outskirts: life and times in charlottesville

…small town life

For those that have missed the world of economics lately, everyone is losing money. One of the big losers lately has been the New York Times (as a matter of fact, you can’t even get on one the historic downtown mall on a Sunday). It seems they are so short on money that they were forced to come to C-Ville for a travel adventure. How the mighty have fallen.

The article is entitled “36 Hours in Charlottesville,” so of course the people from NYC have to fly in to town. As we know the, C-Ville airport is 5 miles outside of town. The article starts out,

ARRIVING in Charlottesville from the lush, rural Virginia countryside, you almost feel like you’ve stepped back into ancient Rome.

Did you all know the airport is considered lush countryside? I guess based on La Guardia standards you could call the podunk airport a rural landscape, but I’d still just call it a one strip airport just past the new strip malls out on 29.

The article continues and delves in to the cutting-edge architecture. Since when is something that was done hundreds of years ago considered cutting-edge? Perhaps they were referring to the Norcross Station apartments. Those brick boxes are pretty cutting edge. So are the new ones going up by the ACAC. Boxes baby…cheap and easy to build. I hear Jefferson really loved brick boxes.

At this point I’m wondering what village they are visiting, but I continue reading (I’ve always loved horror stories).

The town’s music scene, too, has served up megastars like the Dave Matthews Band and helped to launch the modern roots-rock wave.

This line left me laughing uncontrollably on the ground. Other than the Dump Crapshawvian Band (which was the only one mentioned by name), has anything come out of C-Ville? What root-rock wave? Is that referring to banjo-pickin Deliverance style? Or is the Dump Bowel Movement Band a wave all by itself? OK…I’m waiting for more megastars. Maybe I’m one for tapping my carrot on the granite floor. Is that roots-rock?

I continue reading. They refer to the Burger King quality wine of the state and how it has made it up to Mickey D standards. It seems Virginia has learned that when making wine you should keep the hot side hot, and the cold side cold, and never dump moonshine in to the wine. They rip on TJ since he could never make any good wine here in town.

We then go in to the fun that can be had in 36 hours.

3 p.m. Go the mall. The description in the article sounds like Boulder. I wonder if they went to the right city, or just looked up Boulder on wikipedia and stole a few lines. They discuss the restored historic brick buildings. I wonder if that refers to the dilapidated brick ones next to the (former) Wachovia bank. Blocks of bird shit covered buildings. Definitely historic.

For some reason they forgot to mention beggars, smokers, banjo-pickin bums that play the same four notes over and over again, and the endless torrent of screaming babies flinging poo.

4:30 p.m. (Note: They said the mall took a full 90 minutes. In reality it takes about 10.) Make the obligatory visit to Monticello. Guess they didn’t spend much time there, since I believe it closes at 5. Perhaps they just saw that on wikipedia also. After Monticello it was off to Ash Lawn. Snooze…I fell asleep at this point and couldn’t read the next 20 words.

9 p.m. Dinner at the C-Ville restaurant, the Clifton Inn. I’ll ignore the fact that this isn’t in C-Ville. They said it feels more like Kentucky. Is that a good thing? Maybe the moonshine continued to affect the reporter.

The next day the story continues. It is now Saturday. The first thing I’ll point out is that they missed the city market, the best thing in C-Ville (sarcasm inserted here). The 15 x 25 foot parking lot becomes a thriving metropolis where women trade beads and beans, babies cry, and the Virginny accent makes people incomprehensible.

8 a.m. Wander around UVA. They point out that the color of buildings is like a polished Army shoe. I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard anyone refer to UVA with that phrase. I feel like I just watched Wag the Dog and saw shoes hanging around.

The reporter spent a full two hour at UVA. Hmm…the tours take one hour, parking takes 30 minutes, and finding the starting location of the tours takes 45 minutes. Maybe tours were shortened since they were still looking for “the Corner Killer” that day.

10 a.m. Off to the Aboriginal Art Collection. That was actually good, although it really isn’t related to C-Ville in any way. When I went there I was the only one in the building other than the guard at the door. It is rather relaxing.

1 p.m. The reporter then heads out for two hours of wine touring. They went to Culpepper. I will once again point out that this is not in C-Ville. It is not even close. With driving times thrown in, I’d say the reporter did one glass of wine and then drove back to the village.

3 p.m. Drive around the back roads and see the Waltons. OK…nothing personal, but does C-Ville like the Waltons? Did they live here in town? Ugh. The fact that this area is still considered the showcase for The Waltons and the glory of those days is sad.

7 p.m. Pallidio for dinner. Once again, not in C-Ville, and I can’t afford to go there, so I can’t comment on it. The reporter ate a poor little quail that was shot that day, topped with a corn cake.

10 p.m. Finally back, in C-Ville. The reporter heads to Miller’s because…ta da… Mr. Dave “Dumping” Matthews tended bar there. The story says it is a great place for grungy bands. If grungy means 6 pack a day I’d agree. I’m sure the reporter was forced to smoke, since it is required there. It hurts my lungs just jogging by the place. I even saw a parent teaching their 4th grader how to smoke at the outdoor seating the other day. Now that is C-Ville at its finest.

The reporter probably tried to head home at 1am but found their car locked in the parking garage which closes before all the bars and restaurants do. If the reporter had parked on the street on “the other side of the tracks” they would only have gotten a ticket, which I’m sure could have been billed to the paper. I bet they’ll learn on their next journey down here.

Sunday morning has arrived. After avoiding church traffic the reporter heads to the hills.

9 a.m. Shenandoah National Park. The reporter says,

Shenandoah’s Skyline Drive seems more like Los Angeles at rush hour.

That is pretty funny! They forgot to point out that it is always in the top ten most polluted parks in the country.

The author spent 2 hours getting from C-Ville, to the Skyline drive, and back to town. They clearly drive much faster than I do and didn’t get out of the car.

11 a.m. Bluegrass Grill and Bakery.

Not much nouveau cuisine here.

Once again, that line cracks me up. The reporter discusses the biscuits which each have an “entire stick of butter” in them. They point out you’ll probably sit around for ages waiting for one of the three tables to open up.

And that was it. The reporter then headed back to NYC. Something tells me he was thanking some deity as he got to climb back on the plane and get out of this area.

Now, what does all this cost for a couple to visit C-Ville for 36 hours? The reporter kept us informed along the way.

Airfare: $1000
Hotel: $410 (two nights)
Dinner: $150
Wine: $10
Dinner: $200
Brunch: $35

Total: $1805 (which is just $50.13/hour)

A few miscellaneous expenses were left out, so I’m guess places like Miller’s provided some free booze and snacks so they would get mentioned in the article.

What did I learn from this story? Price of 36 hours in C-Ville…$1805. Reading through the sarcasm infused in the article…priceless.

I think I’ll do a travel article about 36 hours in C-Ville for $5/day, so stay tuned…

OK…this is a fantasy, thus it will never happen. I’m sure locals will do everything in their power to keep this from ever happening. We don’t like roads that lead out of town. We don’t like outsiders. We don’t like those from “the north.” (For some reason I sure see a lot of bumper stickers saying the south will rise again.)

But at least one or two people are talking about a train to civilization running every single day.

The train will come, tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow, there’ll be trains
Jus’ thinkin’ about, tomorrow
Clears away the TJ hos and the waldos
’til there’s none

When i’m stuck with the day that’s gray and southern
I just stick out my chin and grin and say, ohhh

The train will come, tomorrow
So you gotta hang on ’til tomorrow
Come what may…

The Virginny politicians continue to be boggled by how to ban smoking in bars and restaurants. Other places such as California, Colorado, NYC, France, Ireland,… seem to have no problem with this. Unfortunately, this is Virginny.

Driving back from the Outer Banks I noticed the biggest tourist attraction between here and there: the “cheap virginny cigarette stop.” It sits at the VA/NC border, just on the Virginny side. Them NC folks love to run up here and get their smokes. Mmmm…tasty. I guess NC wanted some bucks so they added a 1 mile toll road just to get some quick bucks from people zipping across the border for cigs.

The ‘Mr. Bills’ will probably go the way of Toonces.

I wish we could put all the VA politicians in that car if they don’t learn to function.

OBX

Quiet here on outskirts lately….I’m doing the Outer Banks eXtreme thing…soon to be on ESPN. Off season is really entertaining. No people at any of the touristy things. Can’t go wrong with that. No people that is.

Can I get recharged from this, or will return to the village suck all the eXtreme out of me?

man with cane

Apple has style. Can’t wait for the keynote next week. A shot from Christmas Eve in NYC. The store was packed.

Like everyone that lives in C-Ville, the ultimate goal for every weekend is to get out of hell (i.e. leave the village). I did a long weekend down in sunny (and cool for a change) Florida. Today was the return trip. Life was good until I got on board the plane heading back to the village from Dulles. A mere 24 minute flight. Should be simple.

But first step back one hour. I had a bit more than an hour to kill so I was wandering around getting some snacks (Dulles might be the most reasonably priced airport food in the country). For the first time I noticed the outdoor “smoking cages” that people were standing in. These were literally cages attached to the side of the building on big metal support beams sticking out of the wall. I’d seen the nice cloudy rooms where smokers like to hang out (bonus smoke is good…right?). I was wondering if two people went in there with just one cigarette would a cage match start? Forty quatloos on the Virginian.

Now jump ahead one hour and ten minutes. Our puny little twin prop plane is about to take off. The stewardess (not the right term..but can’t remember what is proper) goes through the standard spiel…no smoking, no getting up when the seat belt sign is on, fasten seat belt, use emergency exits in an emergency…you know the story. She sits in the front row and the plane make it in to the air.

About three minutes later (on a 24 minute flight) a gentleman near the back of the plane heads in to the restroom. A moment later the steward gets a call on the pilot phone (similar to a bat phone). She answers, and immediately heads back to the restroom. At the same time we get the announcement that there has been a malfunction with a smoke detector on our plane, and we are heading back to good old Dulles.

It all seemed a tad suspicious. What was the C-Ville-ite doing in the can? Why did the steward run back so quickly?

As we get back on the ground we head back off the plane. Beside the ground support folks tossing our bags around, there were two men with sidearms and a really cute German Shepherd (cute as in…it looks like it could eat you). I patiently waited for my carryon bag to be pulled out of cargo. When the man that had gone in to the restroom came out the two men chatted with him, and then cuffed him. The steward handed the men a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches.

Apparently the pilot (aka commissioner Gordon) had used the bat phone to let the steward know that the smoke alarm in the restroom had gone off.

We were told the plane needed a bit of mechanical work to repair the smoke detector, so we got to sit around for about an hour.

I’m so glad to be back in a village. If only he had managed to wait another 21 minutes to light up that cigarette. It would have saved me two hours. Maybe he should look at the latest news that smoking wrinkles your entire body, not just your face. I seem to recall Kramer learned about that a few years ago.

Kramer Portrait

When will I next get out of dodge? If I’m like everyone else around here it will probably be this weekend…but instead I guess I’ll be running a 5k. Hmm…would a cigarette help? Can I wait until I finish my 5k. That will take about 21 minutes. I’ll try.