Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
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Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Harrisonburg, you know how to throw a good shin-dig. I’ve been to some that were all pulled pork and PBR. Some that were wine and cheese and silent films. Some that were champagne and eggs benedict. Some that were margaritas and enchiladas. Some that were craft beer and local food. I even hosted one that was sushi lessons and gourmet cake. But this one was something brand new.
I went to my first-ever Progressive Party with Brandy and I LOVE the concept. A progressive party is one in which guests move from one home to another to enjoy a multi-course meal. Cocktails and appetizers at one location, dinner at the next, coffee and dessert at yet another, and so on. Until a couple weeks ago, my only experience with such a thing has been at my own house. I sorta have my own version of the progressive party… snacks for the kids on the coffee table, then dinner at the kitchen table, followed by maybe a popsicle or ice cream sandwich on the porch. And cocktails for me throughout. Okay, so maybe that’s not really a “party,” but there usually is a fair amount of laughing, dancing, and spilling. And yes, I have been known to make a meal out of cheese, crackers, and rolled up salami held together with those little festive toothpicks.
Anyway, Brandy and I were lucky enough to be invited to the Arts Council’s Fourth Annual Progressive Party. Because our lives are a sitcom, the evening started out strangely. First, the people we’d invited as our “dates” for the evening both succumbed to last-minute illness. Thankfully, Brandy’s sister Brook was available, and that woman went from sweat pants to cocktail dress and drove thirty miles in like 43 minutes. Then, we weren’t sure where exactly we were going, so there’s that. That, and trying to explain the location to Brook. Once there, Brandy managed to get her purse caught in the lace of her dress and then pointed out the three holes in her pantyhose. Meanwhile, I regretted choosing to wear my “superbra” because I couldn’t stop tugging at that thing.
Now, it’s hard for a herd of 260 partiers to eat dinner at one person’s house, so this Progressive Party deviated from the norm a bit. All the guests assembled for happy hour at the home of Chuck and Geri Barker (co-hosted by Keri and Joel Davis). Their spacious home, patio, and garden perfectly accommodated all of us, and we enjoyed a lovely selection of beer, wine, and hors d’oeuvres. We saw lots of friends there, like Mike and Suzi, and Lindsay and Don, and Rachel and Andrew. I complimented Patrice on her dress, and then I learned that apparently, you can RENT clothes. I mean, clothes that are not a tuxedo. You can rent a dress for an evening. And by “rent,” I don’t mean buy it, wear it, spray it with Febreze and return it for a refund the next day. I mean, you can RENT a dress. Perhaps the inventor of rent-a-dress and the inventor of the progressive party are one and the same.
At about six o’clock, we were instructed to move to our dinner location. All 260 guests were divided among roughly twenty host homes for a home-cooked meal. Brandy, Brook, and I were assigned to Meg and Bill Wightman’s. In a typical progressive party, Meg and Bill would just serve us the next course, like salad, and then we’d go to another home. But because of the crazy number of people involved in this thing, we stayed put at the Wightman’s for SIX more courses, to be deliciously outlined in the photos that follow. Prepare to drool.
While we waited for everyone in our group to arrive, we looked around their adorable home. The kitchen is gorgeous, and that coupled with Meg and Bill’s unbelievable calmness assured me we were in for a good meal. We admired precious art work by their kids, Alice and Liam, like the butter dish Alice made at You Made It. And we saw Bill’s collection of defaced dollar bills. He would buy defaced bills from the bank, rescuing them from certain shredding.
Everyone arrived, and to our delight, we were joined by Chuck and Geri Barker (from whose house we’d just come) and Lindsay and Don Denny. So our group consisted of Meg, Bill, Lindsay, Don, Chuck, Geri, Brook, Brandy, and me. Then the food started. First, this martini glass filled with pink snapper and mango salsa plus jalapeno — yow! Man, that was delish. They get their fish from Pickford’s Fresh Seafood — it’s overnight-ed from Hawaii!! And wine from Vintage Wines — both stores are across from Costco. Oh, and Vintage Wines has tastings on Fridays and Saturdays.
Next up was spaghetti with Pecorino cheese and pork and some other things I missed because I was eating noisily. Then a salad of baby greens, homemade Hawaiian bread croutons, and goat cheese.
Between courses, we chatted about family and friends, about death and legacy (Geri’s mom had recently passed), about kids, and about nearly dying from canoe-related mishaps, which nearly everyone at the table had experienced.
Then came THE MEAT. Omgahd, the meat. Lordy. Bill grilled these lamb chops and served them over this butternut squash, red lentil, and coconut puree, and I think there was spinach and garlic in there somewhere, and heavens-to-Betsy, it was SO SCRUMPTIOUS. And the little flatbreads with coriander chutney — Lord.
After that Meg asked, “Is anyone else hot, or is it just my stage in life?” Or maybe it’s that she’d been running in and out of the kitchen all night. At any rate, the next course cooled us off: a grapefruit champagne sorbet. And finally, dessert. A blueberry-white chocolate bread pudding with amaretto sauce. You wouldn’t believe the reaction. Everyone just wanted to move in. We all fell in love with the Wightman’s at the first bite.
Lamentably, the meal ended, even though I was stuffed to the gills and couldn’t possibly have eaten more. Except maybe one more lamb chop. Or five. At any rate, the final “course” of the progressive party was a performance by Blue Label at Court Square Theater. They played songs by artists from Elvis to Stevie Wonder to Lady Gaga. We heard “Happy” and “Footloose” and “PYT.” And people were dancing like CRAZY. I was seriously trying not to scald someone with my coffee as I wiggled my way down the aisle. And once I felt I had safely digested most of that delicious meal, Brandy, Brook and I cut a rug, too! In another part of town, in fact just a few yards away, MACRoCk was raging… but I’m pretty sure we had just as much fun.
If you ever get a chance to attend the Arts Council Progressive Party, you won’t regret it. Not only will you be treated to an exquisite meal, but you’ll have warm conversations with friends old and new, you’ll get to dress up (even if you have to rent it, girl), you’ll get to hear some music and dance your feet off, and most importantly, you’ll be helping the Arts Council continue to provide Harrisonburg with meaningful art experiences. Hope to see you next time!
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
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Amy Haloskey: former student.
Amy was a student in my Art 1 class during my second year of teaching. Before her, I viewed student-teacher relationships very differently. She helped me to see that connections can be genuine and deep even in a school setting. She truly made me a better teacher. I am happy she is still a part of my life and am very proud of the woman she is becoming.
Just for you, Amy: Be a beauty. Not a beast.
Mrs. K (Denise Kuykendall): mentor.
I’ve known Mrs. K for over 12 years. A psychic once told her that she would always have a house full of people. The psychic was right. Mrs. K will welcome anyone into her home, cook them a meal, then send them home with leftovers. She is extremely nurturing and motherly. This is what I’ve taken from her. I always welcome the chance to invite others to my table. You never know where that moment can take you…or them.
Denise Allen: friend.
Denise and I have been friends and partners in event planning for several years. She is a true friend who is genuinely excited about life…and she’s not afraid to jump up and down and express it with 47289 exclamation points! (!) Denise believed in my ideas when they were only passing thoughts…she helped see them through. I’m so happy to have a motivated, ambitious friend like her.
Ben Fraits: my main squeeze.
I met Ben at the Fairfield Center’s Valley Plane Pull. It’s funny to think we went to high school together, walked the same halls and never knew each other existed until 12 years later. Ben’s creativity is inspiring. He has taught me to trust again and to let myself be loved…and for that, I am thankful.
Just for you, Ben: 9:30 and 70 degrees…oh and, dachoo. (!)
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Brenda Burner: aunt.
When I was little, I was eavesdropping on a conversation my aunt Brenda was having with my mom. Brenda explained how she thought graying women were beautiful and how she couldn’t wait to have long gray hair. I had not thought about beauty in that way until that moment. Brenda has a few gray hairs (usually wrapped up in one giant roller) and she gets more beautiful each year. I’m happy that my nosiness intersected with one of her (many) chat sessions with my mother. Brenda was later my Lamaze coach and continues to be a strong female role model for me.
Jay Herr: friend.
Jay lived across the street from me in college. One evening we were on our way to a Pearl Jam concert with a bunch of friends. We made a restroom pit stop and when we returned to the interstate we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I complained “Aw man! If we didn’t make that stop, we could have missed this accident.” Jay replied, “…or we could’ve been in it…” This one line has made me more aware of my complaints, even to this day.
L’Tanya Sims: friend.
I met LT when IHOP first opened and we both waited tables there. What I admire most about L’Tanya, other than her enormous heart, is her ability to lay down roots and create a sense of community around her…where ever she may be. Give her a box and it becomes a home where all are welcome. Give her a big city and she will find a nook and become mayor of that nook. Give her a naive college girl (that would be me) and she will look out for her and see that she makes it out alive.
Just for you, LT: Mens Rea!
Teddy Helsley: father.
When I took this photo it was the third time I’ve met this man. Each time I leave him, I leave with a better understanding of myself. He contributed to half of my DNA and before I even ask, his stories explain the parts of me that have been mysterious up to that point. It’s sometimes as if he reads my mind. He has a kind, calm soul and I look forward to making more memories with him and his family.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
When a friendship is forged in disaster, I think it means more.
It’s easy to be friends when life is sweet, when things are looking up and laughter is the norm. When life is good, our edges are smooth. We appear peaceful and benign. We radiate contentedness. We’re easy to approach, and easy to spend time with.
When life turns sour, as it does for us all from time to time, our ugliness hangs out. Our bitterness rises up, our tempers flare, our patience recedes. We go to bed worried and wake up sad and are just AWFUL to be around.
Anyone who would love you at your absolute ugliest is the truest form of friend there is. I keep using “we” and “you” as if to exclude myself from the very idea I’m writing about. So let me rephrase that. Anyone who would love ME at my absolute ugliest is the truest friend I could have. And I’m lucky to have a few of those precious people in my life. And my most dear friend, Brandy Somers, entered my world when I wasn’t exactly at my prettiest, and she recently complimented me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I knew she was putting together this massive photography show called Some of My Parts, and I knew she needed a photo of me for it, but it wasn’t until I was there, at the Blue Nile, looking at eighty-some photos on the wall, that I fully understood.
Her idea was to portray her life’s timeline through photographs. When we think of a timeline, we think of major events along a linear path, marked by years divided into neat increments. But life is so much deeper (and messier) than that — life follows no two-dimensional line… and really, it’s not the events themselves that are important; it’s the people involved in those events. So she made this list of, like I said, eighty-some people who held an important place on the timeline of her life, and she contacted them all and asked to take their pictures. She traveled all over the place, literally hundreds if not thousands of miles, to find each person and take a NEW photo. For mine, it was easy: she just walked the two hundred steps from her classroom to mine and clicked the camera. But some people on her list were in Alaska! Australia, even! So she had to get creative there. And some people had already passed… so she assembled a collection of things that represent those folks and snapped a photo of that.
Then I realized my portrait would be hanging among all these other important people. Really? Me? But… she’s seen all my ugly parts!
Every single photo is captioned. She showed it to me later — it’s FIFTEEN TYPED PAGES of captions she wrote. Mine says this:
“Katie Mitchell: friend, coworker.
Like two thorny roses rising from the ashes…that pretty much describes the start of our friendship. We experienced similar let downs around the same time in life…and Katie was my go-to, my levelheaded rock. She is a wonderful friend, teacher and mother. I love her so much I could start a blog about our friendship…oh, wait…we did that.”
I was so nervous to read my caption! (It seems so silly, but… well, you’ll understand in a minute. Stay with me here.) My face hung on the wall amid dozens of others, and I liked seeing it. Although my crows feet have deepened, my eyes are still bright, and I think I looked how I feel I look when sitting across from my best friend: safe, loved, and of course, a wee bit amused.
The whole process, naturally, got me thinking about my timeline and the people who would be on it. Of course my parents, who were present at most every major event in my life… my best childhood friend Kathy, who would ride bikes with me down to the creek, whose mom took us to see Dirty Dancing at the theater, with whom I’d stay up ALL NIGHT eating Twizzlers and playing Missile Command, Space Invaders, and Yars Revenge. And even my bully in middle school. I’m pretty sure he ending up killing someone and is still in jail. But he certainly made his mark on me, and he’d have to be on my timeline.
When you scroll through these portraits and read the captions (and this is just a tiny portion of them), no doubt you’ll be touched. But I struggle to describe the effect of them all, hanging together on the wall in a small space… all the faces gazing out collectively at the viewers… echoes of memories past and voices present. A collision of time and space.
Shawn Nicholson: cousin.
When I was little, I thought Shawn was the coolest.dude.ever. I was annoying and he put up with me and made my days more interesting. I feared death a few times riding in his Mustang…then there was that time he shot me…but other than that he protected me from the world with his real advice and stories of trial and error.
Just for you, cuz: BB to the butt.
PLUS, realizing that a good many people featured in the show are actually standing in the room with you. Everyone seeing double! It’s possible Brandy was the only person there who knew all the people there and on the wall. I probably knew twenty-five percent: most of these folks were strangers to me! How could I not know more of them, when they are so important to someone who’s important to me? But we ALL knew that everyone in that room was important to this woman’s life, and she took great pains to honor that.
Lori Simmers: former classmate.
Lori and I went to high school together. When we graduated, Lori married her high school sweetheart and asked me to photograph their wedding. She believed in me and that stands out. I shot her wedding (my first wedding ever) on a Canon film camera.
Lee Parton: friend…damn near brother.
My brother-from-another-mother for sure. Lee and I met and became insta-friends my freshman year at JMU. The bond was familial from the start and all the ups and downs in both our lives have only brought us closer. We have survived being roommates twice…I’m still not sure how that was ever possible. Lee probably doesn’t know it, but I may not have made it through my first year of college without his push. I admire his determination. He is a fighter, in the best of ways.
Just for you, Dawg: Professor Parton…I need mah keys!
And so lots of people who’d never before crossed paths — ever — met each other that evening and came to understand where they stood in the story of Brandy’s life, in relation to each other.
Katie Turner: friend, neighbor.
What I love about Katie is that she is always up for a spontaneous, fun adventure. Whether it be hiking Old Rag (in the wrong direction), getting turned sideways, tipped and scarred in a canoe on the Shenandoah river, midnight rides to Wendy’s, or playing real life Where’s Waldo on road trips…she showed me that positive, happy memories can be made during difficult times, even on random weekday evenings.
Just for you, Katie: Eagles suuuuck!
Jake Miller: uncle.
Jake is an electrician. One day Nanny and I took him lunch at a house he was working on. The house belonged to a photographer for National Geographic and I was totally enthralled with the quality of images all around his house. While Nanny and Jake chatted I wandered from room to room looking at the photographs. That day, I decide I wanted to do that. I wanted to take photos that mattered to people…that were memorable. If my uncle Jake had any other career, that moment may have never happened for me.
Maurice Burner: Pawpaw.
A man of few words but the shrapnel in his leg proves that he has quite a courageous story to tell. This Dale Earnhardt lovin’ father of seven is a pro at the boob-grab-photo-bomb (with his wife of course). He is earth conscious and the best farmer I know. He taught me the value of backbreaking labor with the reward of fresh produce at the end of the day.
The impact of watching that phenomenon unfold was akin to being slapped with her big ole raw bleeding heart. Not in a horrific way, but in the sense that all the little bits of Brandy I’d seen over the years were now together, in one space, at one time, as if some great secret had finally been revealed. By the time I finally composed myself long enough to look at every photo and read every caption, including mine, I was stinging with emotion. They say the human brain is the most complex object in the universe. But maybe it’s the heart.
Nanny (Betty Longerbeam): best friend, grandmother. (RIP)
There’s a video of the hospital waiting room on the day my son, Blake, was born. In the video, everyone is glued to the window surrounding the nursery as Blake is carried in by his father after my cesarean. Oohing and aahing filled the clip…except for Nanny. I could hear her concerned voice asking repeatedly, “Where’s Brandy? How is she? When can we see her?” Then she proceeded to count Blake’s fingers and toes…as she always did with all newborns. When Ella was born, my Nanny at the age of 70, drove from Strasburg, Virginia to Wilmington, North Carolina to meet her the day after she was delivered. Four miles from the hospital, Nanny was in a car accident that totaled her car. She was transported to the same hospital as me and when I wheeled myself down to see her, she waited until her young doctor turned around and gave him a trademark Nanny-breast-shake behind his back. She was the youngest 70 year old I have ever met. There was never a question in my mind that my Nanny loved me. She brought me into her home when I was a fresh baby human, cared for me until she passed and provided me with a lifetime of memories. She taught me how to drive and play rummy and laugh at life.
Her birthday is April 13, and this show is dedicated to her.
Just for you, Nanny: Go buck a fuzzard.
The moral of the story is… well, there are three. One, I am inspired to somehow incorporate this concept into my life. Because at the end of the day, we all just want to know we mattered to somebody. That we’re part of someone’s timeline. Two, what might seem like a casual or chance encounter with someone could change his or her life. Handle with care. And three, you have to see this. You have to. And you still can, upstairs at the Blue Nile (which is located at 181 North Main Street in Harrisonburg) between now and April 29. You’ll see a few more portraits here on the blog tomorrow and Wednesday, but please believe me when I say YOU REALLY HAVE TO BE THERE.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
And the results are in!
First place honors in the youth category went to Chantel Pence, Harrisonburg, for “Birds Eye View.” There was a tie for second place with Chelsey Pence, Harrisonburg, conjuring up votes for “Explosion,” and Haley Tebo, Rileyville, winning with “Kamala.” Third place honors went to Helen Joya, Harrisonburg, for “Alice Is Stuck in Wonderland.”
The overall adult winner went to Nancy Dauer, Harrisonburg, with “From Words to Yarns.” Anna Thornbury and Andrew Shantz, Harrisonburg, teamed up for their second-place entry, “A Novel Death.” Mary Lu Lewis, Harrisonburg, and Diane Landis, Bridgewater, shared third place honors with “Homage” and “In a Dark, Dark House.”
Here are some more photos for your amazement!
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Having been teaching and studying literature, and reading and writing for a long time, I’ve amassed a small library of books. They’re everywhere… all over the house. I haven’t quite made the leap to the e-reader yet, partially because I remember The Great CD Conversion of 1988 during which I spent a small fortune (for a 16 year old) replacing all my music cassettes. The thought of replacing just a tiny percentage of my book collection (say, the Joyce Carol Oates part, for example) is just too much to absorb. Plus, books are just prettier than an e-reader. I love how they look piled in a stack. I love moving them from the “To Read” stack to the “Finished” shelf. And some of their covers are nothing short of exquisite. In many cases, commissioned artists design those covers. And so a real paper and cardboard book is a work of art, through and through.
It’s sad to think of a book in a dumpster. In the landfill. But to hoard every book I’ve ever owned to prevent it from ending up in the trash is… well… hoarding. The neat freak in me can’t do that.
Much to my relief, my inner neat freak and my inner art lover reconciled once and for all when Brandy and I attended Massanutten Regional Library’s Altered Books Contest and Gallery last Friday. The practice of altering gives old, perhaps worn out books — books on the very brink of disposal — a new life and purpose. Their tattered pages no longer have endure the flips and tugs of careless readers; that pressure is gone. All an altered book has to do anymore is sit somewhere and look awesome, interesting, beautiful. The newly rendered “book” even gets a new name, as I noticed at the library’s display. Truly, a rebirth.
So we browsed the altered books, submitted for competition by adults (ages 18 and older) and youngsters (ages 12 – 17). We saw the piece created by last year’s contest winner, Diane Landis, entitled In a Dark, Dark House — she’d used several discarded books to create a majestic castle. Some were quite useful… like Carol K. Smith’s Hooked on Books. She turned books into a coat rack with a frame. Some were really large, like From Tree to Book to Tree Again — a big tree sculpture made by several artists out of pages of books.
Nancy Dauer built this huge loom thing out of torn up and disassembled books (From Words to Yarns — ha ha!). And Ben Fraits somehow glued the pages of his books together so they became completely solid, then carved them like a block of wood.
Anna Thornbury and Andrew Shantz cleverly constructed literal interpretations of their books. For example, a wooden stake pierced the cover of the book Dracula; the book Titanic appeared to be split in half by an iceberg; Joan of Arc was partially charred. They called this collection A Novel Death.
The kids’ entries were even more impressive. Explosion featured origami exploding from the center of a school textbook. For Bird’s Eye View, Chantel Pence made a diorama out of a book. And in Alice is Stuck in Wonderland, a barbie doll Alice protrudes — stuck, indeed — from the center of the book.
All this awesomely creative art work simply is not something you can do with your Kindle. Sorry. Soon the library will announce winners in both categories — adult and youth — the winning “books” will be on display April 14 – 19. Can’t wait to find out how this story ends! And stay tuned for more photos this week!
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
What do people do when they’re cooped up during an extra-long winter? They come up with tons of good ideas, and then unleash them all at once at the first sign of (finally!!) spring.
This is one of those weeks where you need serious equipment and endurance. A LOT of people have been working hard to put together A LOT of events, for YOU. Including First Friday artists and hosts. And Progressive Party hosts. And MACRoCk crazy people. And Women in Focus organizers. YES — all that and more is descending on our city this week. So pack your tent (just kidding — I don’t think you’re allowed to camp out), your Camelbak, your orthotics, and some Power Bars, because this week’s gonna deplete the heck out of you. In a good way.
Check out what’s Happyning right here!
xoxo!
This week brings us St. Patrick’s Day and the first day of, uh, spring. And Harrisonburg just wants to celebrate all week from the looks of this line up! Sheesh! Put on your cute spring dress, drape a wool coat over it, and put your flip flops in your purse for when you get there. There’s LOTS to do this week! Check it out here!
As I sit here, the rain is pouring down. Soon it’ll be sleet, then ice, then apparently a whole lot of snow. Yes, I went to the grocery store today. But hardly anyone was there. Hundreds of loaves of bread stuffed the shelves. Not one empty space in the milk cooler. There were a few dents in the beer aisle, but that’s probably normal no matter what the weather. I think collectively the city has declared to Mother Nature, “Eh, who cares,” even though we’re getting every form of precipitation there is in a 12-hour span.
But “precipitation” isn’t just about weather. It also means a sudden acceleration. And when you get a peek at this week’s Happynings, you’re gonna want to put on your boots, shovel out your car, and accelerate on down the street to some awesome events! Have a look for yourself! xoxo!
Didn’t I recently read an article stating that Harrisonburg is one of the smartest cities? It’s no shocker, really, what with two universities and a college right here in town, lots of high-tech jobs, and two highly esteemed school divisions. But I didn’t really give it much thought until Brandy, Ben, Michael, and I attended Team Trivia Night at Clementine for the first time last Tuesday.
Man, Harrisonburg! You’re a bunch of smartypants! And we…. were not.
I learned A LOT that night, including
1. Pretty much everything, and
2. Irony is overrated.
See, we hadn’t done this before. We were Team Trivia virgins. Green. Wet behind the ears. Fresh meat. Thankfully, one of the hosts came over and explained the deal. Here’s the lowdown in case you haven’t tried it yet. You get an answer sheet arranged in quadrants, one for each of four rounds. Each round has four questions. The questions are read aloud in a cluster. Then you and your team (of six or fewer hopefully intelligent people) discuss the questions and (of course) try to come up with the answers. When you fill in your answers on the sheet, you can rank them so that the answer you feel most confident about will get you the most points. You cannot use your phone or similar device. (And believe me, the teacher in me was WATCHING! And I didn’t see anyone cheat.) Then you have a couple minutes to run your answer sheet to the stage so the hosts can grade it and tally the points. They bring the sheet back and it’s on to the next round. Okay.
Well, someone in our group wrote the word “WINNER” at the top of our page prematurely. We THOUGHT maybe that would influence the judges, or at least please the Trivia Gods, or send some karma our way. Unfortunately, that word ended up being our team name. Yes, WINNER was the name of our team. So… round after round, we continued to hear, “In last place — WINNER…” All night. All four rounds. Through to the end.
There’s something to be said for consistency, I guess. But irony? I hate you now.
Sorry if that was a massive spoiler — you know, finding out that we didn’t win. I’m sure you’re as surprised as we were. The actual WINNERs got every single question right, so they racked up the whole 72 available points (and someone should check my math on that because I learned that night that I AM A DINGBAT) plus whatever amount they wagered in the bonus round at the end.
I can’t wait to tell you about the types of questions, but first, I should mention that the place was pretty full! I was pleasantly surprised to see so many folks out on a Tuesday night for a brainy endeavor. And it was fun! People were friendly and funny and personable and relaxed. Really, don’t be intimidated by it. We got SMOKED by every team in the room, and we still left happy and laughing. And other than ours, the team names were pretty clever. Like Quiz in My Pants, Michelle Obama’s Favorite Vegetable Barackoli, Males of Seduction, Snails of Destruction, and SEVERAL that are a little too racy for this blog, designed to make the hosts say something embarrassing when they had to announce the standings.
Round One began. The first question was about Hosni Mubarak and what country he presided over. We said Israel <cringe>. Question 2: what was the name of the girl with “hotty body” in the Outkast song “Roses?” Someone in our group announced proudly, “I know who sings that song!” Sigh. The answer: Caroline. We actually knew the answer to the third question, which was “Care Bears.” The last question dealt with “the increase in quaalude sales due to what movie?” We said The Hangover. Another group said Frozen, lol! The answer: The Wolf of Wall Street. Dang it! Okay, so we got one right. We vowed to do better as a team. While we were waiting for the results, someone in our group said, “The suspension is killing me!” !!! Someone kicked me under the table and then said, “Sorry for playing leggings with you.” Geez! Did we even stand a chance?
Round Two. I’m pretty sure we got the first question right: who was born first, Monet or Van Gogh? Monet, by 13-ish years. But then, what are the three colors on the Venezuelan flag? (yellow, blue, and red) A question about a 2002 Musical that won an Oscar. It was Chicago. We said Moulin Rouge. And the fourth question involved the periodic table. Just forget it.
After Round Two, there’s a Halftime Round. Not for points, but for a round of shots for your team. You’d think that would make us muster all the intellect we had. Nope. Still missed it.
Round Three. We got ’em ALLLLL wrong. We said Tchaikovsky, it was Mozart. We said Santa Barbara, it was Newport Beach. We said the FCC, it was NASA. And we couldn’t even come up with a Swiss watchmaker. It was Omega.
No. Mozart.
When we reached Round Four, we were all a bit sheepish. Our egos were stinging. We called our cocktail waitress over. She was very helpful.
Okay, so see how many of these you know (i’ll hide the answers at the bottom):
1. Which Virginia college’s athletic teams are known as the Fighting Squirrels?
2. What do the letters in the acronym SWAT stand for?
3. In which city did George Washington deliver the first State of the Union address?
4. Which Jimmy John’s sandwich (by name or number) has the fewest calories? (or maybe it was fat content, I can’t remember…)
And then the final round, in which you can wager up to half of the points you’d earned so far: What did the state of New York require all cars to have, starting in 1901?
Now for this one we had a discussion. Windshield wipers? A rear-view mirror? Someone suggested headlights, because “there’s only two times you’d be driving around — day and night.” God help us. Someone else said “wheels.” What — so we don’t have to drive around on our feet like Fred Flintstone anymore? Lord. Anyway, I think we might have landed on “horn.” I don’t really remember, and our wager amount was a decimal anyway.
no peeking!
So, we totally failed. But it was soooo much fun! We have vowed to each other to go back and try again, all for one and one for all! And before we do, I’m going to load up on salmon and almonds and B12 three times a day for like a month. Then I’ll drive my giant head down to Clementine and mop the floor with all you brainiacs!
You can play, too! Tuesdays at 9pm sharp at Clementine, with overflow seating downstairs in Ruby’s Lounge. See you out and about!
Answers: Mary Baldwin, Special Weapons and Tactics, New York City, the #4, and license plates.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
we love everything in this place. about this place. from this place. of this place.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
I was gonna say that the Happynings this week might look a little skimpy… but they don’t, really. The reason they might look skimpy is because I REMOVED ALLLL THE FOOD AND DRINK SPECIALS that I suspect might no longer be valid. The reason they DON’T actually look skimpy is because Harrisonburg’s so awesome that there’s still plenty to do unrelated to eating and drinking.
So, if you are a bartender/employee/owner of a local restaurant not listed this week, please email me at katie@ilovemyburg.com, or message me through our Facebook page, describe your weekly food/drink special, and I will gladly add it back on. If I’ve never mentioned your event on Happynings, I’m happy to do that, too. It’s a free service, so please send me the info! I’m also working on reconnecting some links that were glitchy/nonfunctioning/generally flicted.
Thanks for helping me get up to speed! Have a super week, and here are your Happynings!
In case you didn’t know, today isn’t just Valentine’s Day. It’s ilovemyburg.com’s 2nd anniversary! Yep — Brandy and I launched the site exactly two years ago, on a date we felt appropriately expressed our feelings for the Burg. Of course, we all love this city all the time, not just on one day of the year, but it sure is fun to celebrate milestones. In our second year, we published 156 posts, each one a testament to Harrisonburg’s awesomeness. Our readership exploded. Most importantly, our friendship grew in ways that make me ever grateful for my life, my home, Brandy, and the countless loved ones who shared in our experiences… including you. You, who keeps coming back here to read about our shenanigans. We love you!
So a celebration was in order. Brandy lovingly put together an album of our favorite moments from 2013, and we decided to go on a double date at one of Harrisonburg’s oldest and dearest loves, the Little Grill Collective. That place has been a part of my life since I moved here when I was just twenty-one. Brandy and Ben have memories of the Grill that reach way farther back than that. And Michael and I had our first date there. Needless to say, it’s pretty special.
Although it was only Tuesday, we’d all had the sort of week that makes you want to poke yourself in the eye. Thankfully, we were in a place that hugs you as soon as you walk in. Even more thankfully, I was about to smother my problems with all-you-can-eat tacos. Mexi Nite fixes everything!
If you haven’t been to Mexi Nite (and it kinda scares me if you haven’t), you’re served a lovely plate containing (and these are my terms, so pardon me) two tacos, a potato roll up, a delicious delicacy I like to call “the floppy,” beans, and rice. And when you finish, they bring you MORE! And MORE again! And because the Grill is always conscious about waste, you can order your plate without certain items if you don’t think you’ll be able to eat it all. So I got my plate with no rice. Michael got his with no tomatoes but added a bit of chicken. Brandy added some guac, and Ben ordered his straight up. We also ordered a bucket of Negro Modelo. Yes, a bucket. There was so much love at that table I thought I would pop.
The boys were a bit chatty, so chatty that Brandy and I silently plowed through plate number one and ordered a second lickety split. We were a little more leisurely with our second helping and managed to have a conversation. It had been a couple months since I was in there, and they’ve made some upgrades! First, their gorgeous new tables, made by Aaron Harper Johnston and Kurt Rosenberger. Also, there’s a staircase near the restroom. I think it goes up to their sound booth, or maybe to a secret fort. They revamped their cash register area (did I see a COMPUTER?) and now bring your tab to your table for you. Fancy! The bathroom’s been painted, and instead of the scrawled graffiti, it’s all been framed and organized.
Of course, some of the things we love haven’t changed. Like the Dylan painting. The giant bulletin board of announcements and happenings around town. The Go Ask Alyce (I love that lemon tahini!). BRUNCH. Trivia cards. Yoda. Jesus. Metal lunch boxes full of notes and photos. Beer buckets. And that cute little window into the kitchen.
All of it caused us to think about the past and the present. What’s the same and what has changed. All the beautiful things still to come. Then we looked at the time and had to scoot: Team Trivia was starting at Clementine in like fifteen minutes (that post will be up next week!). If you’re still looking for something to do tonight for Valentine’s Day, you can head on down to the Grill and see The Leeroys perform at 8pm! It’s also Down Home Night, so get there a bit early for some good old-fashioned southern home cookin’!
Happy Valentine’s Day, Harrisonburg. YOU ARE LOVED.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
The week leading up to the 24-Hour Project at Court Square Theater, I only worked one day. It was a teacher workday – we were finishing up first semester grades and planning for the second semester. I had a most productive day. I finished my grading and made a couple weeks’ worth of shiny, pristine, gorgeous lesson plans.
As usual, when I get ahead at work, we get a snowstorm, because the Universe can’t allow me to be fully and confidently prepared for tomorrow. So, we missed school the rest of the week. And each day, I thought, “Surely we’ll go back to school tomorrow,” so I made sure to be AS LAZY AS POSSIBLE that day, staying in bed as late as possible, returning to bed as often as possible, exerting as little effort as HUMANLY POSSIBLE. If I had known, lol, that I’d have a whole week off – man! I would’ve accomplished sooooo much more. I would have cleaned out the fridge, painted my kitchen cabinets, and laundered the linens on all five beds. Instead I ate Cheez-its, drooled on my pillow, and junked up on Dr. Phil. My mind grew as soft as the Playdoh my kids had dropped all over the family room carpet. Meh.
But Friday, January 24, I showered. I dressed. I did the hair and makeup. And I met Brandy at Capital Ale House for a sip before we embarked on the 24-Hour Project. Did we make it the whole 24 hours? Pffffffft. Heck no. For one, we got started a couple hours late. Two, I’d reverted to such an infantile condition that week that I worried what might happen if I wasn’t back in bed with a Binky by 11pm. So… this is a recount of what we actually saw.
When we got to the Capital Ale House that evening, the bartender immediately asked if we were responsible for “those love notes.” Did you see any of those? Someone (and no, it wasn’t us) sent love notes to local businesses. We could tell – based on handwriting and content analysis – that the notes came from a group of people. Creative people. People who could write a love note using the phrase “bloodless corpse” (Midtowne Market’s note). Dragonflies Toys and the Yellow Button also received notes, among other businesses. And Capital Ale House got this one:
What a nice ray of sunshine in that dreary week! Ah, Burg. You are so loved!
More evidence of Burg love: the attendance of and participation in that evening’s main event. The 24-Hour Project welcomed 46 acts (more than 200 performers!) who gave of their talents and time to put the Harrisonburg arts community to an “endurance test.” Could a theater stay open for 24 hours straight, managing back-to-back performances, patrons who arrived at all hours, and their own sleep deprivation? Yes. Could artists of all kinds get themselves to the theater and deliver a quality performances at any ungodly hour? Yes. Would patrons be so excited by the variety of performances that they would stay awake and attend the event for 24 full hours? Yes. And this 24-hour period is merely a microcosm of our arts community and the endurance needed to continually promote it and grow it.
We arrived at the theater, got a couple beverages, and found empty seats on the front row. I leafed through the program and read the descriptions of the performers. Some were quite intriguing, like Chris Howdyshell’s invitation to take a shower. Or Akota Chase: “the place you find yourself after drinking just enough to realize you’ve been conversing with the devil.” Or Crab Action, who managed to include “corpse paint,” “space opera,” and “uplifting” in their 40-word description.
First up for us was the JMU Horn Society, who for thirty minutes soothed and entertained us with several French horn pieces… from Handel’s Watermusik to a more playful number, “Hide and Seek.” In fact, JMU was quite involved with the Project, contributing eight performances and more than three hours of entertainment.
Bourbon Barrel Congress hit the stage next, and if you haven’t seen these guys perform, you need to find out when you can and make arrangements. THEY ARE SO GOOD. Ethan Hawkins’ voice made me want to sob during the first number… sadness tinged with a weeeee bit of anger/vengeance/romantic tension: “I want you so bad… I want you so bad.” But then Chris Davis sang. Lordy. “I put some whiskey into my whiskey, I put some heartbreak in my heart” and that whole mournful thang. JUST STOP IT. We were mildly confused when they sang “Nothing Gets You Down Like Your Hometown”… Brandy pointed out that they must be from Staunton. Wamp! Good one!
Luke Gibson and friends were… well, hilarious. I laughed continuously for their 15-minute set, even during the “uncomfortable silence” advertised in the program. At times he stood, at times he sat, at times other people came on stage… he joked about the stress of having to perform, his math teacher who sells drugs (it’s a JOKE, people), and delayed sentiments leading to heartache… None of that sounds funny as I read over it now. I guess you had to be there.
I probably won’t adequately express how, ahem, funny Ivan Christo was, either, during his stand-up routine. He joked about how Virginia is just North Carolina upside down, what if hats could talk, and how some jokes only make sense in Wilmington, and his props (a piece of neon green poster board) added a much-needed element of awkwardness :) Punchlines included “drop your drawers,” “bald beagle,” and “it’s freakin meowt.”
Dead Professional (aka John Harouff, aka the guy who’s also in Cinnamon Band) is just awesome. He does this thing with drum loops and two vocal tracks and his guitar. He harmonizes with himself. It’s part trickeration and part sheer talent… except it’s no trick: he’s responsible for all the sounds… playing music with his hands and feet and heart and lungs, all by himself.
It was getting kinda late and my Playdoh mind was wandering. Do musicians ever, during a performance, just get tired of singing? I mean, I love to sing, but I never sing for ninety minutes because I run out of hot water after like thirty. I also sing in the car while my kids cringe in the backseat. And even that’s never longer than thirty minutes or so… and even still I find myself saying, “Man, singing makes me tired!” Maybe I’m just doing it wrong.
The last performance I saw on Friday night was Medicine Calf. They are the loudest two people I’ve ever heard. And I mean that in the best of ways. The drummer played with those giant Q-tip things, and the brushy things – I love that sound. I loved their complicated rhythms and tempos; I heard tones of Pink Floyd and Radiohead at times, and at other times, I’m not exactly sure what happened. But they were phenomenal.
I got in the car. I was bushed. I thought about the many long hours ahead for the theater staff, volunteers, and performers. I thought how committed and caffeinated they must be. I resolved to return the next day, kids and all. There was too much good stuff; I didn’t want to miss more than I had to.
Growing an arts community isn’t easy. Many people have forgotten that art is a natural part of daily life. It brings depth and meaning to the rest of life. It softens the demands of work. The stress of family. The pinch of finances. Art suspends time, and that suspension is about as good for the soul as anything. After a long day of work, it’s sometimes hard to go back out just to see a couple paintings or a performance. But once there, you are infused with such energy that you want to return soon for more. And that’s why, after a week of Cheez-its and Dr. Phil, I NEEDED to get into that theater for an infusion. The arts cannot be looked upon as extra-curricular, as something one enjoys on a special occasion, or something reserved for those of a particular class. Harrisonburg works hard to provide regular, affordable access to all forms of art, and that work – the constant fundraising and promotion and creation – takes a level of endurance many communities just don’t have. Thankfully, our community does have it.
Stay tuned for the story of Saturday’s performances at Court Square Theater.
Copyright © 2012 – 2014 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers.This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
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Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
They showed up in uniform, if you count suspenders, the color blue, leather shoes, and facial hair as a uniform. And possibly the last name Yoder.
Well, except for the ladies, of course. But only in the facial hair category. You’d expect a group of people in uniform to work together toward a common goal. All there for the same purpose, performing as a team, complementing each other. And this past Friday, the Walking Roots Band delivered on that expectation. Brandy and I were privileged to have attended their CD pre-release concert — a celebration of their long-awaited album Carry Your Heart.
This eight-piece outfit squeezed themselves and their arsenal of instruments into the far end of Greenberry’s Coffee Co. for a cozy performance in front of roughly a hundred onlookers of all ages. We all sat elbow-rubbing close to one another, and the band members huddled naturally around an old-timey microphone. For a couple of friendly, heart-warming, and sentimental hours, we enjoyed the musical symmetry of Seth Crissman, Jackson Maust, Adam Schmid, Greg & Kristina Yoder, Lauren & Mitch Yoder, and Michael Yoder.
Just as their uniform was likely unintentional, they seem to play off one another as if by instinct rather than rehearsal. They’re obviously very giving people — during the introductions I learned that they’re all teachers and nurses and philanthropic types with qualities reflected in the music they write. They write about humanity: about God and love, dancing and freedom and nature, but also pain and suffering and loneliness — all parts of life’s grand song. Their voices oblige each other in delicate harmonies about bein’ poor and country girls and moonshine and honey. They sing about havin’ money (or not havin’ it) in a Partridge Family-esque ditty: “little things mean the most, and the little things are free.” And they steer from negativity, even in humorous ways: “You can take your sorry glasses…”
At one point they conducted an informal sound check by simply asking the audience if everything sounded okay. Someone yelled, “More bass!” and Jackson quickly suggested the spectator move to the seat right in front. :) Adam sang a song about the one who got away… a song he admitted he didn’t fully understand, because the one he wanted didn’t get away: his dear Katie.
Out of nowhere, amid an accordion, a harmonica, a mandolin, and other such instruments, came a rap song with full-on gesturing called “Sweater Weather.” Yes, it was funny and most certainly a crowd pleaser… but I don’t know. I see some real crossover possibilities, what with Greg lookin’ all Eminem-ish and the rest of the group channeling Dobie Gray in the chorus.
Then Adam totally shifted gears when he sang a song about dying. He first asked us, “Do you want to hear a sad song, or one about how love can really mess with a man?” Uhhh… is there a difference? And the sad song was sad, yes, about someone who’s ill and dealing with the confinement of pain, suffering, and regret, who’s “wishin’ to feel free,” but who also takes solace in knowing he’s “goin’ home to Jesus.” Hope is an ingredient of every one of their songs.
They continued, singing about community and apiaries, moonlit meadows, and gratitude. They played three songs from their “Sacred Songs” project. In one of them, they combine three Psalms from three centuries. The kids especially liked “The Gardening Song” which tells the tale of a wascally wabbit who eats the farmers greens, and the fox who kills the hens, and the bear who steals the honey… and the farmer who recognizes they’re just doin’ what they do. After that, it was nudging bedtime for our little ones, and we left the warm cafe, condensation running down the windows, and stepped out into the chill night, happy.
Now, go like these folks on Facebook so you’ll be informed when they’re performing nearby again. They’ll warm you up!
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Does anyone else feel like Nature’s just a wee bit disorganized this winter?
Sheesh. We had that bizarre monsoon last week, followed by a little snow, more rain, wind, rain again, now an “arctic blast” with crack-your-face-in-half wind chills, and later this week it’ll be in the fifties?? Come on!
Meanwhile, my daughter has come down with some horrible virus that doctors can’t identify. I mean, she’s okay… she’s going to be fine… but how much snot can one tiny nose manufacture?? And the fever!! Jeepers!
And because I’m frustrated and need someone to blame, I BLAME THE WEATHER. Get your act together, Winter! Anyway, to help you feel somewhat organized, here’s a list of what’s happening in the Burg this week. Remember, you can email me here (katie@ilovemyburg.com) or send me a FB invitation and I’ll be happy to include your local event on the Happynings page. But you gotta do it by Saturday of the week before your event.
Have a great week, everyone! Stay warm! and then cool. and dry. or whatever — may you be comfortable!
i love my burg. 