Caffeine Magazine: Richmond's Drug of Choice

The ABC's of Richmond Angst

By John Sarvay and Richard Sebastian with assistance from Bob Massey, Katie Paar and Mary Reynolds. Illustrations by Sean Vincent

Forget the qualifiers. “Best of…” is for the birds. There are things in Richmond that are good, sure. But why only focus on the beautiful things in life?

Children of codependent parents, we’ve learned that within the seeds of our hate flourish gardens aching for love. Richmond causes us pain, agony, remorse. But every time we leave, we return. Like middle-aged mavens indoctrinated in the belief that all of the child’s pain is the parents’ responsibility, we refuse to share in the guilt.

We are innocent.

Richmond is guilty.

And by uncovering our inner children through the ABC’s of Richmond Angst, we prepare ourselves for a magnificent journey in our adult lives. We only hope to get jobs in cities as perfectly scarred as Richmond is.

ABC Licensing Policies: Just ask the Fan District Association who they call when a local bar gets on their nerves. Responsible for the influx of childish drunks to Shockoe Bottom, the state ABC are now selling lottery tickets at their retail outlets. How gauche! How absolutely Virginia!

Aerosmith: The Coliseum’s biggest draw was Richmond’s biggest charity concert, drawing thousands of mentally disadvantaged downtown. Maybe next year we’ll get Thin Lizzy.

Annabel Lee: It’s bad enough that people sun on the rocks of the James River, but now people actually spend time cruising on the James River. The hokey nature of riverboats is compounded by the hokey nature of the people who board them. Too bad the General Assembly canned riverboat gambling.

ATF: The federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms is the last line of defense against the Unorganized Militia of the United States. And they oversee three of the things that have simultaneously made this city both a great and a lousy place to live.

Aunt Sarah’s: The best 24-hour eatery now closes at 2 a.m. Where else can you get all-you-can-eat pancakes and Cousin’ John’s chicken at three in the morning?

The Avenues: Beware the intersection of Grove and Libby! Incautious drivers will be blinded by the white hose and leggings of 40-year-old woman who dress like eight-year-olds.

Babe’s: Thursday night line dancing! Nothing could be more depressing than to witness gay culture co-opting urban country culture.

Bill’s Barbecue Pies: Served by old woman with pudgy hands, these delicious pies have been sitting beside pork all day long. Thumbs up for the chocolate silk pies.

Byrd Theatre: A love for the sparkle, the crushed velvet, the marble walls, for the spray-on gold harp, for the campy organ music ala Lin Lund, for the extra butter on the buttered popcorn. Sometimes the movies are good, too.

Celebrity Room: U.S. Route 1 brings you directly to the doorstep of fun food. This is the Chuck E. Cheese for people over 40. Built in celebration of Elvis and the Beatles, the Celebrity Room now boasts karaoke in the Las Vegas Lounge.

Circling Stuart Circle: It’s late in the evening and you’ve already painted the town red a half dozen times (this is Richmond, after all). The city is pressing you with boredom and you feel the panic settling in: It’s not even dawn and there’s nothing to do! The solution is at hand. There is something to do for a childish thrill. Hop in a car and cruise to the intersection of Monument and Lombardy. Slide into the inside lane and circle General Stuart until you turn green. Sing loud. Feel ecstatic. Pretend you’re at Southside Speedway. This could be as good as it gets.

Cox, Gene: After senility comes celebrity for this weathered talking head. What we have done was best left undone—with the Celebrity Biorhythm of WWBT-TV12’s senior anchor last August, Caffeine opened the door for WAG magazine to turn a doddering fool into a youth icon.

East Coast Potatoes: You don’t need a lot of cash to fill your stomach with gastronomical delights in Richmond. Dietary heaven can be as close as the nearest East Coast convenience store. A large order of deep-fried, carefully seasoned ‘taters will set you back a mere $1.09. They glisten with grease beneath the red heat lamp even now. Come to me, they cry.

Finnegan, Begin Again: Richmond’s claim to movie fame.

Floodwall: They should have built it all the way around Shockoe Bottom and then opened the sluice gate during a Friday night flood to clean the human waste that flocks to the college bar scene.

Gim Hay: The best place for cheap cocktails and MSG-laden stir-fried cat. Another good thing about Richmond lost in the wake of progress. Thanks, Dr. Trani.

Grace Street Cinemas: Home of enviro-theatre. It was so hot during their showing of The Panama Deception that it felt like you actually were in Panama. On the other hand, great films, great location and every night is for tight-wads. Bonus points for supporting local filmmakers. Most people didn’t even know there were any until Grace Street started showing their work.

GRTC: Friendly drivers are counterbalanced by inadequate service (geographically and chronologically) and plumes of thick, oily smoke that randomly gas unsuspecting bicyclists. And it was named one of the top 10 services in the country? Who got first place? Duluth?

Hadad’s Palisides Club and Lake: Head straight out Route 5 for the best in casual sporting. Trampolines, swimming, volleyball and a cobwebbed high-dive.

Interior Decorating Stores: There are just way too many on Cary Street. They should relocate to Innsbrook.

Jack in the Box: A city without at least one Jack in the Box should be deleted from travel guides.

K: She used to be one of us, then comes the little bobbed look and then the bleach. K Strong was one of TV’s bitchin’ commercial stars, now we tremble in rage at the sight of her and her “The Grocery Store” pals. Maybe we just liked her because we could never shop at The Grocery Store until last year. Maybe we just liked her back in the day when she was The Ghetto Safeway’s enemy.

Krispy Kreme Donuts: OK, so they no longer serve their java in little, Krispy Kreme emblazoned cups, but they don’t attempt to be anything other than what they are: a kick-ass donut shop. Sit at the counter, watch the conveyer belt ramble along, watch the grizzled men sitting beside you, watch the counter help hate to be of assistance. It was better when they wore snazzy hats with pom-poms, but not much better.

Latex: It breaks more than our hearts to see the departure of the only business of which Richmond could rightfully be proud. The company that brings millions of condoms to Third World nations is leaving Chesterfield County and consolidating its plants in Alabama. This is economic development????

Main Street’s Candyland: If it only were just a game, but time has shown that Ed Eck plans to keep “Uptown” Main Street flush with gaudy buildings. Who the hell uses tones like Coral and Mauve for exterior decorating in 1994? Thank god there is almost no store on this pastel strip that I frequent on a regular basis. Too bad he’s expanding into Manchester.

Name Changes: Go ahead. Try and keep track of the names of bars that have changed their names for no apparent reason. It’s not like they’ve changed the interior. Rockitz, Metro, Twister’s, Factory? Which one has the show tonight? Or could it be that the Chronos Cafe…oh, hell, I can’t remember.

National Recognition: There’s no irony lost in the fact that 90 percent of Americans aren’t sure where Richmond is, and 99.3 percent of them don’t care. Percentages are approximate. But, when the powerful Tunisian Olympic team trains here for the ’96 Summer Games, they will know exactly where Richmond is—near Atlanta.

North, Ollie: What a name! What a guy! If only Jim Henson could be alive to see this live action Muppet in his bid to revive the legacy of Cotton Mather. Though technically not a Richmond icon, Ollie would represent the city as a junior senator. Between Governor G. Felix Allen, Ollie and 1996 Senator-elect Michael Farris, there are plenty of reasons to leave Richmond. And Virginia.

Old Dominion Club: If you don’t have a date or aren’t drunk by 2 a.m., head to ODC. Thrifting for a mate. See Times-Dispatch Personals

Oregon Hill: Are your folks in town? This little pocket of unabashed white culture is the ideal location for a Saturday afternoon stroll. Talk it up with the shirtless men gathered in the dusty front lawns on Laurel Street drinking Milwaukee’s Best. Run through the alleys with the packs of semi-domestic dogs. Stop and swing on someone’s porch. Root for the 14-year-old boy as he whoops up on the eight-year-old girl. Walk on, tumble into the James River.

Plasma Centers: Good money. Good cause. Free orange juice.

Pollard and Bagby: A virtual monopoly on housing in the Fan with mediocre upkeep to boot. See Value

Politics: There’s politics. And then there are small towns in Florida where the likes of Lobster Boy and Caterpillar Woman are born, bred and sent off with the circus. There must be a similar sort of summer camp for Richmond politicians. Crazy people don’t just happen. Someone has to be responsible for Geline Williams’ hair. Why did anyone ever want them to leave office. Can earnest Tim Kaine ever be as self-righteous and dumb as Roy West? When will Chuck Richardson come back? He’s the only sincere politician left in this town.

Port of Richmond: What exactly is the Port of Richmond, and who would ship entire cargo loads of anything here? Our only exports are tobacco and people…

Portland: Dozens of Richmonders are escaping to Portland, Oregon, this year. Another city destined to be destroyed by the inadequacies inherent in those who have lived in the Capital of the Confederacy.

Proximity to Other Cities: Thanks to Greyhound, I-95, Amtrack and the Richmond International Airport (yeah, right), it isn’t hard to escape the passive clutches of Richmond.

Recycling: The city recycling pick-up program discriminates against apartment dwellers. The program is not for what the city calls “multi-dwelling homes,” which means that most people under 30 living in the Richmond have to go the extra mile to recycle their goods—either by stealing a neighbor’s green bin or driving to one of the area recycling centers. Of course, inhabitants in those multi-dwelling homes pay the mandatory recycling fee hidden in their monthly water bill.

Recycling, Significant Others: Richmond’s own form of counter-cultural inbreeding. Whose boyfriend went out with whose best friend when?

Richmond Forum: Bob Hope? Gorbachev? George Bush? The has-been lecture circuit finds a place to roost courtesy of our has-been city leaders.

Richmond Murders: Forget the murder rate, how about The Murder? Well, almost murder. Richmond almost killed Frank Sinatra. Another example of our city’s inadequacy is that the bitter putz survived to sing another day.

Seibert’s Towing: The closest thing to a random monopoly as you’re likely to find anywhere on Earth. In addition to having the towing contract for the City of Richmond, we’ve overheard rumors that the rates are variable depending on factors such as social status, race and gender.

Shockoe Bottom: A good idea that has either gone sour or not yet materialized. What should have been a mecca of shopping, dining, musical entertainment and affordable housing is a weekend brothel. Why would anyone want to encourage frat boys to congregate near booze?

Simmons, Bernie: The last Log aired July 22. WWBT-TV12’s Bernie Simmons is almost too easy a target for ridicule. An old sourpuss who loved to tell sour, old Richmonders what to do for fun? It was just too much. So many great events never took place for fear that Bernie would show up.

Small Town Syndrome: Finally, a Ryder truck survey that reveals the truth! Richmond isn’t Jacksonville or Charlotte or some other barnyard town with ridiculous nicknames for their professional sports teams. Go West, readers, go West! Richmond compares to Reno and Sioux City and Duluth, according to a report issued by Ryder, the truck rental company. Billings, Montana, not Boston! Ft. Wayne, Indiana, not Dallas-Fort Worth! Get off your high horse, Frank Jewel, and saddle up that pack mule. Welcome to Richmond, a Triple-A baseball town with Double-A aspirations.

Starbuck’s: The McDonald’s of haute coffee culture. Coming soon to a mall near you.

Times-Dispatch Personals: Can you imagine the type of people who use these personals? Clue: The same type that reads the TD for serious news. This is the equivalent of thrifting for a mate, the flea market of personals. “Slightly used, faded, out-of-date single male ISO…”

TV-8 Snow Team: They were the first to make a business out of Richmond’s inane fear of winter weather. How about re-runs of early 90s snow scares during the hot days of August?

U of R Radio: Perched atop the Tyler Haynes Commons Building at the University of Richmond, WDCE (90.1 FM) is Radio Free Richmond. The station that rejects our parents and their discarded Hendrix and Grateful Dead LPs. The station that has learned from our parents’ indulgences, their wasted idealism. The station that has embraced a new soundtrack: the Spin Doctors, Phish and, most powerful of all, Rage Against the Machine. What a complete joke.

Value: Sure it’s cheap to live in Richmond, but look at what you get for your money.

Veracruz, Our Sister State: It’s official. Governor G. Felix Allen has dubbed Veracruz, Mexico, Virginia’s sister state. Veracruz was the landing site of Euro-conqueror Hernan Cortez in 1519. “We’re going to be much more friendly,” Allen says of the relationship. “We won’t tear down their [monuments] to put in our churches.” His statements could be in reference to the Republican Party’s bid to turn Virginia into a modern-day Christian Mecca. See North, Ollie

The William Byrd: Home of cheap haircuts and $10 massages. Ask yourself: Do you really want an old gnarled man touching the tender flesh on your back with his cigarette-stained fingers? This is where Old Man Thalhimer and the like must get their hair trimmed.

Weather Gripes: Who can stand the local TV weathermaps laden with summertime slogans like “merky” (sic) and winter phrases like “snowing like lard” (ala John Bernier)? And forget the way Richmonders react to snow; people who complain about the heat in the summer are much more grating. News flash: It’s always hot in the summer. Everywhere.

X-Rated Family Restaurants: Thanks to the likes of Hooters, a new generation of kids are being brainwashed as they sit down for a wholesome meal of buffalo wings, hamburgers and breasts. This is the kind of woman average schmucks find attractive? No wonder crime is moving into the suburbs: these people are mindless morons.

Zzzzzzzzzzz…: An average night in Richmond.