outskirts: life and times in charlottesville

Since it was officially announced that smokers kill people I can now report on any terrorists (aka smokers, killers, etc.) I see here in the village. Of course, I would rapidly run out of energy trying to do this, since 1/3 of all people seem to smoke (based on statistics of walking in the downtown mall region).

It would be a true f*-ing miracle if a single place would ban smoking at outdoor eateries, but not one place seems to have any gumption. Tonight at one popular martini bar a group of hideous Virginian women sat down at the table next to me (the accent made me want to puke) and lit up. They were celebrating a 40th b-day. They looked at least 65. I’ll post several actual photos of them later this weekend…but this photo give a good representation.

The stupidity of the south continues to boggle me. I should really be used to it by now. Maybe I should start smoking one cig every 20 minutes. That would make me a lot smarter…so smart I might be able to call myself a Virginian…or whatever they call themselves down here (promoter of cancer, spreader of carcinogens, killer of children, IQ eradicator,…hard to say which is best).

As the historic pedestrian mall prepares to celebrate its 30th anniversary, some particle board numbers have been sitting in an alley all week. Anyone that has the energy can walk up to these and do most anything that would be fun. It seems as if the local stores are putting their name and founding date on the 0. The three seems to use a font from the typewriter days. As someone said, “That sure is an ugly 3.”

Drop by and visit my photos to see these exciting numbers.

I figured I would point out two words. Pedestrian and historic. There are two roads on this pedestrian mall. History comprises 30 years. Enough said…for the moment.

OK…put those three items together in one sentence and certain things may pop in to your mind, but here in C-Ville the funniest story of the week has to be this one:

Charlottesville police are on the hunt for a man who assaulted another man at a block party on Graves Street.

If you saw a man swinging a belt with a large buckle and screaming wildly on June 18 call Crime Stoppers.

Now…back to thinking about how safe our streets are as you walk through town.

For those that snap a photo every now and then, don’t miss the C-Ville Summer Photo Contest where you can try to show summertime in the village. Three categories: people, places, and things. Deadline is July 7…so start snapping.

Maybe I’ll take a picture of the alley I sleep in on occasion…you know..that one that is hip deep in junk by the mall.

There are a lot of good photographers around here, so I’ll bet there will be some good submissions. One guy did a show at the Mudhouse a number of months ago, and if he snapped a few shots here in town I have a feeling he would win.

Looks like Surgeon General Richard Carmona has decided that second hand smoke kills children. When smoking is banned, nothing bad happens to the hospitality industry.

Get with it Virginia. Stop being the terrorists within our country. Ban smoking in public places.

A few weeks ago someone broke in to a window and try to steal a kid after duct taping his mouth shut, and now someone tried to abduct a person on the historic (30 whole years) downtown mall.

Lesson of the day, always carry a steak knife.

So I wanted to try the new Himalayan Fusion today and I headed over there with a bunch of adventurers. We got there at around 12:05 and the “Sorry we’re closed” sign was hanging in the window. There was some cooking going on in the back and we could see one person wiping tables on the inside. Since it was closed we sat there right outside the door for about five minutes before heading elsewhere.

On the way back to the office the sign now said “Come in, we’re open,” and several people were seated inside.

I’m now peeved. The least they could have done was tell us they were going to open in a few minutes. Now I’m not sure when/if I’ll try it. Bad business sense. There are still no hours on the door, and no menu. Hmm…how long will it last?

In the real world (non-web) I’m currently reading Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. I’m enjoying it. Looking around the village it is like looking at cadavers. I was recently at a summer musical at UVA (I could go on and on about how primitive/old their theater is…but will save that for a later post) and I was quite possibly the youngest person in the building. I once worked in an old age home, and that couldn’t compare to what I saw at the show.

Anyway, in the virtual world of the web I stumbled across a great blog which rips on the village in stellar fashion. The post from earlier today was superb.

Why can’t ABC get a high def station to C-Ville. On the cable front they first announced it two years ago and many got HD recorders when they pre-ordered. Those recorders are still useless, since the cable has decided not to waste their time in this shitty hell hole of a village.

The ABC station in Richmond can’t seem to keep their HDTV broadcast tower in one piece so the signal is around on some days, and gone on many others. It feels like being in Cuba during the summertime and hoping you can get some electricity for two hours every third day.

The local station is three watts, and won’t be doing HD until it is mandatory by federal rules. Unfortunately, that is never at this point. Stations do have to go digital by 2009, but that is not necessarily HD. The local ABC won’t be doing that until the day it is law.

Now, it would be great to get ABC on satellite, but the local stations, and one somewhere in the fricking hills/garbage dump of VA (aka Harrisonburg or something like that), won’t grant permission — even though there is a mountain between C-Ville and that dump and no signal makes it to our own dump.

The friendly local stations have a lovely statement on their web site that basically calls every local person a pile of scum that is not worth a dime. It says (paraphrased of course):

Remember:

1) Waivers are only granted to ‘unabomber-like’ people that live at least 500 miles from any TV station.

2) Waivers are not considered or granted for people that want a High Definition signal

3) Calling the station is not the right procedure, because you local customers are little piles of crap. Don’t call us, we really don’t care about you. We won’t grant you a waiver. No matter what. You are crap.

I’d love to watch a bit of World Cup Soccer, but I can’t. It is in some hideous low def stretched picture that can’t be watched by anyone that has ever seen a high def picture, or anyone that has been at a soccer game, or even stepped outside their house and looked at the world. It is miserable. As is this primitive stone-age village.

The locals must not care at all about the World Cup. I guess they are too busy sharpening spears so they can hunt a mammoth.

The Absolut Artini party was a bizarre event to say the least. As the time of the party was approaching I was keeping an eye on the storms that had been building all day. They were just about to hit, so I climbed in the car and proceeded to drive about four blocks to the party. Lightning was starting to pour. I had a bad feeling about the entire thing and was really tired, but I’d paid for the ticket so off I went.

As I got to the parking lot I was a bit early, but things were up and running. As I stepped out of the car the rain broke free from the clouds. Torrents of rain. Buckets. I made it in to the ix building which used to be a textile manufacturing plant. I was basically an old warehouse with many missing walls and a roof that had a few leaks.

People started trickling in. Everyone was dressed up. The bar at the center of the warehouse poured drinks at a non-stop pace throughout the evening, and the lines kept getting longer and longer. Waitrons were also walking around with trays full of martinis, so if you were lucky you could snag one as it walked by.

Several local bars had created special drinks and were competing to see which would be the most popular. Everyone got to vote for their favorite. Over the loud noise of thunder, crowds, and music I’m not sure who won things, but I seem to recall Bang won top honors.

The evening jammed, and the rain slowed. The breeze had noticeably cooled off and the long white drapes hanging from the ceiling were no longer billowing up and moving around like giant ghosts. Some of the eclectic art (beds, couches, etc. draped in lights) was surrounded by pools of water. The voting stations had been moved out of the front entrance (aka swamp), and at the end of the night the registration table was left alone within a lake. It was a fitting end as I made it home through a heavy drizzle.

Will something like this ever happen in the village again?

Lots of fun photos are up in the Artini Bash photo set on Flickr.