Soul, with a Side of Sad

I swear, all I did was sit down. I wasn't looking for anything more than a seat.

My Sunday began, as all good Sundays should, with brunch, but not at a restaurant.

The Sharon Jones soul brunch was happening at Steady Sounds, an easy three-block walk from my house, and the occasion was the impending release of the new Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings album.

I walked in to hear the mellow madness of Michael Murphy spinning soul 45s and proceeded upstairs where he was for brunch.

There I found the pop-up style guru, the cheese whiz and lots of others chowing down. Me, I passed by three kinds of Proper Pies to get to Heritage's chicken and waffles with chile honey.

I may not be a southerner by birth, but damned if I don't think that chicken and waffles is the best breakfast ever.

Downstairs, I found more friends, the mod-looking DJ who's growing out her bangs for the first time since I've known her and a favorite cute couple.

I'd seen on Facebook recently that half the couple had posted that, "a perfect Friday night would include art, pie and dancing," so naturally I asked if his had.

Affirmative. Curious about the source of the pie, he said he'd gotten it at Bamboo, "served with a side of crochety."

Apparently when you order pie at Bamboo at 1:45 a.m., the server will tell you you're not allowed to eat it there. And the pie won't be as good as at Garnett's, either, he said.

I couldn't resist looking at the latest art show, Nick Crider's "Work," a collection of prints as well as posters for music shows, trying to decide which one I'd like to own given how reasonably priced they were.

Too full from brunch and with too many people to talk to, I couldn't decide, but I'll go back and score one before the show ends, that much I know.

When I left there, soul music was still blaring and the joint was just as full, always a pleasure to see at my neighborhood record store.

My next stop was the VMFA to see "Atonement," part of the "60 Films in 60 Days" series they're doing.

I slid into a seat at the end of my favorite row and the couple next to me turned as if they'd been awaiting my arrival.

It was the trifecta. Recent transplants landing in my lap again, just like the past two nights.

These had moved from Morgantown, West Virginia and were over the moon about being back in a place with more than chain restaurants and culture at every turn.

They'd just heard of Lucy's and wanted to know if I'd been. They wanted restaurant recommendations and to know about docent tours at the VMFA. They were my kind of people.

In the fifteen minutes before the film began, I learned that they'd seen the Hollywood photography show and, like me, liked it even better than the costume show.

The one of Liz Taylor on the beach was her favorite, she told me after asking mine (couldn't decide).

Interestingly enough, she'd once had a chance to meet Liz, back when she was Warner's wife and living in Virginia.

But a prior engagement had prevented her from going and she'd never gotten over missing her chance.

"I divorced him because he kept me from meeting Elizabeth Taylor," the woman said dryly and I knew we were going to be friends.

I guess that makes you the lucky replacement, I said to her current husband.

"That's me, Mr. Lucky," he grinned, actually sounding sincere.

They were delightful and just before the lights went down, insisted that we exchange cards after the movie so we could meet for drinks or dinner.

Honestly, I did not try to engage these people, they engaged me.

As for "Atonement," I'd seen it at the Westhampton back in 2007 when it came out, but frankly, anything that happened before 2009 is like another lifetime to me, so I'd forgotten how a) beautifully shot it was and b) heart-breakingly sad.

The first half takes place on a summer's day so scenes of lush, green, English fields, hollyhocks and Queen Anne's lace blooming everywhere, felt as faraway as 2007.

Doors were left open, bees crawled on windowpanes and people asked questions at dinner like, "Does the hot weather make you behave badly?"

I only wish it was hot enough for me to answer yes to that.

After an ending that had me in tears, my new friends were as good as their word, insisting we get together soon for drinks and more conversation at the very least.

He handed me a card with both their names, both their phone numbers and a shared e-mail address printed on it.

I found it quaint, perhaps because I'd never seen a couple's card before.

Maybe it's the prize you get when you finally find Mr. Lucky.

Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings Funk It Up

I went to the Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings show at Maymont with a couple of friends and my big pink blanket (GayRVA represents). Without a doubt, it was the most interactive show I've been to in ages, maybe ever. Beforehand the audience was told that Sharon likes a dancing crowd down in front and eager fans accommodated immediately (yes, Hunter, you dancing fool, I saw you front and center). Then the show started with Binky Griptite and the Dap Kings on stage priming the crowd for her arrival and she would have been worth waiting much, much longer for.

Early on, she pulled a guy onstage to dance while she sang and he did his best to keep up. After she found out his name was Chris, she asked if he had a girlfriend. When he said no, she responded, "Well, you will after tonight." He wasn't the last guy she invited up either.

Eventually she invited a group of women on stage to shake their groove things and they were all completely into it (not to mention better dancers than the guys). As the song wound down, she had each dance her way off stage to the applause of the crowd. Local entrepreneur Marshe Wyche was last and milked her moment for all it was worth while the crowd ate it up.

Sharon Jones is a tiny woman with a big voice who showed the audience how it's done with a song that featured her doing the swim, the jerk, the mashed potato, the pony and a few other dances I've forgotten already. The Dap Kings were perfectly right on backing her up start to finish; it's no wonder Amy Winehouse's Back to Black CD grabbed so many ears.

Most of us stood throughout the performance, partly to see and partly because it was tough to sit still with a rocking r & b band like these guys on stage. The perfect early May weather only made things better; if you did lay down, the cloudless sky allowed for the perfect stargazing vantage point while the music floated over and around you.

As expected, I saw at least a dozen people I knew in the wildly diverse audience, although my friend and I had actually expected a much larger crowd, not that it was small by any means.
I'm just saying, Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings on stage in the middle of Maymont on a warm spring evening is a pretty irresistible event, in my humble opinion.

Afterwards, I stopped by my neighborhood joint because I'd been asked to by a friend who had to work but wanted to hear all about the show. Then a couple of customers at the bar started asking questions about the band and the set-up and next thing I knew, I was doing a blow-by-blow for everyone's benefit. They all, it seemed, wanted to hear about the new R & B band kicking it old school.

I did my best to convey what I'd experienced, which I'll be the first to admit in no way resembled actually being there. Uncompromising funk needs to be felt, not described.

Sorry for even wasting the blog space in my feeble attempt to do so. Just go listen to "One Hundred Days" or "I Learned the Hard Way" and get back with me.

I Don't Always Eat Out

Someone asked me recently if I ever stay at home to eat and although he was really just teasing me about the frequency with which I dine out, let's be clear here: I do eat at home. Occasionally. Like last night, although a friend had offered to cook for me, so while I did my dining here, I didn't have to actually do anything besides open the wine. Does that still count as eating at home if no effort on my part is involved?

It turned out that my friend is a another oddball who, like me, has never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, so we celebrated our intentional oversight by going to the Byrd Theater to see Up in the Air. I found the movie's themes interesting (being attracted to someone like yourself can backfire on you) and a bit close to home still (endless scenes of people being given the packet and laid off), but satisfactory in that life isn't always as neatly wrapped up as we might hope for.

Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings' version of the folk classic, This Land is Your Land, behind the opening credits was an incredibly soulful version of a song I actually remember having to sing in music class in elementary school. Not to get off topic here, but do kids even learn about American folk music anymore? I know arts funding in schools has gone down the drain, but I remember how stoked we were as kids to be singing music from the not-too-distant 60s; maybe it was even part of my origins as a music geek.

My friend hadn't been to the Byrd in literally years, and it's always enjoyable to experience something so familiar with fresh eyes. Those seats, though! I try to support every benefit they do for the Byrd Theater Foundation just in hopes of someday being able to watch a film without squirming around in my seat in search of the least uncomfortable position. Luckily, Milk Duds make up for just about anything at the Byrd.

They can even count as dessert when I do eat dinner at home. Just don't look for it to happen again anytime soon.