The beauty of my life is that I actually have fiends who call me up in a raging snowstorm and ask, "Want to go down to the James River and watch three friends take a plunge in the water?"
Now that you mention it, I would love to watch insane people strip down and risk hypothermia for the sake of an experience.
What time are you picking me up?
So he ferried me down in his able vehicle, picked up one of the plungers (who laughably told me that once I got caught up in the excitement, I'd want to join in. It was to laugh.) on the way and down we headed to Tredegar for the spectacle.
First they erected a tent, complete with towels, blankets, dry clothes and a jug of chai tea, while the sane among us stood watching in the blizzard.
And then they actually started disrobing; one wore a bathing suit, one wore long underwear, but just the leg portion and one, the guy from Florida who kept saying his friends at home would never believe him without pictures (my friend was using a large lens to capture every single goose bump) wore just his underwear.
Oh, and they all wore shoes of some kind.
And then they went in the James River in a snowstorm while we watched.
The first brave soul stood there up to his knees acclimating and finally just dropped back into the water.
The second was Florida guy, who just dove right in and under, like a lunatic.
The only female participant was more gradual and took her mug of tea in with her.
She slowly went lower and lower until only her tea mug remained.
I admire their nerve, their circulation systems and that they now have a story they can share for the rest of their lives, but, honestly, I enjoyed it just as much from the frigid, snowy riverbank.
I even found myself making painful cold noises in commiseration as they each submerged.
Best of all, I got to watch the experience and I don't imagine I'll forget it any time soon.
Warm and cozy at The Village eating lunch afterwards, my photographer friend and I agreed that some things we only need see, not experience.
Is this a great life or what?
Showing posts with label snow storms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow storms. Show all posts
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, December 18, 2009
A Cozy Evening of Live Music in a Snowstorm
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow--the Listening Room is ON for tonight. Come on over and enjoy a cozy evening of lovely music and hot cider."
Despite counting on spending my evening at the Listening Room, I was prepared for this show to be cancelled tonight like everything else, so that message was good news. I headed over to the Michaux House and while the crowd was smaller than last month, plenty of people braved the snow to hear Luke Saunders, Jack Meets the Giant and Zac Hryciak and the Jungle Beat.
Ginger cookies, hot cider and coffee rewarded attendees upon arrival, followed by 2+ hours of acoustic music. Setting the holiday mood, Luke Saunders began with a banjo-accompanied rendition of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," followed by several songs about heartbreak (my kind of songs). Even as he was asking the audience if they could tell that he'd never done this before, more people continued to arrive. Snow delays I expect.
Jack Meets the Giant started by doing the holiday classic "Please Come Home" and then telling us he had 20-25 minutes to make us his best friends. The duo recently finished a record with a full band, so we were hearing stripped down versions of everything ("This is the most acoustic this song will ever be," we were told). The lead singer had such an interesting voice, which was further enhanced by his back-up singer (and occasional back-up whistler).
Zac, Zac, Zac. I've seen him and the Jungle Beat a fair number of times since I first saw them open for Mermaid Skeleton's CD release show at the Poe Museum a year and a half ago. The beauty of this band is the level of musicianship. The drumming practically defines their sound and gives you an idea where the name of the group came from. With a violinist and upright bass player in addition to Zac's guitar, there is so much string action working with and against those drums. It's the band's quirky sound that sets them apart musically and Zac's gorgeous voice and heartfelt songwriting don't hurt, either.
Leaving the show around 11, Franklin Street was hushed except for a lone snow plow. The accumulation was significant in the three hours I'd been inside. It's so beautiful, though, outlining fences, capping fire hydrants and weighing down the branches of bushes and shrubs. I was actually surprised not to see more people in the streets and outside in general.
It didn't stop me and the beagle from taking a brisk walk in it when I got home. He has always liked walking in the snow and his old age has apparently not dimmed that. We strolled the neighborhood, enjoying the quiet and hoping to see another dog walker to share the experience with but no luck.
We'll try again tomorrow.
Despite counting on spending my evening at the Listening Room, I was prepared for this show to be cancelled tonight like everything else, so that message was good news. I headed over to the Michaux House and while the crowd was smaller than last month, plenty of people braved the snow to hear Luke Saunders, Jack Meets the Giant and Zac Hryciak and the Jungle Beat.
Ginger cookies, hot cider and coffee rewarded attendees upon arrival, followed by 2+ hours of acoustic music. Setting the holiday mood, Luke Saunders began with a banjo-accompanied rendition of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," followed by several songs about heartbreak (my kind of songs). Even as he was asking the audience if they could tell that he'd never done this before, more people continued to arrive. Snow delays I expect.
Jack Meets the Giant started by doing the holiday classic "Please Come Home" and then telling us he had 20-25 minutes to make us his best friends. The duo recently finished a record with a full band, so we were hearing stripped down versions of everything ("This is the most acoustic this song will ever be," we were told). The lead singer had such an interesting voice, which was further enhanced by his back-up singer (and occasional back-up whistler).
Zac, Zac, Zac. I've seen him and the Jungle Beat a fair number of times since I first saw them open for Mermaid Skeleton's CD release show at the Poe Museum a year and a half ago. The beauty of this band is the level of musicianship. The drumming practically defines their sound and gives you an idea where the name of the group came from. With a violinist and upright bass player in addition to Zac's guitar, there is so much string action working with and against those drums. It's the band's quirky sound that sets them apart musically and Zac's gorgeous voice and heartfelt songwriting don't hurt, either.
Leaving the show around 11, Franklin Street was hushed except for a lone snow plow. The accumulation was significant in the three hours I'd been inside. It's so beautiful, though, outlining fences, capping fire hydrants and weighing down the branches of bushes and shrubs. I was actually surprised not to see more people in the streets and outside in general.
It didn't stop me and the beagle from taking a brisk walk in it when I got home. He has always liked walking in the snow and his old age has apparently not dimmed that. We strolled the neighborhood, enjoying the quiet and hoping to see another dog walker to share the experience with but no luck.
We'll try again tomorrow.
Bring It On. I'll Be Busy.
A forecast of four to ten inches of snow in Richmond causes some people to act so oddly that it provides entertainment value for those of us not as inclined to get our panties in a wad over some winter precipitation.
When I walked by the Kroger at 10:30 this morning, it was mobbed.
And by mobbed, I mean like day-before-Thanksgiving mobbed.
Kroger is undoubtedly having a banner sales day.
When I arrived home from running errands around 1, my landlord had already been by and scattered oodles of a noxious ice-melting pellet mixture all over my steps.
And porch. And sidewalk. And walkway. I think I'm good now.
Walking the dog, I spoke with a couple of neighbors just coming home from work.
Both told me they are in for the weekend, as in, not leaving the house for any reason. Right.
I, on the other hand, accepted a friend's invitation to eat dinner somewhere together tomorrow night.
He lives a mere two miles from me and we figure that between his house and mine, we will be able to find an open restaurant tomorrow evening, even if we both have to walk to meet.
But we will meet.
I also got an e-mail from another friend wanting to meet for brunch late Sunday morning.
Did I hem and haw about planning to meet in the aftermath of the Great December snowfall?
I did not. We made our plans without a second thought about the forecasted weather.
Please excuse my lack of concern for the impending doom of snowfall.
As a guy from Connecticut visiting RVA told me last night, Richmonders are so cute about snow.
Cute is not what I aim for.
When I walked by the Kroger at 10:30 this morning, it was mobbed.
And by mobbed, I mean like day-before-Thanksgiving mobbed.
Kroger is undoubtedly having a banner sales day.
When I arrived home from running errands around 1, my landlord had already been by and scattered oodles of a noxious ice-melting pellet mixture all over my steps.
And porch. And sidewalk. And walkway. I think I'm good now.
Walking the dog, I spoke with a couple of neighbors just coming home from work.
Both told me they are in for the weekend, as in, not leaving the house for any reason. Right.
I, on the other hand, accepted a friend's invitation to eat dinner somewhere together tomorrow night.
He lives a mere two miles from me and we figure that between his house and mine, we will be able to find an open restaurant tomorrow evening, even if we both have to walk to meet.
But we will meet.
I also got an e-mail from another friend wanting to meet for brunch late Sunday morning.
Did I hem and haw about planning to meet in the aftermath of the Great December snowfall?
I did not. We made our plans without a second thought about the forecasted weather.
Please excuse my lack of concern for the impending doom of snowfall.
As a guy from Connecticut visiting RVA told me last night, Richmonders are so cute about snow.
Cute is not what I aim for.
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