Get the Party Started

You have to love a party that begins with dessert.

This was originally a "Farewell to Summer" party which had morphed into a "Hurricane Recovery Party" two days ago.

I was one of the first to arrive, no doubt because I never lost power and there was nothing I could do about my collapsed ceiling today except sweep up the debris.

The hosts were still without power, so the cookout had been changed to a taco party and the guests began to gather on the deck.

Our soundtrack was the next door neighbor's generator, buzzing away noisily in the late afternoon sun.

No power meant no ice, so one host was out trying to find some while the other greeted party-goers.

He insisted that we begin with ice cream since it was rapidly becoming soup cream.

Hard at work until 3:30 a.m. last night, he'd added a Guinness Stout reduction to vanilla ice cream and was serving it with chocolate ganache.

I may not be a beer drinker, but this was about the chocolate and the cream, not the beer.

Once we'd gotten dessert out of the way, we moved on to his basil peach sangria, which packed quite a punch.

Sangria is usually so mild-mannered, but my host had chosen to cut the sweetness of the wine with vodka, resulting in what one guest called a peach mojito.

You know, the old "cut alcohol with alcohol" trick.

Plain and simple, it was a big old cocktail, albeit a beautifully flavored one, and although I'm allergic to peaches and not a cocktail drinker, I drank up.

By some miracle, just as we started eating dinner, the neighbors turned off the generator. It was like a gift to our eardrums.

The crowd was eclectic - an author, comedians, a DJ, several IT types, bloggers, symphony musicians and several Henrico County school employees who got the word that they were off tomorrow mid-party- so the conversations were all over the place.

Where do you send a NYC transplant who asks, "Where can I go to meet people?" someone asked about a new coworker.

Well that depends on what kind of people you want to meet, I said.

Without knowing their preference, someone suggested that you send them to a place that has available men and women so they can pick their favorite flavor.

During a discussion of cell phones (nerdy vs. trendy, sleek vs. washing machine-like), I volunteered to the group that I didn't have one.

Stunned silence.

"Wow! That makes you the biggest hipster here," a girl finally said.

"Do you have a land line?" someone else asked. I nodded.

"Even more so," she pronounced.

Win friends and influence people by being a Luddite.

At dusk, the hosts brought out scads of candles and began making Guinness floats for those with an alcoholic sweet tooth.

Soon the tiki torches were lit and a fire was roaring in a small grill in the back yard.

After the third person asked me what my next stop was, I figured it was time to go.

I stopped home to make sure that no more ceiling had fallen before going to meet friends at the one bar that never seems to close, Bamboo.

And because it's Bamboo, there were as many people outside smoking as there were inside drinking.

Amongst those doing the latter were my friends who had spent a good part of the day shooting a video for their band.

During the shoot, they'd created a house party, with everyone drinking, talking and having a good time.

In essence, the exact same thing they were now doing at Bamboo, but without the cameras rolling. Even some of the extras showed up in their party girl dresses.

But the band members were tired of all that and wanted to talk about more substantive things like "Koyaanisqatsi," Lewis Ginter's mausoleum and surviving a broken heart when your ex walks into Bamboo.

You have to love a party where nerds win out over party girls.

Like Cookouts. Love Music.

I didn't get invited to a cookout tonight, so I went to the Camel instead to hear music.

It worked out well because there were 100 other people who didn't get invited anywhere either and it made for an enthusiastic Sunday night audience.

Or perhaps it was the fact that a lot of people didn't have to work tomorrow; actually the reason matters not.

People were into it.

My farmer friend appeared, freshly showered and ravenous after a day working the land.

He squeezed into the booth I was sharing with Treesa, the violin-playing part of Prabir's Goldrush, her visiting mother and a woman who coincidentally had replaced me at a former editing job six years ago. Just another random booth in Richmond.

The show began with Lexi and Kate, sisters who harmonized in that beautiful way only kinfolk can.

One nearby guy made the astute comment that, "I love skinny girls with guitars" and another said, "We need more clean hippie chicks."

Once they began singing, though, no one mentioned anything but their voices, but the night was already shaping up to be an interesting one.

Prabir and the Goldrush played their usual energetic set with only a few mixing missteps.

Before their cover of "Eleanor Rigby." Prabir specifically said that he wanted the strings brought way up, but they ended up lost in the mix; too bad because the violin and upright bass playing on that song were rocking.

"Bohemian Rhapsody" again closed the set but the crowd was not of the singalong type tonight so it played as a hard-driving instrumental for much of it.

About this time, another friend came over to ask us if we knew that Amazing Ghost was playing the Republic tonight.

"That's why half the crowd just emptied out," the farmer explained.

I am most definitely a fan of Amazing Ghost and most definitely not a fan of the Republic, so it was never an issue for me.

Besides, as someone pointed out, "Amazing Ghost will be around, but these guys are great and they may not."

Ophelia, a recent collaboration between Jonathan Vassar (he of the Speckled Bird) and David Schultz (of the Skyline) boasts the drummer from Thao and the Get Down Stay Down (and Diamond Center) as well as the bass player from the amazing Mermaid Skeletons.

They've already recorded a CD, due out late this summer, although tonight was only their second show live.

And it was every kind of impressive.

When you start with two great voices like Vassar and Schultz, add in some alt-country hooks, a melancholy accordion, harmonica, kick-ass drumming and a strong bass line, you get a sound that speaks to just about everyone in the room in one way or another.

Or at the very least, it speaks to the kind of people who don't get invited to barbecues on Memorial Day weekend.