strategery.
still trying to think of a caption for this one.
tony’s gonna get poked, crushed, or pummeled.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
There’s something about improvisational comedians that appeals to us all. Maybe it’s that we’re impressed by how quick on the trigger they are. Maybe it’s that they are MacGyvers of comedy, creating humor out of some random words, a feather boa, a Q-tip, and a plunger. Still maybe it’s that they find themselves squirming in the most uncomfortable situations but manage to emerge without anything exploding. Or perhaps it’s that improv comedy is a reflection of life itself–the beautifully strange daily occurrences in all our lives.We are all improv comedians (or tragedians) in that way.
Still, it’s fun to go out and see people act ridiculous.
On a warm May evening, Brandy and I took her kids to see a performance by No Strings Attached, Harrisonburg’s own improv comedy troupe. The performance was at Plan B, a cute, little BIG coffee house in Broadway. I was glad to finally see that place. Spacious and comfortable, it houses a mix of modern and vintage mid-century furnishings, two bars, a toy area for kids (or whomever, really), and a cozy fireplace. They also display lots of local artwork–some for sale–and they use real plates, mugs, and silverware–nothing disposable. It just feels good in there.
No Strings Attached, starring (on this night) Rachel Jenner, Tony Lopez, James Oates, Steve McClay, Jeremiah Meadows, and Gbenga Adekunle, took the stage at about 7pm for a two-hour set and were introduced by an employee of the establishment who sat at the sound booth. Brandy had a weird Wizard of Oz moment as she looked around for the source of that voice. “…Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.” Except there were no flames or any giant, misshapen, green heads.
Rachel explained a few things to the spectators. First, all their material is unrehearsed and supplied by the audience. Second, they often ask for volunteers to assist on stage, and she insisted that “if we ask for volunteers, it’s to make us look stupid, not you.” Hm. I happen to believe in “stupid by association,” but okay.
Then the show started. And although I’ve seen them before, I’m familiar with what they do, and I was all equipped with my notebook and pen, I’ve never tried to take notes at one of their performances–and it was a nightmare. Everything happened and changed so fast, and nothing made sense for more than like a minute and by the time I wrote anything down, it had morphed into something else, plus I kept getting distracted by the performance itself, PLUS I was laughing my butt off at times… so my notes are but a random collection of… weirdness. Like, “Remember that dog that was licking on it?” And, “Why am I supporting his head? He’s dead.”
???
I remember that those two lines came from the same skit, but I have no idea what the skit was about.
My favorite part of the night was a charades-like game where the group asked the audience for two adjectives and two nouns. They got “transcendental” and “photogenic,” and “dog” and “sponge.” The group divided into two teams. One team had to mime “photogenic dog” to Gbenga and get him to say it, and the other had to act out “transcendental sponge” and get Steve to guess it. WHAT?! And as they guessed out loud at each other, Steve and Gbenga were actually hurling really bizarre insults at one another. Now, get ready to write some of these down for future use:
“You’re modular.”
“You’re circular.”
“You’re a transcendentalist square.”
“You’re a transcendentalist nerd.”
“You’re a fixture.” ???
“You’re a person that’s not a king.”
“You get smaller and you go through the air and your eye pops out.”
Okay, so maybe you had to be there.
Steve, puh-leeeeez UNDERSTAND this!
Somehow Steve got “transcendental sponge” before Gbenga guessed “photogenic dog.” Here’s how to act out “transcendental,” in case you ever need to:
1) Act like a train. (trans)
2) Hold up ten fingers. (cen)
3) Act like you’re at the dentist. (dental)
Voila!
And for sponge:
1) Pretend to wash dishes.
2) Pretend to wash a car.
3) Pretend to wash a dog.
4) Act out an ocean floor scene.
5) Get frustrated.
6) Do lots of squeezing motions with your hands.
7) When your partner STILL doesn’t get it (ugh, Steve!!), do lunges, and somehow that’ll work.
I’m sure between the photos and this entry you have a crystal clear picture of what to expect when you go see No Strings Attached. Ha. Catch them on Harrisonburg’s next First Friday at Downtown 34, and be sure to like them on Facebook to stay informed of other upcoming performances. Prepare to giggle, snort, cringe, guffaw, squirm, gasp, and possibly even sneeze. I’m sure it’ll be excruciatingly uncomfortable and side-splittingly funny for all involved!
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Valley 4th Run starts at 9am on Wednesday, July 4. You can register online til June 29, but if you want a T-shirt, register by June 18. Whatcha waitin’ for??
beer garden following the run!
Saw lots of happy folks at the promo party! 
Hi, Kai and Kevin!
Ella and Nicole. Precious!
fuelin’ up for the race.
stay tuned for a few more pics tomorrow!
Harrisonburg is so awesome that Brandy and I will never run out of material for this blog. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we feel–not as bloggers, but simply as citizens–a slight pressure at times because there are soooo many things to do here–some are well-established traditions, and some are fledgling endeavors–all spearheaded by super creative, ambitious people and attended by an active and supportive community. And that’s the formula right there: ideas + support = action. We have a lot of “action figures” in this town.
A week ago, Brandy and I and the four kiddos attended a promo party at Capital Ale House for a brand-new Harrisonburg event, the Valley 4th Run. Also in attendance were Anna and Greg Pelletier with their sweet baby boy (I was so glad to hold that little bugger. He’s adorable, and cuddling an infant every once in a while quells my impulse to have another of my own.) In fact, there were lots of people with kids at the promo party, so I didn’t feel too awkward about mine being there… until the bartender had to tell them to quit running around so much. Eeeek. Brandy and I herded them into the empty room adjacent to us so no one else would have to witness their naughtiness.
adjacent room antics.
I was starving, so we sat down with a beer and an appetizer. Live music was provided by Colin Wright and his guitar. We later learned that he’s part of a group called Doctors Without Borders, and he was in the ‘burg for just a few days between assignments (another H’burg action figure). Anyway, we nibbled, enjoyed the music, and mingled with some of the many folks who came in to sign up for the Run.
We also got to chat with one of the Valley 4th Run action figures, Kevin Gibson. Created by Kevin, Alan Maynard, Jackie Walsh, Marcus Bartley, and Laura Babcock, the Valley 4th Run offers area runners three distances–one mile, 5K, or 10K–and five charities to choose from: Harrisonburg Downtown Renaissance; Harrisonburg/ Rockingham United Way; DR 100; Rockingham/Harrisonburg SPCA; and the RMH Foundation.
Kevin Gibson, Action Figure.
All of the races are contained in the area between the monument in front of Harrisonburg Baptist Church, and Chanello’s Pizza, near the Local Chop and Grill House. Here’s a map of the routes if you want more detail. Kevin plans to line the routes with four or five local bands, encouraging fans, and maybe even some cheerleaders. If you’d like to help with sideline activity, contact Kevin–I’m sure he’d appreciate the volunteers. The race ends at Turner Pavilion, just in time for Beers ‘N Cheers in the Park (race participants get a beer and hotdog ticket!), AND, if you want to make a day of it downtown, you can stick around for the Valley 4th parade and fireworks! Could you even imagine a better day in Harrisonburg? Geez–it’s almost too awesome. So this Fourth of July, get out of the rat race and run for someone else’s life that day. Let’s make this event a Harrisonburg tradition!
gettin’ pumped.
running is good for you.
Like I’ve said before, something strange always happens.
It was a spur-of-the-moment plan. The air was thick, and the day was hotter than two cats fighting in a wool sock. Still a week before Westover Pool opens, and the kids and I were craving water. The sprinkler–even the fancy one with twelve settings–just wasn’t gonna cut it.
So I decided to take the kids to Riven Rock Park for a cool dip in the river. I texted Brandy, and she agreed to meet us there with Blake and Ella after they finished up at a friend’s birthday party. We got there first. The park was busy. Not overly crowded, but lively. Lots of families with the same idea.
So you’ve read a few paragraphs now and might be wondering, “Where the heck are the photos??” Well, you see… about that…
Brandy and her kids arrived. We saw them pull in and ran to greet them. And amidst the hugs “hello” and the retrieval of bags and towels and such from her car, she–woopsie–locked her keys and phone (a.k.a, the “river camera”) in the trunk. You KNOW that oh-my-gosh-i’m-a-complete-idiot-i-can’t-believe-i-just-did-that feeling. We’ve all had it. In fact, one time I flushed all my keys down a public toilet. It SUCKS, that feeling. Then she remembered her spare key, tucked up under the car somewhere. See? It pays to think of these things. Only the key was severely eroded and bent, and it nearly broke off in the door lock (but it didn’t, thank heavens!), and so we were back to that horrible hyphenated feeling. <sigh> Seeing as how we were all there, and the kids were dying to get in the water, and even with my phone we couldn’t have called anyone because we were out of cell range, and it was just too darn hot to stand there and worry about it, we decided to enjoy some time there and deal with it later.
Our first plunge into the frigid water involved lots of slipping and falling and shrieks and giggles. For some reason that now escapes my memory, we decided to cross the river (not very wide, maybe thirty feet, and only shin deep), and I swear it took half an hour to help four kids teeter across. Then–yep–we had to go back across. Still, along the way we saw a crawdad or two and some minnows, and we were refreshed by the cool water, the warm sun, and the beautiful surroundings. After that tiring endeavor, we got out and hiked up the trail a bit. On the way back down, Brandy spotted a place where a calm, three-feet deep pool had formed, surrounded by nice trees and rock formations and some mild rapids downriver from us. Blake and Bree jumped right in and were able to swim around. Cal is a bit short and couldn’t touch the bottom, so I hauled that fifty-pound boy up on my hip and used a giant stick (a branch, really) to balance myself on the slippery river bottom. We were going along just fine until Cal got wiggly, and I got slightly off kilter and lost my footing… and then lost one flip flop… and then lost my stick. By now Cal had practically climbed on top of my head to get to safety, but thankfully, my feet found a grip and we were all fine. Sheesh.
So it was time to finally deal with the car situation… the kids were tired and starving (and the adults, too), and we’d all had enough sun. The car thing turned out to be no big deal at all. We piled into my car and drove back into cell phone range, called AAA, let the kids play on a playground while we waited (not long at all), drove back to the park, got the car unlocked, swung by Beyond for some sushi (by the way, I realized on the way to Beyond that I was wearing a bikini top and a wet skirt. Woops. I actually called to see if they just wanted to meet me in the street, but they were cool with it.), picked up some pizza, came back to my house and enjoyed a very much deserved feast on my deck. Hence, these photos–the only proof you have that any of this actually took place.
okay, so imagine we are standing on the bank of the river, and not on my front porch.
sooooo freakin’ hungry.
gone in like ten minutes.
a warm spring evening on the deck.
all that worry and sweat and she’s still this pretty.
konked out before she even got home.
So, you’ll have to visit Riven Rock Park and see for yourself. Just be careful not to lock yourself out of your car, slip on the rocks, or lose your stick. But even if you do, it’ll still be a great day.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
The rain didn’t dampen any spirits!
It was a day of music, singing, and dancing; of froth and foam and cheers-ing; of sideways rain and tropical-storm winds gusting; of sunshine and warmth and rainbows shining; of laughter and smiles and happy loving; of food and friends and mud-stained frolicking… it was, quite simply, a perfect day. The most wonderful day of the year. The day of the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival.
From 2:30 til 9pm on April 21st, throngs of music-loving, beer-craving people of all ages, from tiny tots to retirees, college girls and frat boys to yuppies, hippies, parents, and all the rest, assembled at the Turner Pavilion to sample beer from 30 breweries, hear music from Yarn, the No BS! Brass Band, and The War on Drugs, and nibble freshly prepared dishes from the Joshua Wilton House, Jack Brown’s, Dave’s Taverna, Billy Jack’s, Clementine, and Hank’s Barbeque.
Having purchased our tickets ahead of time (the event sold out earlier that week), getting into the festival was a snap and much more efficient than last year (not that last year was inefficient… just sayin’). While we were still in line in front of the municipal building, volunteers came along and checked our IDs, took our tickets, and installed our wristbands.
The gates opened and everyone just walked in, easy-peasy. We received our mugs and programs and although we both wanted to make a bee line to the beer vendors, we decide to lug our stuff to the grass and get set up. We knew the weather forecast; at this point it was sunny and gorgeous, and Brandy wanted to take as many photos as she could before the rain came.
The No BS Brass Band was on first, and although I really didn’t know much about them before the festival, I really really liked them. Especially the number that sounded like something the Ladies Man might sing to a lady friend over a glass of courvoisier. I also enjoyed the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “The Ocean.”
Next up was Yarn, and it was during this performance, if I’m not mistaken, that the rains came. People go absolutely crazy for Yarn. The band is so happy and high energy, people just start moving and spinning around, almost like a flash mob. There they all are, innocently milling around, and at the first note by Yarn, everyone’s in front of the stage boogying down.
We watched as clouds ominously advanced. We were armed with extra clothes, a rain jacket, and two umbrellas. Other things to remember to bring or wear to an all-day festival: chapstick. Sunscreen. A hat. Comfy underpants. Eh. Anyway, when the rain started, we decided (I forget why) to stay in our seats on the lawn. Brandy stuffed her camera under her shirt (the lens hung out the bottom and it was kinda funny looking–hee hee!) and we huddled under umbrellas in our seats. Brandy couldn’t resist sneaking the camera out a few times to take some shots of how ridiculous the rain was. I mean, we were drenched. Wringing wet.
I remember screaming. It was somehow raining upwards, under the umbrellas. And then we finally decided to run under the pavilion with the other 2998 people. It was packed. I remember thinking, “Man, the fire marshal would NOT like this.” Except that we were outside. And it was raining.
Snakes of people slithered through the crowd to reach beer vendors for a refill. This is where trust becomes important. In any situation involving crowds and a small space, I usually wonder how long it’ll be before someone goes psycho and causes some kind of ruckus. But here, in our friendly city, nothing like that occurred. Everyone was patient and happy and kind, and polite–lots of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s and “woopsie”s, and one girl who kept repeating the word “willow” to us. We tried so hard to understand what she meant so we could help her or answer her.
Then, because we were wet, we were cold. Rachel Jenner and Brandy had to help me figure out how to put on a shirt under my wet shirt, and leggings on under my soaked skirt, without completely disrobing in front of everyone. I never would have accomplished it without them. At any rate, the rain stopped, the music continued, the beer flowed, and we were all warm and fuzzy again before too long. And you know? When there’s a mud puddle nearby, everyone becomes the same age: four and a half. Brandy and I did not slide belly down through the mud puddle pool (although we did let our feet get quite squishy), but we loved watching everyone else get down and dirty. We saw children splashing and dancing in the mud; we witnessed the destruction of many gorgeous sundresses worn by young women who lost their footing; we watched a grandma fall allll the way down, onto her back, and still get up and keep dancing with the grandkids! We loved it! Every single moment, every droplet of mud, every smile and person there… we loved it all. Our city.
By now, The War on Drugs had hit the stage. What a treat they were. They were a great pick-me-up for weary revelers, re-energizing the crowd as the sun went down. Honestly, all three bands were fantastic, and the combination of bands couldn’t have been better. Just before sundown–a rainbow. Can I get a “hallelujah”?!
Later as we walked to the Nile to see Cinnamon Band, we talked about the day–the people, the fun, the spirit, and yes–the beer. What did we like best about the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival? Everything. Everything.
Already looking forward to next year! Stay tuned all week for more photos from the Fest!
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Something strange always happens.
Brandy and I were excited to attend the invitation-only pre-grand opening on April 18 of Bongo Restaurant and Lounge on South Main Street in Harrisonburg. We were greeted at the door by a friendly hostess who pointed us in the direction of the bar. Once settled on our stools, we ordered a couple of drinks and started chatting it up. Servers carried trays of appetizers around the busy restaurant while people mingled, laughed, and enjoyed themselves. It was a very comfortable atmosphere.
I turned to grab a quesadilla from one server’s tray when I heard her say, “Ms. Mitchell! I haven’t seen you in years!” It was Jordan, a former student of mine from way back when. I was instantly reminded of the time she helped me break up a fight between two kids at my school years ago…. Scratch that, she didn’t help me—she did it single-handedly while I stood there helplessly screaming, “Ladies!” at the two girls rolling around on the floor outside my classroom. It was a strange scene—the two girls were engaged in an all-out brawl complete with eye gouging and hair pulling… in total silence. It was like two mimes fighting. I asked a male student nearby to help me break it up and he just smiled and said, “No way.” Heh heh. And just when I was going to push the red oh-dear-Lord-someone-get-down-here-and-help-me button on the wall, Jordan sailed in (in my memory, she’s glowing and moving in slow motion) and ripped them off of each other. When I got back from walking the two girls up to the office, I noticed clumps of hair all over the floor. Ick. After that school year, I didn’t see Jordan again until this night. Small world.
Originally Lloyd’s Steakhouse (and same owners), Bongo serves traditional American classics and Latin American food. To guarantee a successful reinvention of the establishment, they hired celebrity chef Ricardo Cardona to shape the menu and train the staff. Hailing from New York City where he serves as head chef to the New York Yankees and owns four Manhattan restaurants, Cardona brings twenty-five years of experience and skill to our friendly city. He even stars in the TV show Mission Menu, and Brandy and I got to interview him!!
But first we settled in at the bar to sample the goods. The all-girl bar staff offered three specialty drinks—a margarita, Bongo Punch, and sangria—as well as a few varieties of beer and wine. As this was their preliminary opening, they had a limited menu, but now their menu (they serve lunch and dinner) is extensive and they have a full bar. For their complete menu, visit the Bongo web site. We nibbled on all sorts of lovelies prepared by Chef Cardona, including chicken quesadillas with guacamole and sour cream; chicken and beef empanadas (what happy, puffy triangles!); the Bongo burger; meat on a stick with barbeque sauce; and chicken skewers, with which I managed to stab my tonsil. By the end of our binge we had quite a collection of sharp, pointy sticks, but before Brandy could get a photo, our conscientious bartender scooped ‘em all up.
Before long we were invited into the kitchen to meet Chef Cardona. We didn’t want to bring all our purses and raincoats and such into the kitchen, so we left our seats at the bar and asked a group of strangers to watch our stuff. Eh. It is the Friendly City, after all.
We introduced ourselves. “I do the photos!” Brandy announced. “I do the writing!” I added. And Chef Cardona replied, “I do the cooking… and the yelling!” He was a bit busy, so Brandy took a few photos and we got out of his hair.
A bit later he was able to sit down with us in a separate room, the lounge. The lounge is a really large room with an urban, swanky feel. A long
bar runs along the front half of the room with tons of seating in an adjacent dining area; the back half of the room is a spacious dance floor and a DJ booth. They host dance parties on Thursday and Friday nights—Thursday nights are for college students only—and Latin dancing on Saturday nights.
We were so excited to sit down with Chef Cardona, although he had just a few minutes before he had to get back to the kitchen. He explained to us that his role at Bongo is that of consultant. He lives in New York, where, as mentioned earlier, he owns several restaurants but also consults with other restaurants in hopes of improving them, which is the premise for his upcoming show, Mission Menu. The show’s five cast members, including Cardona, find restaurants in need of help and overhaul their menus to bring in new life and flavor. Cardona has done this for Bongo, too. He consults with the Bongo staff on a bi-weekly basis to help them consistently provide delicious and interesting food and build a strong customer base.
Since he’s spent so much time in the Burg, we had to ask him… “What’s your favorite restaurant here?” (Other than Bongo, of course.) He hedged a bit, stating that we have many, many wonderful restaurants (yay, Burg!!!), but his favorite is Clementine, with Beyond getting “high marks,” too. Ya can’t argue with that, can ya, Praserth?
So after lots of delicious food and a fun chat with the chef, it was time for us to call it a night. Thanks, Bongo, for the lovely evening. Visit them soon at 2455 South Main next to Kline’s Dairy Bar, open Tuesday through Thursday til 9pm, and Friday through Sunday til 2am.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
No matter where we go, people are the best part of the experience.
hi, rachel :)
look out!
other storytellers.
our favorite people of all.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
pregame strategizing.
excuse me.
don’t be fooled by the pink laces.
in all their glory.
truce.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Happy Mother’s Day to us, to our moms, and to all you moms out there! Hope your day is filled with fun, peace, relaxation, and a drink with an umbrella sticking out of it.
Here’s the reason we get to celebrate this holiday:
And the reason we get to celebrate anything in the first place, our moms:
Mom and katie’s sistas!
Mom and brandy’s sistas!
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
This one’s for the girls.
Girls are tough. They feed their young and maintain a pretty nest. They wipe noses, tears, and butts. They fight stains, pork rind cravings, and monsters in the closet. They make sure everyone leaves the house wearing clothes and on time. Or close, anyway. They work long hours to provide, then get home with still enough energy to make a casserole that hits all the food groups. Yes—cheese is a food group. They comfort their friends and fix their bosses’ screw ups. And, in the case of these ladies, on the weekend, they put on their skates, strap on their helmets, and face a different battle. Yeah, baby. Roller derby.
Dressed in orange, green, and black shirts and assorted varieties of torn stockings and tight shorts, these sixteen ladies roared onto the wood like a pack of lionesses. For an hour and twenty minutes, they donned new identities—like Frida KillAho, Problem Child, and Revenga d’Nerd—to challenge opponents from Charlotte like Double Deck Her and Katch Her in the Rye. The music that echoed across Funky’s during warmups was all girl power: Beyonce’s “Run the World,” “Say My Name” by Destiny’s Child, and Brandy’s favorite, “You Give Love a Bad Name.” When it came on, she told me how she and her nanny used to play a game in the car called “I Hum, You Guess.” Inevitably one of them always hummed that Bon Jovi song. And… the other guessed it. It was their thing.
We had the four kids with us, and they were having their own private dance party on the carpeted area behind our chairs. So, inspired by tough women, nostalgic music, content kids, and lively spectators, we cracked open a couple of PBRs. We live a good life. Before the bout started, we all stood for the national anthem, and of course, just as soon as the place fell silent, I blurted loudly, “Where the heck is the flag?!” I apologize to anyone who was within earshot of that. Which was pretty much everyone.
Then the bout started. It was at this moment that I realized I knew NOTHING about this sport. I really should have done some research ahead of time. Here’s how it worked, according to my observation: The ladies on both teams skated in a circle. One of them tried to break through the others. Some people fell down. The refs pointed at people. Then the scoreboard changed. The End.
Thankfully, the Rocktown Rollers provide a program with a page called “What the Heck’s Going On?” After reading it I determined I was mostly right, except the two ladies who try to pass the others are called “jammers,” and they have stars on their helmets. They compete to see who can pass the pack the most times in two minutes. That’s how they score points.
Now that that’s all cleared up…
I also learned from the program that the Rocktown Rollers donate five percent of ticket sales to the Reading Roadshow all season long, and fifteen percent of ticket sales for home bouts to Friendship Industries. And then, I saw it: an announcement for Rocktown Rollers Fresh Meat Tryouts. I have to say, I did some serious skating in middle school, and now that I’m nearly forty, participating in a contact sport would be quite gratifying. I consider myself to be more of a lover than a fighter, yes, but I think I’ve got enough gumption and pent-up pain that I could do it. So I’ve officially added it to my lifelong dream list, along with being a back-up singer and seeing Pink Floyd in concert (dang it!).
Despite my having an Austin Powers moment trying to park at that place (and I drive a hybrid, people. It’s about as big as a soybean.), Brandy and I had a blast watching those ladies put aside their responsibilities and worries for a couple of hours, locking arms against a threat like gals are wont to do.
The next home bout for the Rocktown Rollers is June 10, at Funky’s Skate Center, against the Mason-Dixon Roller Vixens. Bring the whole family and get there early so you can be close to the action.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
Before you see these photos, I want to say what a distinct pleasure it is to work with Brandy. She is so incredibly talented and I am constantly inspired by her. Her photos not only reflect her abilities with a camera and her love for this town, but also her giant and genuine heart. That said, prepare to be blown away.
The Yellow Button. Harrisonburg, Virginia.
Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.
i love my burg. 