Kiss on My List

What a vacation send-off!

A wine rep friend's annual Rose party is always a stellar afternoon/evening devoted to the three dozen or so pink wines and a feast of monumental proportions. Fried chicken, cured meats, ribs, cheese, too many salads and dips to name, spiced shrimp, savory shortbread, caprese and who knows what else.

The party couldn't have begun better because I arrived and deposited my food and wine and went to find my hostess, who looked at me as if she'd never seen me before.

"Your hair!" she exclaimed, staring at me. "You look like a rock star! It looks great!" Any party that begins with someone complimenting my hair - especially while it's growing out - is off to a fine start.

It didn't hurt that the weather was ideal - low humidity, breezy and on the shady side of her house- where in addition to a wagon full of pink wines they had plenty of chairs, cornhole (yes, I played, pathetically, but it's just a game) and surprise, surprise, some Jackson Ward neighbors.

In a perfect world, I would catalog all the impressive pinks I drank, but that's not going to happen, so I'll settle for saying that the variety ranged from Sancerre Rose to Gruet Brut Rose to what tasted and smelled like strawberry KoolAid...in the best possible way.

I talked to a friend about switching from an Outer Banks vacation to Topsail, to another about the distinct pleasures of an outdoor shower (the polar vortex being the only fly in that ointment) and another about how lucky the neighborhood is to have Lucy's.

With Hall & Oates playing in the background, a bottle of pink bubbly got sabered, but I was too busy talking to a friend about the first chef she ever worked with to see the demonstration, although we caught the cheers afterward.

At a party like this, you just can't do it all, though god knows I tried.

All of a sudden I looked up and four hours had passed and I had places to be.

Today is a friend's birthday and we were meeting at the Broadberry to hear Boston's Debo Band, whom I'd last seen at Balliceaux back in Fall of 2010, do their take on Ethiopian funk music.

The wait for the band to start gave us time to chat about all kinds of things- strange men putting their arm around me, the records she'd bought today, a funny ex story - while I sipped Hornitos and admired the birthday girl's cute outfit.

Another friend showed up and joined the party, bringing with her a clutch of friends, all eager to hear the band.

Finally the Debo Band took the stage and we moved up to the front to enjoy them. Playing a lot of new material off their upcoming record, they had the small crowd dancing in no time.

With guitar, bass, five horns including sousaphone, violin, drums and an African singer, they would slip into a groove and just ride it. Sometimes it was as unique as Duke Ellington meets North African folk music, while other times, it got downright funky, even a bit psychedelic when you listened to the guitar.

What that meant was that the birthday girl, our friend and I wasted no time in letting the music move our hips and feet, even while we didn't understand a word of the language the songs were sung in.

Didn't need to. Music is the universal language and whether it was a birthday celebration or pre-vacation revelry, tonight was a night to just go with it.

And tomorrow at this time, as someone at the party pointed out, I'll be doing the same thing (drinking pink) except it'll be with a view of the ocean. Can. Not. Wait.

Ethiopian Energy Everywhere

Remember how I said that if you weren't at Balliceaux for the Kings Go Forth show, here, that it was your loss?
Okay, same deal, different band, but another limited big-city tour that just miraculously included us: Boston, Philly, NYC and DC.

Oh yes, and RVA.

The Debo Band out of Boston had everything they needed to lay down 60s and 70s-era Ethiopian grooves: congas, electric guitar, bass, accordion, sousaphone, saxophone and whatever else they decided to play.

Tonight's show featured them along with the visiting Fendika, a group of traditional Azmari artists from Ethiopia, lending their vocal and dancing talents.

This was truly a dream bill.

The place was packed. Bartender Sean told me they'd sold 100 tickets just today and the room only holds 200 people.

Add in planning types like me who'd bought their tickets before today and the brave souls who just walked up to the door and you've got a full house.

It was a tight fit to start and once the crowd started dancing, well let's just say body parts met body parts.

When I got there, I established my spot with a good view at the corner of the bar, where an Ethiopian guy immediately introduced himself to me; he'd driven from Harrisonburg for this show.

Later, I met a girl who'd come from DC.

It was a huge bonus to hear from two Ethiopians who had seen the band before and they only whetted my appetite further for the show we were all so excited about.

They tried to verse me on the dancing I was about to see so that I could join in, but you can imagine where that went.

I felt much better when the guy told me he wasn't any good at Ethiopian dancing either.

"Well, if you aren't any good with your heritage, what chance does this American have?" I asked, making him laugh and give up.

Peter Solomon from WCVE stopped by to chat with me, telling me that he sees me at every music event he attends.

He mistakenly assumed that that meant I had musical talent, so I relieved him of that misconception, clarifying that I'm just a music fan.

He was thrilled that the Debo Band had a sousaphone because it was the instrument that made him want to learn to play music.

Unfortunately, his dad found a trombone for a dollar, so he ended up learning that instead, but his love for the sousaphone lives on apparently.

But then the entire room was full of music lovers tonight.

I was one of many who loved how the Debo Band slipped into a groove and just stayed there.

With the addition of Fendika, the music became even more North African sounding and when the dancers shared the stage with them, it was like watching a complete circle of music and dance.

So we had this 14-piece jazz collective who already focus on Ethiopian grooves sharing the stage with traditional Ethiopian musicians, making for the funkiest world music possible in what gradually became an overheated room due to all the moving bodies.

Tonight Balliceaux was a little slice of slinky groove heaven.

Like I said, you should have been there.

My regrets if you weren't.