I Used My Best Phone Voice, Too

What better use of my unemployed time could I make than volunteering?

With that in mind, I spent 3 hours today at WRIR (93.1) as a phone volunteer for their fund drive. I'm pleased to say I took three pledges, 2 messages for the staff and l long-winded call from a woman wanting to know why her radio couldn't hold the signal for 105 point something.

I guess she thought all the radio stations are in cahoots and know what's up with each other...or something.

There were a couple other volunteers there when I arrived and, lo and behold, they were both unemployed too. One guy had just been laid off after 34 years with the same company. 34 years! He started that job part-time in high school! It's the only thing he's ever done and now he's got to find another job at 53. He wasn't optimistic but at least he had 6 months of severance pay to tide him over while he looks.

The other guy was 28 and desperately seeking work. Just while I was there, he filled out online applications for 3 different jobs. He said he always followed up submitting applications with calling the company. Daily. Finally one woman told him that she was tired of hearing his voice and not to call anymore.

Employment etiquette aside, I don't think he helped his job chances any.

While I was there, a former neighbor came in to make a pledge; turns out he's unemployed also. I was beginning to feel like I was in the Laid Off Twilight Zone, so it was particularly gratifying when a girl came in with her laptop to do some work for her part-time job. Finally! Someone in the room with gainful employment...maybe I should touch her for good luck?

What I learned today: Even in the tough times, people are still giving of their time and limited funds for the worthwhile causes.

And WRIR, you know, "radio for the rest of us," is surely that.

Oh, It Was Awkward

When I moved into this apartment last month, my next-door neighbor took the time to introduce himself. I've seen him dozens of times since and he always says hello; he seems like a nice guy, polite and not overly friendly.
Today I was getting out of my car just as he was and he smiled and said hi. But then he walked over and started stammering about something. I really had no idea where he was going with this conversation, so I tried to be low-key and just wait for him to get it out. Many verbal detours later, he said, "If my eyes wander too much when I speak to you, I apologize." Um, okay. Honestly, I hadn't noticed him gawking before and he was diplomatic enough to say that he was certain I got a lot of attention everywhere I went, but I found myself at a loss for how to wrap things up.
I decided to assure him that I hadn't noticed any inappropriate staring on his part (because I hadn't), thinking this was the easiest way for both of us to end this conversation. Except that his response was, "You mean I just humiliated myself for nothing?" Well, maybe.
My last try at a save was to tell him that I was just going to take it as a compliment and appreciate his honesty. ..and I assured him women like honesty. He seemed to be okay with that...still, I bet he beats himself up for even opening his mouth.

Note to Self: Don't Miss the Next One

I missed last month's live performance at Ipanema with Liza Kate, so I didn't want to miss this month's set by the Great White Jenkins. I appreciate that RVA News is recording the performance series and posting them online, but I still prefer seeing the bands live (call me old-school).

As it turned out, the band went through its set list and then informed us that they had to re-play the first three songs because they hadn't recorded properly. Ah, technical difficulties...in my former life doing video, I can recall several occasions when we had to sheepishly ask an interviewee if we could redo an interview because of technical issues. And while everyone always agreed nicely, it didn't make us feel any less inept. So I could completely relate to the situation last night...and didn't mind a repeat performance at all.

The crowd was small, maybe because the weekend weather had been so summer-like and everyone had worn themselves out by Sunday night, but it was definitely a bunch of music-lovers. It's hard not to appreciate Matt White's guitar talent, no matter what collection of musicians he plays with. And if you missed the show, it'll be up online at rvanews in a week or so.

And for anyone who appreciates Matt's long, luxurious hair, he claimed last night that he's about to cut it all off (of course, the facial hair stays), not because it's hot (although it's got to be) but because it's just time in the hair cycle. So he said.

A Day in the Life

Tuesday nights I usually eat at Six Burner because wine is half price by the glass (with lovely choices) and the food is always great. I had come from the Paul Mellon lecture sponsored by VMFA, "Sisley: The English Impressionist," which was an interesting enough topic. He's thought of as English because of his first name, Alfred, and because he always had British citizenship. It's just that he spent almost his entire life in France, including being born there. Not so English. The woman who sat next to me told her husband when he arrived that she sat next to me because I looked like a good talker. I'm okay with that.

When I got to Six Burner and sat at the end of the bar, a man shouted to me from a corner booth asking if I was the girl in the framed picture sitting on the bar (it was the upcoming jazz singer) . I wasn't, so he apologized profusely. While his dining partner was taking care of business, he came over to me and gave me a $20 bill as part of his apology. This stuff really happens?

Not 20 minutes later, a customer comes in and sits at the bar. The bartender says we're both regulars and introduces us. We're close in age and start chatting. A four hour conversation ensued with a stranger and I was told I was an excellent conversationalist. Such a compliment! I can't think of anything I'd rather be stereotyped as.

Today I actually heard back from a potential employer to whom I had sent my resume.She was telling me that I might be over-qualified for the position and she didn't want to waste my time or for me to get in there and be bored with what I’ve done in the past. But someone considered hiring me...if only briefly. And she's undoubtedly right.

And that's just the last 24 hours.

A Magical Night of Movies

My friend Jameson has taught me to appreciate the silent film, especially when accompanied by the right music. So naturally I had to see what the James River Film Festival was showing for its night of shorts called "Magic and the Movies."

They started with film pioneer Gerorges Melies' "Extraordinary Illusions" (1903) (so un-PC with its Asian stereotypes) and "Untameable Whiskers" (1904) which was especially cool to see since Melies himself was in it. It was a textbook lesson in the use of stop-motion throughout.

Segundo de Chomon's "Diablo Rojo/The Red Spetre" (1903) was worth seeing because it was all hand-colored, mostly red and gold/yellow and again featured stop-motion.

Ferdinand Zecca's "The Invisible Thief" (1909) got the audience laughing a lot and I would guess that in 1909 the main character turning invisible on screen must have seemed amazing to audiences.

Leger's "Ballet Mecanique" (1924) was familiar to me because Jameson had shown it at his Silent Music Revival a while back. It suffered in this showing, however, because it had no musical accompaniment and it cries out for one with all its mechanical and repetitive images.

Len Lye's "Rainbow Dance" (1936) was so colorful and bright and had the most appropriate upbeat music, but what I liked best was the way he slipped in sponsor messages, from a local bank and the post office...art and commerce blending, so to speak.

Norman Mclaren's "A Phantasy" (1952) was supposedly important because of the techniques (painting directly on film, pixilation, a synthetic soundtrack) but it left me cold and kind of bored.

Lotte Reiniger's "Snow White and Rose Red" (1953) was sweet and the first film of the night with narration. Her paper silhouettes in stop-motion effect was charming to watch but must have taken forever to create. And while I had a faint memory of this fairy tale, it was enjoyable to see the story unfold.

Only a few of the shorts had musical accompaniment, like Red Spectre and Rainbow Dance, but I'm inclined to think some of the others would have benefited with music. Or maybe that's just Jameson's influence after enjoying so many of his film choices with local musicians improvising a score as they watch the films. But in any case, it was a fascinating evening of film history and I was glad I didn't miss it.

A Lesson in Humility

Ironically, given my last post, I spent 3 hours today at the local Veterans Hospital with a good friend. He was scheduled to have s scan done there and invited me to join him for the period after he drank the barium and before he had the CT scan done.

In that chunk of time, I saw more people missing limbs and disfigured than I have seen in my entire life. it was humbling and inspirational at the same time and an excellent reminder that while my life may not be going ideally at the moment, I still have a lot to be thankful for.

My friend was diagnosed with cancer last year and given how far gone it was, had his bladder, colon and part of his stomach removed. He now wears a bag 24/7 to collect what his body cannot. Today's scan was to determine if the cancer has returned.

As we sat there chatting and enjoying each other's company, it hit home how little any of us know about what lies ahead for us. We've been friends since 1993 and have enjoyed many, many stellar conversations about just about everything, so I feel for the sacrifices he has had to make. On the other hand, he is still here, still my friend and still a most enjoyable person to spend time with and for that, I am grateful.

Inside the Body, Heart and Soul of a Hero

Opening night at the James River Film Fest featured "Body of War," a documentary about 25-year old Tomas Young, who was paralyzed from the chest down when he was shot by a sniper on his 5th day serving in Iraq, The film, directed by Richmonder Ellen Spiro, is an unsparing look at how this young man dealt with his disability, lack of rehabilitation and emerging anti-war feelings.

There were moments in the film that were excruciating to watch (his mom inserting a catheter on a road trip to say goodbye to his younger brother before he, too, is deployed), an anti-war march with hundreds of Gold Star Families carrying pictures of their lost sons and daughters (many wanting just to touch Tomas because he made it back and their child didn't) and Tomas having to take breaks while speaking because the pain overcomes him.

This film got made because Phil Donahue met Tomas, felt that his story had to be told and provided the funding to allow Spiro to shoot for nearly three years. Much changes in Tomas' life over that period and the audience is privy to a great deal of it.

It's hard to imagine a more powerful testament to one man's courage as he makes the journey from soldier to anti-war activist than this documentary. Occasional tears aside, it's the kind of film every American needs to see to be reminded of the human cost of an arrogant President's decision.

Look Me in the Eyes and Tell Me You're Satisfied

I don't usually make a point to see the big, mainstream movies, but "Adventureland" sucked me in because I kept reading about what a great 80s soundtrack it had. So, as someone with many great music memories from then, I spent part of today's cool, damp afternoon watching a sweet movie about a recent college graduate's summer working at an amusement park circa 1987.

And I'd have to say the soundtrack delivered admirably, from Crowded House ("Don't Dream, It's Over") to The Cure ("Just Like Heaven") to probably my favorite Replacements song ever, "Unsatisfied." But for those who lived through the 80s but whose taste went in a different direction, there was Shannon's "Let the Music Play," Expose's "Point of No Return" and "In My House" by the Mary Jane Girls. And, because of the plot line, The Velvet Underground and Lou Reed are well represented too.

All in all, what could have been a cliched coming of age movie with a hackneyed soundtrack was elevated to something far better with a story that's believable and music that sums up an excellent representation of the music of a decade...Whitesnake notwithstanding.

Nothing Like It in the World

It's a fairly well established fact that smell is a powerful memory-jogger and I've been reminded of that lately as spring has sprung and so much is starting to bloom. Growing up, we had a big lilac bush in our yard and that intoxicating lilac smell is what determined that they would become my favorite flower. I've never wavered in that conviction; just smelling them transports me back to that aching teenage feeling of waiting for love to happen and knowing that if something can smell as wonderful as lilacs do, anything is possible.

Lilacs are blooming in Richmond right now and I cut a huge bouquet yesterday, which I split between my living room and bedroom. The apartment is perfumed with them now and their scent keeps me in a constant state of awareness of that teenage feeling. I knew then that wonderful things were going to happen to me, romantic things that I couldn't even imagine then. And now, despite the recent upheaval in my love life, smelling this year's flowers is enough to convince me that my hopeless romanticism will again be rewarded. And until that happens, I have the lilacs to enjoy.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Hit the Road

Now that Richmond has a mid-sized venue of its own, I have far fewer reasons to drive to Washington, Norfolk or Charlottesville for shows as I've done for years. But every now and then a tour completely skips us and then I have to seek it out. Like last night's trip to D.A.R. Constitution Hall to see Death Cab for Cutie and RaRa Riot (and Cold War Kids, but they held no interest for me).

And much as I hate I-95, the schlep was well worth the traffic because it was an excellent show. RaRa Riot came on at 6:57 and played a stellar 30 minute set. I absolutely love what having a cello and violin brings to the sound of this Syracuse band. I hope to see them headline soon so I can enjoy a longer set.

What can you say about Death Cab? They've been together for 12 years now and they do what they do extremely well. And that's play melodic, melancholy songs about feeling both smart and confused, hopelessly romantic but wary of love (as Rolling Stone put it). It's the hopelessly romantic and smart part of their lyric-writing that grabs me every time , so I found it in contrast to Ben Gibbard's energetic singing and guitar playing. Never having seen the band before, I expected his performance to be far more low-key than it was. But in reality, he was sort of like the geeky guy who secretly wants to be an arena rock star but with that plaintive, yet evocative, voice.

The entire show was over by 10:30 (D.A.R. is so civilized like that) so we hit the road with the strains of DCFC still in our ears. This was a show well worth dealing with the soul-sucking I-95 for. And I mean that in the most sincere and hopelessly romantic way.

I Know That I'm Your Favorite

Neko Case is one of those artists with appeal to a widely varying audience. Last night's show at the National proved that, with everything from friends who had never been to the venue before(how is that possible? I feel like it's my second home) to friends whom I'd seen there at the Mates of State/Black Kids show just last week.

Perhaps it's her amazing voice that draws from so many kinds of music lovers; certainly there's no denying that a large part of the male portion of the audience lust after her. She rewarded them with near-constant rearranging of her hair, putting it up and letting it down in turn. No question, she gives red hair a good name.

Crooked Fingers opened the show and delivered an excellent set, no doubt winning over those who profess not to like folk-tinged indie rock. Their performance demonstrated why Neko herself is a fan, having done a guest vocal on their latest CD.

While the show didn't sell out, it had to have come close, with everyone standing shoulder to shoulder. Luckily, Neko's fans are, for the most part, a civilized bunch, so the large crowd size was not a negative factor.

And perhaps most impressively, Neko forbade cameras of any kind, which meant no one was allowed to use their cell phones during her show. I'm sure plenty of people were going through withdrawal, but for some of us, it was a happy night. Security people warned the crowd ahead of time that phones would be confiscated if used. That's the world I want to live in all the time.

And kudos to Neko Case for making it happen, all the while serenading us with that magnificent voice. It was another good night at the National.

Poetry and Politics

At last night's Poetic Principles reading at the Virginia Museum, the audience was treated to the pleasure of hearing Peter Orner read.

Orner is a Chicago native who grew up in a politically-inclined family.

Naturally, this turned him off to politics for many years, until he realized that Chicago politics, in particular, was some pretty interesting stuff.

His political poems commented on the state of the city's politicians, while offering insight into the peculiar nature of these people, good and bad.

Orner's perspective is unique; he got a law degree, tried one case and lost and decided to go back to what he knew: writing.

Which is fortunate for those of us who are readers and listeners, as the small group last night sat enthralled to the man's voice and words.

When everything in your life is a wreck, poetry can make it all feel better.

That's poetic principle number one.

I;m still trying to figure out what the others are. Give me time...and a whole lot more poetry.

Real Wine on a Sunday Afternoon

How better to start the week than with wine?

River City Cellars' latest offering was a Sunday class in Natural Wine, which translates to biodynamic and organic wines, with an emphasis on sustainability.

Most of the wine producers we tasted are small producers: 1000 to 4000 bottles a year.

We were told that using these viticulture methods produced wines with either Flaws (if you listen to the wine critics) or Personalty (if you listen to wine lovers).

Naturally, most of these wines are produced in Europe, so everything we tasted was from France or Spain.

Their long tradition of wine making gives them the edge on new ideas and methods apparently.

Everything we tasted, from the Tissot Cremant du Jura NV to the Texier Cotes du Rhone Brezeme Rouge 2006 displayed interesting qualities.

The wine reps (wine geeks, actually, who claimed they spent 95% of their time thinking/talking about wine) were enthusiastic guides as they convinced us that additives and treatments put into wine are there to suit the desires of critics, consumers and Beelzebub.

So, yes, they were a bit biased, but in a good way and their real wine promotion was contagious.

After all, if we care about what we eat and where it came from, shouldn't the same apply to what we drink?

Hold your answers until after you finish your wine.

An Evening of Passion

The VCU Flamenco Festival brought the Flamenco Aparicio Dance Company to the Singleton center last night for an impassioned performance.

If you've seen flamenco music performed, you know that the beat of the dancers' feet is an integral part of the music.

These three dancers brought incredibly powerful footwork to their dances, while at the same time using their arms and bodies to convey the imagery of the songs.

I only wish I had the ability to move my feet and body so sensuously.

The musicians consisted of a percussionist, a flamenco guitarist and a vocalist (who, as it turned out, also danced).

Clearly we were not the only flamenco fans in Richmond since the house was close to full.

 Or perhaps it was the extremely reasonable $15 ticket price, thanks to the underwriting of VCU.

Once again, I am grateful for the array of culture VCU brings to me Richmond.

In any case, it was a passionate and fiery performance to beautiful Spanish music and by the end, the entire audience was on its feet.

As Charlie Moeser, who teaches flamenco guitar at VCU said, "Ole! And wow!"

What Did You Miss Last Night?

This was my second year for the Black Maria Film and Video Festival at the Grace Street Theater.

It's an outstanding chance to see some of the best short form film being made currently and last night did not disappoint.

The highlight was the Grand Prize Selection, Nora. a narrative/dance film shot in South Africa.

It told the story of Nora Chipaumire, a dancer who was born in Zimbabwe in 1965 and now lives in NYC.

The film interspersed modern dance with the story of her life.

Nora's dancing was mesmerizing, as was the majestic African scenery and the film ended with silence at its brilliance from the audience before rapturous applause.

One of the quirkier films shown was The Death of Grandma Gladys, Kate Lain's photographic tribute to her great-grandma.

The pictures show a woman almost always dressed in men's clothes and sometimes kissing another woman.

From these images, Lain tries to draw conclusions which ultimately become a discussion of post-structuralism.

Funny and intriguing at the same time.

This film fest, which travels the country showing a different program in each city, is a once-a-year treat for RVA.

For five bones, it's an evening of superior film making for film geeks.

Even the female ones dressed in men's clothing.

DYOB* Wows the Crowd

I avoided the rush and waited until tonight to check out the new Bowtie Theater; I'd heard it was crazy-busy last weekend when it opened. Understandably, too, given that we city dwellers have had to drive to the counties for movies once we've seen whatever's at the 2-screen Westhampton (which I do love for its art film focus).

I'd read months ago that Bowtie would not show commercials, only trailers, which is a nice touch. I'm sure, for many, the attraction is the alcoholic beverages served in the concession area. My favorite innovation? You get to dispense the butter onto your popcorn yourself (DYOB)...now that's a sure way to please the customer!

I went to see Frost/Nixon because it leaves town tomorrow and I've been meaning to see it since, well, since before I got pneumonia. It was an in-depth look at the process leading to the infamous TV interviews and a sobering reminder of what a cultural shift in America's perception of the Presidency Watergate was.

Not surprisingly, everyone in the audience, like myself, was of an age that lived through the break-in and eventual resignation of Nixon. Of course, we were young and idealistic then and we were now viewing the film with older and wiser eyes and much more life experience, not that it softened my opinion of the man...even a little.

Photographing the Past

"When History Becomes Art" was the lecture topic today at the VA Historical Society and the lecturer was Denise Bethel, director of the photography department at Sotheby's in New York (and originally a Richmond native). Her stories about how they acquired some of the 19th century photographs to be auctioned off were fascinating, mainly because so often the donors had no idea of the value of the pictures. And the values? Back in the 90s, daguerreotypes were going for $20,000, sometimes even $50,000 if they were particularly notable or unusual. These days, she informed us, they can easily go for $100,000 and up each, some even reaching into the millions and many end up in public collections for all to appreciate.

But the glimpse they provide of lives lived long ago make them worth every penny, it seems to me. One was a shot of the US Capital with the second dome in place after the first burned. Another was a composite of every member of the Virginia General Assembly during Polk's administration. A photograph of a renowned surgeon showed him with his hand on a baby's skeleton and a model of a wax heart in front of him. Fascinating stuff.

The shift from photography as a means of documentation (people, buildings, projects) to an art form in and of itself was the underlying theme of the lecture and ties into the current exhibit at VHS, "Photography in Virginia." It's definitely worth checking out.

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

When Richmond gets 6-10" of snow, like we did Sunday night into Monday morning, it's an occasion. First, when you only get this much snow every 7 years, it's easy to forget how beautifully snow transforms the landscape. The wind was strong during the snowstorm, so it found its way into nooks and crannies, highlighting architectural details and framing shapes. Birdhouses had white-covered rooves and perches. Rose and azalea bushes had snow on each leaf. The cross beams on fences were horizontal accents in white.

But the highlight of the snow had to be the 3' snow penis I spotted Monday afternoon on the hood of a car. It was surprising and amazingly accurate in detail. Sadly, when I went back to take a picture of it a few hours later, the car had been moved. I told people about it, but they wanted to see it. Oh, well.

Imagine my surprise this morning when I spotted a truck with not one, but two snow penises (one on the hood, one in the bed of the truck) announcing itself! Is this the 21st century snowman or snow angel? Was there a memo about snow penises that I missed? One I could write off as a freak thing, but three and I think I see a trend. I'm sure this says something about our culture, but I don't care to think too hard about what it might be.

I Love Lily!

Saturday night I spent at Gallery 5 for the All the Saints Theater Company's Spaghetti Dinner and Show, organized by one of my favorite people, Lily Lamberta. Lily is the amazing artist who creates all those larger-than-life puppets, like the ones in the Halloween parade and the mounted heads made entirely of recycled materials in her recent one-woman show at Metro Gallery.

As usual, the evening starts with a buffet dinner of spaghetti, spinach, fresh bread and aioli made by Lily and company. Then everyone re-convenes downstairs for several hours of entertainment. Chris Milk's Huckiddy Puppet Theatre's performance had no puppets this time, but was dark, funny and thought-provoking, as usual. Or maybe it was just its topic of "my life sucks" that appealed to me specifically. The hilarious Herschel Stratego had everyone laughing with his clever songs about women, vegans, stalking and girlfriend rules (and his fireman pajamas were a nice touch). Punk Sinatra's goldfish in a bowl alone was worth the price of admission.

The headliner was DC's Son Cosita Seria, a high-energy trio who played traditional Son Jarocha music (essentially country music of the people). It only took about two songs before chairs were cleared and the audience was stomping, dancing and swaying to the mixture of Spanish, African and indigenous music filling the space. I don't think there was a single person in the room not smiling ear to ear.

Food, a variety of entertainment and dancing...now that's a recipe for a great Saturday night.

Wine Me Up

The Virginia Wine Expo got a new volunteer this year when a friend suggested I help out at the Cardinal Point Winery table Saturday afternoon. Sure, why not? After all, we unemployed types have no reason not to volunteer some of our abundance of free time. Well, that and I would be paid in wine.

The expo opened at 11:00, but only for those in the trade, which meant it was extremely slow for the first two hours. But holy crap, Batman, once the public was allowed in at 1:00, we were slammed. It didn't help that Cardinal Point's Cabernet Franc Reserve had won the Gold Cup the night before, but a surprising number of people who stopped by the table told me that they had been to the winery and had liked every single wine. Quite a testimonial.

So, I got a crash course in CP's wine offerings and began to pour and talk like I knew what I was doing. The A6? A blend of 61% oak-aged viognier and 39% steel-aged chardonnay. The Rockfish Red? A summer wine, an easy-drinking Beaujolais style picnic wine that might even woo some white wine drinkers. And so on.

Many tasters were wine novices and then there were the really obnoxious wine snobs. My favorite was dressed like a woman, but she sure came cross like a man in a leopard-print blouse and informed me that one wine was "accessible...for the uninformed." Give me a break! Then there were the husbands and boyfriends who would flirt with me as their women stood behind them sipping. A couple of them even winked as they left, like we'd made some sort of intimate connection.

After 5 hours smiling and pouring, I left with 4 bottles of wine and probably all kinds of new smile lines. But I had been too busy to focus on all the crap that's been going on in my life lately, so, in some ways, it was the ideal way to spend an afternoon. And plenty of wine for the future...