan printed out on multiple sheets of paper.

I spent the first hour with a teenager who shares my love of eating everything odd.

I talked her into trying blowtoads for the first time ("Mmm, fish tail!" she crowed) and she bought me apple cinnamon churros in caramel sauce in return.

An early stop was Bistro 27's table for Moroccan lamb meatballs and one of mixologist's Bobby Kruger's famous watermelon lemonade with a mint leaf smacked into it.

After two years of drinking it as I promenade through the event, I think it should be the official drink of Broad Appetit.

He and I placed bets on when he'd run out of the fifteen gallons he'd made.

I spent the second hour with a BA virgin, trying Magpie's goat curry for the first time and mozzarella ice cream with cherry tomatoes for the second.

At Lehja, we had the ginger curry leaf scented sea bass and the chickpea/potato dish.

I really must make the trek to Short Pump to enjoy Lehja's food to a larger extent.

Amour provided the last course, divine chicken liver mousse with bacon and chive in puff pastry.

We stopped in the Empire Theater for the open rehearsal of "Spring Awakening," a Tony award-winning play I am eager to have open in Richmond.

Let's shock the bluehairs, shall we?

Back on the street, we opted out of the madding crowds and took Marshall Street home, still hearing the bands playing and dodging suburbanites looking for parking spaces in what they no doubt consider "the hood."

The conclusion: I love having so many visitors here in my beautiful, historic neighborhood. It's fun to get to eat from so many different restaurants in one day.

But why in the world can't we make Virginia wineries a viable part of Broad Appetit? Virginia beers were certainly well represented.

Broad Appetit, you're on the right track, but you're not there yet.

You've got a year to get it right. Let me know if you need some suggestions.

As an upstanding local citizen, I'm always eager to help improve things in the 'hood.

Here's to number six, Broad Appetit!