Month: December 2020

Categories
News

Not over: Activists reflect on Black Lives Matter protests, next steps in 2021

Protesters march through Charlottesville in July. PC: Eze Amos

While the coronavirus pandemic has disproportionately impacted communities of color this year, Black people have been dealing with “a pandemic of racism” in the United States for centuries, as Black mental health advocate Myra Anderson told C-VILLE over the summer.

When Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin knelt on George Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes on May 25, ultimately killing him, these deep wounds of systemic violence and oppression were once again ripped open, sparking protests across the globe—and here in Charlottesville—in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.

From June to September, local activists led a string of demonstrations demanding an end to police brutality, and calling for justice for Black people who’ve been murdered at the hands of cops. The events drew large crowds of all races and ages.

“The killings of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery…they woke people up,” says activist Zaneyah Bryant, a member of the Charlottesville Black Youth Action Committee and a ninth grader at Charlottesville High School. “It put a spark on people, like wow this is happening to our people. This could happen to anybody—this could happen in Charlottesville.”

While protests against police brutality continue in places like Portland, Oregon, it’s been several months since people in Charlottesville have taken to the streets. Though there haven’t been any drastic changes made in the city—CPD’s $18 million budget has not been touched, for example—some activists believe progress has been made toward racial justice.

“These are tough and difficult conversations. Up until at least recently, people were reluctant to begin to initiate them, but now [they] are actually being had,” says community activist Don Gathers. “We’ve reached the point in the…racist history of this country where people are willing to have these conversations.”

“[The protests] really just opened up more conversation surrounding how the police interact with the community, and allowed for us to envision a police-free society,” adds Ang Conn, an organizer with Defund CPD. “We have community members looking at budgets, policies, things that never prompted their attention before. And when you have a lot of eyes on things, there is bound to be change.”

With the support of the community, Charlottesville City Schools was able to end its school resource officer program with CPD in June, another step in the right direction, says Bryant.

Other activists like Rosia Parker say they have yet to see any progress in the city.

“[My protests] were peaceful, decent, in order, and orchestrated with Captain Mooney. For them to deny me my march, I don’t feel it was right,” says Parker, referring to the city’s threat to fine her and other activists in August, and its denial of her event permit in September. “Other protests, no they didn’t help Charlottesville. A lot of people came out and supported Black Lives Matter, but at the end of the day, [it] didn’t do anything.”

“There’s been no change in the governmental structure—it has gotten worse,” she adds, citing the resignation of City Manager Dr. Tarron Richardson in September as an example of the city’s pattern of staffing instability.

Pointing to the police assault of a Black houseless man on the Corner last month, Bryant also fears that, despite the months of protests, Charlottesville police “have gone right back to their old ways—harassing Black people.”

In the new year, the fight against police violence and systemic racism must continue, the activists emphasize.

Though it may be a few months before protesters hit the city streets again, there are plenty of ways to remain involved in the fight, says Bryant. She encourages allies to participate in city government meetings and mutual aid programs, especially for people experiencing homelessness or food insecurity.

“If you are white and you see someone of color or Black being harassed, stand up and use your voice,” she says. “When you say something to those officers, you have power to stop them.”

The city government must also strengthen its relationship with Black communities, especially in light of multiple recent shootings in town, says Bryant.

“Those people in those communities are asking for more police presence. [They] feel unsafe,” she says. “But we can’t use [that] as a reason to say, ‘Oh they’re asking, so we have to keep harassing them.’ We need people to help them understand what they are asking for, and what they mean by wanting more police presence.”

For Parker, ensuring police and government accountability is a priority for next year, as the Police Civilian Review Board works to update its bylaws and ordinance, per the new criminal justice legislation passed in the General Assembly this fall.

“If that means the mayor and police chief have to go, then so be it,” she says.

In addition to advocating for the CRB, Parker plans to offer programs for Black youth through her community organization, Empowering Generations XYZ, with a huge focus on mental health.

“If we can educate our own, become peer-support recovery specialists, become more trauma informed, we can be around for our community, and won’t have to be overpoliced or underpoliced,” she says. “We won’t even need the police—we can do what we need to do ourselves in our own communities. It’s just about getting the resources and education.”

Finally, Gathers and Conn say they will keep on pushing City Council to slash CPD’s $18 million budget, and reallocate those funds to various social services and programs within the next year.

“That’s a lot of money, and people are really struggling out here with a lot of things,” says Conn. “We must continue to work towards hacking away at that police budget until it’s zero.”

Categories
Culture Living

PICK: The Last Minute Gift Workshop

Elves ourselves: It’s a festive season in a bleak year, and now more than ever, presents should be thoughtful. But let’s face it: Online shopping has become routine and boring. With all those algorithms, who is shopping for whom? The Last Minute Gift Workshop is stocked with interesting art materials and guided by teaching artists who’ll inspire your inner elf to make it personal and lift your spirits as you lighten your list. Masks are required, and attendance is limited to 25.

Friday 12/18, $15, 4pm. IX Art Park, 522 Second St. SE. 207-2355.

Categories
Culture Living

PICK: The Polar Express

Photo from Castle Rock Entertainment

Seeing is believing: Close your eyes and imagine boarding The Polar Express, where everyone is dreaming of a “White Christmas” and “Rockin’ On Top O the World,” leading us to “Believe” that all will be well “When Christmas Comes to Town.” As the train conductor, Tom Hanks provides comforting narration while leading a group of children to discover the holiday magic within themselves.

Saturday 12/19, $5-8, 11am and 3pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. 979-1333.

Categories
Culture Living

A Christmas tree story: The Casons have been selling holiday happiness for more than 100 years

Bob Thomas, who’s taken over the day-to-day operations of Cason’s Christmas Trees, says he enjoys every minute of it. The lot is located in Albemarle Square Shopping Center, and is open seven days a week until the trees are gone. Staff photo

For those who celebrate Christmas, selecting a tree is an annual tradition. For George Cason, selling trees to the Charlottesville community is a way of life.

George Cason’s father, L.E., began selling Christmas trees more than 100 years ago. Mr. and Mrs. L.E. Cason had seven boys and one girl, and as the children grew old enough, they would pitch in with the family business—selling trees, making wreaths, gathering mistletoe. George says he was 6 or 7 when he went to work.

In the early days, the family hauled cedar trees from their farm on Stony Point Road in Albemarle County to Main Street in Charlottesville, now the Downtown Mall. Any trees that didn’t sell during the day had to be taken back in the evening. George remembers setting up on a corner and remaining there to keep the spot from competitors. “You had to stay up half the night to make sure somebody else didn’t take it,” he says.

There were hard times, like when he was close enough to a restaurant to smell the food cooking all day, but didn’t have any money for lunch. “My father would put me on the corner down on Main Street early, and wouldn’t even leave me a dime—didn’t have a dime to leave me—to get something to eat,” he says. “That went on for about two weeks before people started buying trees.”

George recalls a Christmas Eve sometime in the 1940s with mischievous glee. “My daddy told me, ‘Son, if anybody wants that large cedar tree, just give it to them. That way, I won’t have to haul it back to the country,’” he says. “As it’s getting dark, the president of the People’s Bank walked out there. He said, ‘How much is that large Christmas tree there?’ I said,‘20 dollars.’ He reached in his pocket and pulled out a brand new 20 dollar bill and gave it to me. My daddy never did see none of that.”

Now near 90, George has sold Christmas trees nearly all of his life. He says he was out of the business for three years, while he served in the United States Army Air Corps, beginning in 1947. But as he held other jobs, he always made time to work at the Christmas tree lot each year. “It’s in my blood, I guess,” he says.

As the last surviving family member, George keeps the Christmas tree business going, but he no longer manages the day-to-day operations. The stand, now located at Albemarle Square Shopping Center, is the responsibility of Bob Thomas, who has been working for George for more than a decade. George describes Thomas as a “super man.” 

Thomas and a two-person team opened up shop the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and will be there “until we run out of trees,” he says. “Seven days a week, 10 hours a day, we’re here—rain or shine or snow. We just get the job done, and we have a good time being here.” 

Each year, Cason’s Christmas Trees brings in upwards of 700 Fraser fir trees from Boone, North Carolina. “We carry everything from the little tabletop trees to the 10- to 12-foot trees,” says Thomas. When they’re not shaping trees or helping customers load them up, Thomas and co. are making wreaths by hand from cut branches.

Business has been brisk this year. “We saw a big rush right before Thanksgiving, which was unusual,” Thomas says. He chalks that up to people being restless at home and ready to bring on the Christmas cheer due to the pandemic.

Fortunately, Thomas says, “it was a good growing season. The trees are full and green, and ready for people to get them and support Meals on Wheels.” Each year, a portion of the proceeds from the sale of Cason’s trees goes to Meals on Wheels.

In the last 14 years, the nonprofit that delivers food to ill and aging people in the Charlottesville-Albemarle area has received about $25,000 from the tree sales, according to Communications Manager Hannah Winstead. “The Cason family, as with all of our donors, are essential to making our service possible,” she says.

“Hopefully while everyone’s out getting their Christmas trees, this partnership can be a reminder to the community of those who are struggling most during what, for many of us, is the happiest time of the year,” Winstead says. “Since most of our clients are elderly or immuno-compromised, most will not see family this holiday season.”

By purchasing a tree from Cason’s, people are supporting a family legacy and helping to alleviate hunger for other families in the community. And they’re paying it forward for the young George Cason, standing on a corner selling trees, who couldn’t afford lunch.

Categories
Arts Culture

Digging for love: Ammonite is a stratum above a bodice-ripper

In Ammonite, Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan fall in love as they gather fossils on England’s Dorset shore in the 1840s.

Ammonites are fossils that are used to mark geologic time. Resembling the spirals that contain the golden ratio, they are ripe for parable and illustration. The film Ammonite, from writer/director Francis Lee, tries to capture that depth of meaning, but much like its namesake fossil, it is common and unexceptional.

The film holds fossils at its core. This is not a vague metaphor about antiquated notions of sexuality or history, though both of those interpretations are on the table; rather, the film literally revolves around the collection and refinement of fossilized creatures. Mary (Kate Winslet) is a known but not renowned fossil hunter on the Dorset coast. She fills her days by avoiding her fellow townsfolk, expressing disdain for tourists, tending to her mother (Gemma Jones), and scouring the beach for fossils. Robert (James McArdle) comes to the coast to learn under Mary’s tutelage, and the location has the added benefit of allowing his wife, Charlotte (Saoirse Ronan), to follow doctor’s orders and get sea air in her lungs. This is the 1840s, and that was cutting-edge medical advice.

Soon, Robert leaves to travel, and asks Mary to teach Charlotte to hunt fossils in his place. Mary is hesitant, but is in no position to turn down money. After Charlotte falls ill one day and Mary is designated her caretaker, their relationship begins to shift into desire.

While it might be easy to write off the two women’s romance as a dramatic example of the Florence Nightingale effect, Ammonite tries its darndest to convince us that these wildly different women have chemistry. There are longing looks across the beach and a shared excitement over a massive fossil find, but beyond that, there is little to unite them beyond lust and convenience. Granted, those factors drive nearly all Hollywood romances, but it is Ammonite’s insistence that it is being clever that makes it a bit rough.

What ultimately saves the film from becoming a tedious bodice-ripper is both Winslet and Ronan’s performances—and their clothes. Winslet is dressed as an exaggerated vision of a woman who has neither the money nor the inclination to care about her appearance or likability. Her hair is dull and muddied in color. She does not wear the corsets of her contemporaries. And though she is often digging through rocks by the shore, she has not gone so far as to completely abandon skirts and dresses.

Ronan, conversely, is dressed to reflect her emotional status. When we first meet Charlotte she is in mourning and decked in black and lace, not suited for digging or exploration. But as she adjusts to life without her husband, and she is no longer defined by relationship status or reproductive health, she starts dressing in color and more rough-and-tumble fabrics. She is ready to live her life.

This is the work of a skilled costume designer. Clothes can and should tell us more about characters than their words, but the issue in Ammonite is that signifiers like costuming and lighting are so obvious while the characters are so subtle. This mismatch feels both like a heavy hand and an absent ship captain, to mix metaphors.

There are, however, hints of more interesting stories adjacent to Charlotte and Mary’s quickly congealing attraction. A townswoman named Elizabeth Philpot (Fiona Shaw) brews salves, tends to her gardens, and makes Mary more uneasy than even the stuffiest social obligation. There is definitely a history there, and from snippets, we learn it is far more engaging than the film’s central storyline.

We also get whiffs of Mary’s difficulties in her profession, both as a woman and as a person of modest means. From having to sell her largest fossil find, to making picture frames out of shells for tourists, to having her name pasted over on fossil identification cards, it’s easy to see why she may be hiding from the world. We get too little of that story to be fully drawn in, but it would have been worth exploring.

It is unfair to judge a film for what it does not tell, rather than focusing on what it does. But the story here is not enough, and allows the mind to wander. Seeing these fleeting glimpses of the richer world of Mary, only to have her primarily defined by her attraction to Charlotte, is a disservice to the character and a frustration for the viewer.

Ammonite does deserve credit for showing a love story between two women, when that is still a novelty in a mainstream motion picture. The women are tender and caring toward one another, and the positive relationship for both of them is a testament to the growing acceptance of prominent queerness on screen. It just would have been better coming from two characters who had organic chemistry and a director who was able to find confidence in subtlety.

Categories
Culture Food & Drink Living

Take us out

Tavola’s cotoletta di maiale alla Milanese (breaded pork cutlets) is served over a bed of sautéed baby arugula and roasted Roma tomatoes, capers, and a creamy lemon sauce.

In an ongoing effort to support local dining establishments during the pandemic, our writers have been enjoying a variety of takeout meals
from some of their favorite restaurants. Contribute to this ongoing series by sending your own delicious experiences to living@c-ville.com.

Tavola

There are restaurants I desperately want to survive, and Tavola* is one of them. Before COVID, each time we landed a coveted table at Tavola, we sat down knowing the food would excel, the service would be top-notch, and the perfectly curated Italian wines would send me back to favorite meals in Tuscany. And if we got “stuck” waiting in the bar, the mixologists’ cocktails were out of this world. It’s a place where my loved ones and I have marked joyful special occasions and toasted friends prematurely lost. This place is very dear to me.

All that said, Tavola offers easy online ordering and curbside pick up. These days, I often start with a gimlet. Tavola bartenders make theirs with pineapple-infused Tito’s vodka, lime, cardamom, and pink peppercorn. It goes down a little too fast.

Normally I’m a creature of habit, but at Tavola I struggle over what to order. I love the carciofi, traditional fried roman artichokes, served atop whipped goat cheese and garlic aioli. I adore the spiedini di gamberi, a pancetta-wrapped shrimp on a bed of baby arugula and oven-roasted tomatoes with fresh mozzarella and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. I find myself returning to the burrata—gooey-soft and luscious mozzarella served with housemade crostini, arugula pesto, and sundried tomatoes. I often order the insalata verde, a simple local bibb lettuce salad with Meyer lemon vinaigrette, crunchy garlic croutons, and grated Grana Padano.

I’m also a sucker for the bucatini con polpette, the housemade meatballs with bucatini pasta, and the capellini gamberi raucci—sautéed shrimp, tomatoes, capers, soave, lemon, garlic, and Gorgonzola fonduta. (Ditto the pappardelle Bolognese, with housemade pasta.) But my heart belongs to the cotoletta di maiale alla Milanese—breaded pork cutlets (from my wonderful friends at Double H Farm) served over a bed of sautéed baby arugula and roasted Roma tomatoes, capers, and a creamy, buttery Meyer lemon sauce.

In my most recent Tavola takeout meal, I skipped the tiramisu. But I immediately regretted that decision, as Tavola’s compares to the best I’ve had in my many trips to Italy, finding the perfect balance of zabaglione and espresso-soaked ladyfingers. I guess that means I’ll just have to return soon.—Jenny Gardiner

Ivy Provisions

Ivy Provisions reopened in October after being closing at the beginning of the pandemic, and on a recent Saturday I ordered online to avoid weekend lines. There were no customers ahead of me when I picked up my Winner, Winner sandwich—roasted chicken, smoked bacon, lettuce, tomato, and green goddess dressing served on a baguette with a pickle spear on the side. The only complaint I had was my pickle was pitifully skinny and limp, but the sandwich made up for it with its substantial size. My favorite part was the contrast of the crispy bacon and baguette to the tender, roasted chicken. I wanted the sandwich to have a bit more kick or maybe more sauce, but that’s being picky. The green goddess dressing was sufficient. The rest of the menu is enticing too—the small sandwich joint offers immense flavors with its creations—and you can now get a free cup of locally roasted coffee with the purchase of a sandwich before 10am, Monday-Friday.—Madison McNamee

Al Carbon

When I crave something different, I turn to Al Carbon. The restaurant’s specialty, as its name implies (Spanish for cooking over charcoal), is chicken prepared in a Peruvian-style charcoal oven. The locally sourced chicken is marinated in a blend of spices for 24 hours before being slow-cooked rotisserie style. It’s served whole, by the half, or by the quarter.

While you can order online or over the phone, I opted for DoorDash. I ordered the Para Papa, which includes half of a chicken, two sides, and one salsa. The chicken was tender and flavorful. The spot offers many side choices, from French fries and mac and cheese to roasted cactus and tamales, and I selected the poblano rice and street corn. The healthy serving of rice paired well with the chicken, and the street corn, slathered with mayonnaise, cotija cheese, chili powder, and lime zest, was a perfect combination of sweet and savory. For the salsa, I chose the jalapeño cilantro, which is mildly spicy.

I finished the meal with churros, rolled in cinnamon sugar. They had just the right amount of crunch on the outside and sweet Bavarian cream on the inside.

Al Carbon also serves an array of South American and Mexican cuisine—huarache, tamales, tacos, flautas, burritos. No matter what you order, the portions are substantial—I had food left over for lunch the next day.—Laura Drummond

*Tavola is co-owned by culture editor Tami Keaveny.

Categories
Arts Culture

Zooming it in: Live Arts’ holiday play keeps tradition alive—with a twist

Directed by Amalia Oswald, Live Art’s virtual offering of IN HINDSIGHT, MAYBE GHOSTS WERE A BAD IDEA: A Holiday Play in Three Spirits opens on Thursday and runs through December 20. More info and tickets can be found at livearts.org. PC: Zack Wajsgras

By Julia Stumbaugh

At the beginning of November, director Amalia Oswald helped commission her friend, New York playwright Matt Minnicino, to write Live Arts’ 2020 holiday play.

The play had to be entertaining for adults, hilarious to children, inclusive of different holidays, and designed not for a stage, but for a Zoom webinar. Most importantly, it had to be finished in under a month.

And so Minnicino, who volunteered at Live Arts while a student at UVA, wrote IN HINDSIGHT, MAYBE GHOSTS WERE A BAD IDEA: A Holiday Play in Three Spirits in just three weeks.

The show, which Oswald describes as a cross between Shrek and What We Do in the Shadows, will be performed in the Live Arts building. Unlike usual productions, however, actors will be in their own individual rooms. Decked in wigs and armed with props, they will peer into their cameras as they talk to each other—and to the audience watching at home.

“We really want to make it seem more like these actors are reading from a storybook, and really presenting this to their audience members, and less of we’re just filming a performance,” Oswald says.

If this is a storybook, it’s one the audience won’t have read before. The play features three ghosts who are tasked with haunting a selfish medieval princess. Its plot is similar to A Christmas Carol, if Scrooge’s spirits were hilariously inept at their jobs.

“It’s really a love letter to why we love doing things, why theater is still alive during COVID, why we’re making plays even though we’re in the middle of a pandemic,” Oswald says. “Because people love performing, people love to be silly, and that’s really what this play is.”

Among the cast are a mother and father acting alongside their kids, as well as a local musician. Josh Tucker will wield his bouzouki, a pear-shaped Grecian guitar, as he binds the story together with Tudor-era Christmas carols.

“We have so many great musicians and so much musical talent,” Oswald says. “We wanted to have someone playing an instrument…music is so important in Charlottesville.”

Gluing together all the mismatched elements of the play is a challenge, especially since Oswald won’t be in the same building as her actors until tech week.

“We’ve been doing a lot of run-throughs and read-throughs,” Oswald says. “Because it is a staged reading, the most important thing is not being off-book. It’s really understanding and knowing the language of the play, and understanding what the moments are, and when things are going to happen.”

That task is even more challenging when it comes to the hour-long, newborn script. It was still being edited on the spot during the cast’s video conference run-throughs, as Oswald and Minnicino worked to shape the play around each actor’s unique strengths.

“You’re getting a script that’s still being worked, there are still edits happening,” Oswald says. “There really isn’t that kind of finalization that you feel when you walk into a rehearsal room for a script that’s been written 200 years ago.”

The last-second line changes, the dogs barking in the background of home rehearsals, the intense preparation of the Live Arts space—Oswald says it will all be worth it if IN HINDSIGHT can give audiences at least one holiday tradition that hasn’t been canceled when it premieres on December 17.

“I think people are excited that they have this event where they can experience the same thing, especially because it’s performed live every night…that means that these people who can’t get together in person still get to experience something very special,” Oswald says. “It’s never repeated. It’s never the same. And they still get to have that kind of holiday magic.”

Categories
Arts Culture

PICK: Duck Demystified

PC: File photo

Make way: Seems that if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, many of us are afraid to cook it. In Duck Demystified, chef Ian Rynecki addresses the uncertainties around preparing this often overlooked entrée. The hands-on demo ends with participants dining together on a whole, roasted duck with a selection of sauces and local wine pairings. Class size is limited, and masks and gloves are provided.

$125, 6pm. Pippin Hill Farm & Vineyards, 5022 Plank Rd., North Garden. pippinhillfarm.com.

Categories
News

True believer: We read Denver Riggleman’s Bigfoot book so you don’t have to

Denver Riggleman's new book, "Bigfoot... It's Complicated," is full of sex and light on insight

Congressman Denver Riggleman’s new book, Bigfoot…It’s Complicated, begins with a chapter called “A Discussion on Simian Genitalia.” In other words, Riggleman, who was accused of enjoying “Bigfoot erotica” during his 2018 congressional campaign, is leaning in.

Riggleman defeated Democrat Leslie Cockburn in 2018 despite the Bigfoot story, but will leave Washington having served just one term in Congress. This summer, he lost a COVID-altered drive-through Republican nominating convention to Bob Good, a bible-thumping challenger from the right who jumped in the race because Riggleman officiated a gay wedding between two staffers.

Since his loss, Riggleman has been on an impressive press tour, branding himself as a free-thinking critic of the current Republican Party. He’s one of a handful of Republicans to publicly acknowledge that Joe Biden won the election, and he’s toyed with running for governor as an independent. The Washington Post recently ran a profile of the soon-to-be-former lawmaker, emphasizing Riggleman’s libertarian bent as he sipped bourbon at his distillery in Afton.

Riggleman has also found time to publish Bigfoot…It’s Complicated, a 150-page narrative describing two Bigfoot finding expeditions he took in the 2000s. Led by an unscrupulous expedition leader and accompanied by a handful of true believers, Riggleman forked over a few grand for the privilege of camping out in the woods of Washington and West Virginia to search for the monster.

Riggleman’s new book is available now on Amazon.

In the prologue, Riggleman says he’ll deliver “a book about those who believe and what those beliefs encompass;” the book’s subtitle promises an examination of “the politics of true believers—Bigfoot and otherwise.” This is a legitimately intriguing premise. In an era when conspiracy theories are so prominent and so dangerous, it seems possible that real lessons could be gleaned from those devoted to one of America’s most well-known fables.

Before we dive in to whether or not Riggleman manages to teach us anything, I have to note that this book is absolutely jam-packed with Bigfoot sex. I mean it is just so, so horny. Riggleman says he’s not a fan of Bigfoot erotica—“I do not dabble in monster porn, although my wife does call me her silverback,” he writes, a line that might give pause to patrons of the couple’s Silverback Distillery—but throughout the story he misses no opportunity to get lascivious.

“How could someone kink-shame those gentle souls who take delight in the soulful, passionate moan of Sasquatch?” he wonders, half-joking. Once he’s out in the wilderness, searching for the monsters alongside a handful of Bigfoot devotees, he regularly points out his compatriots’ interest in Bigfoot’s “massive pecker.” When a Bigfoot believer tells Riggleman that human singing lures the creatures—yes, creatures, plural—Riggleman speculates that, should the lead singer of Journey appear and deliver a solo, “we’d have to fight off scores of salivating Bigfoot Mamas peeking from behind trees ready to mate, probably rubbing their grotesquely ridged nipples against tree bark.” Thank you for that image, Congressman.

Though he clearly finds Bigfoot, shall we say, compelling, Riggleman isn’t interested in laying out a case for the creature’s existence. He writes that “it would be cool if Bigfoot existed,” but he spends most of the story positioning himself above the fray. The group of Bigfoot devotees who make up the rest of the expedition party are foolish and hopeless, Riggleman believes—he calls them “excellent fodder for my upcoming book” and says he “couldn’t care less about their opinions or suggestions.”

For a man who claims to find the unknown so captivating, Riggleman is remarkably incurious when it comes to his companions. What made these people first believe in Bigfoot? Can they ever shake that belief? These questions largely go unasked, and unanswered.

Instead, he lionizes his friend and fellow expedition-goer Spinner, a state trooper, for his “brutal and often spot-on observations about Bigfoot sightings, falsification of evidence, and financial shenanigans,” which “infuriated believers and organizers alike” on the trip. (Conspiracy theories are, of course, famously susceptible to clear logic and spot-on observations.)

To be sure, the Bigfoot believers Riggleman encounters are off their rockers—some say Bigfoot is a benevolent extraterrestrial, others think scores of prehistoric Bigfoot roam the earth, most agree Bigfoot smells like fish. But the congressman, even out there in the woods with nothing else to do, doesn’t push any further. Maybe these Bigfoot believers are really nuts, but maybe they know something we don’t about how beliefs come to be—either way, Riggleman isn’t interested in finding out.

The most galling part of the story, though, is that Riggleman doesn’t see the irony at its center.

This man, who spends most of the book punching down at conspiracy believers, spent two years working for Trump’s Republican Party, a misinformation machine that has managed to convince a large chunk of America that the last presidential election was fraudulent, global warming is no big deal, and coronavirus is nothing to worry about.

In October, Riggleman co-sponsored a House resolution condemning QAnon, an unfounded conspiracy theory that claims a group of deep-state pedophiles is organizing a coup against Trump. The theory has been endorsed by a handful of newly elected Republican representatives.

But though he’s criticized Republicans in recent weeks, Riggleman was no maverick during his time in Washington. Yes, he officiated a gay wedding, but he also voted with Trump 93 percent of the time, per FiveThirtyEight; about a third of Republicans disagreed with the president more often than Riggleman did. Riggleman voted against offshore drilling regulations, against raising the minimum wage, against creating a path to citizenship for children of undocumented immigrants, and against impeachment. During his re-election campaign, he gladly accepted Trump’s endorsement. He doesn’t date from a saner, pre-Trump era—he threw his hat in the ring in 2018, after Trump had been the party’s standard-bearer for two years. Don’t get me wrong: It is important for Republicans to loudly disavow misinformation like QAnon. But it’s also wrong to pretend that Trump acolytes like Riggleman weren’t complicit in its rise.

So why do people believe in Bigfoot, or QAnon, or election fraud, or the idea that COVID isn’t real? “I think people fool themselves into thinking they see things just to fit in with others,” Riggleman concludes near the end of the tale. A member of the expedition party who claims to have seen the creature “might be lying,” Riggleman says, “But I think she wants to be included in the Bigfoot inner circle.”

There’s some truth in that analysis, but plenty of people managed to get that far without having to squat in the woods with night vision goggles on. And it’s pretty rich to hear that message coming from this messenger.

Over the weekend, Riggleman’s replacement, Bob Good, appeared at a Trump rally in northern Virginia. “It’s so good to see your faces,” Good said to the maskless crowd in front of him. “This looks like a group of people that gets that this is a phony pandemic.”

It is not, of course, a phony pandemic. Hundreds of thousands of people and counting have died. More are dying each day. Why do people swallow this misinformation? What can we do to change their minds? How can we stop the next Bob Good?

These are among the defining questions of our political moment, and perhaps Bigfoot could’ve helped us answer them. But when Denver Riggleman went looking, the monster slipped into the forest yet again.

 

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As you bike it: Residents concerned about proposed bicycle lane on Preston

The proposed bike lane would run along the east side of Preston Avenue, eliminating street parking for residents there. PC: Skyclad aerial

By Mary Jane Gore

On one side of Preston Avenue, heading up the hill from Washington Park, there’s a row of tightly packed, eclectic houses. On the other side, the road is bordered by an ivy-covered embankment.

Residents of the area are concerned about a planned bike lane, which would run up Preston on the east side—the side with the houses—and eliminate street parking for the people who live there. They argue that the other side of the street would be a better choice, because no existing parking places would be involved. They’re also upset about the way they learned of the potential change—from fliers posted on telephone poles along Preston Avenue.

“Before COVID, the first question everyone asked when coming by was ‘where do I park?’” says Boo Barnett, a homeowner on the street. “I have had people call in frustration and say ‘there are no spaces available, I’ll come later.’ The street is quieter now, but it will roar back.”

Nancy Kraus, an architectural historian and homeowner in the neighborhood asks, “Where will delivery, plumbing, electrical, HVAC, medical, and other services park?” She points out that “there are acres of land” on the opposite side of Preston, and says “there is no ill effect to putting the bike lane on the other side of the street.”

Kraus also points out that the houses are historically important, as some of the few remaining dwellings from the late- nineteenth-century Black neighborhood Kellytown.

Amanda Poncy, bicycle and pedestrian coordinator for the City of Charlottesville, says she has also heard complaints from people who live just off Preston, for example, along Hemlock Lane or in the Robinson Woods development on Cabell Avenue. Competition for spaces would increase in front of these homes if the bike lane disrupted the larger road. Adding to the stress is another proposed development, currently in the planning stage, which would create several more housing units on Cabell  and provide just one off-street parking place for each unit.

Bike lane proponents have also weighed in. “This is a high-stress route [for cyclists] due to the volume and speed of vehicles using it,” Poncy says. “Providing a bike lane will reduce the stress level on the route.”

And it’s a convenient time to install the lanes: The side of Preston with the houses is slated for repaving in the spring, and lines for bike lanes could be painted at the time of repaving. Cutting in to the embankment on the other side is a more complicated project.

Poncy and Peter Krebs, an urban planner and Albemarle-Charlottesville community organizer for the Piedmont Environmental Council, notes that a bike lane is more protective for cyclists pedaling uphill toward Rugby Road.

Krebs, who works to connect the city and county for safe bike and pedestrian routes, says that what can be done now to encourage cycling and walking is especially important during the COVID-19 pandemic, when there is more demand to be outdoors pursuing safe activities. He says the project is also important from another health standpoint—reducing vehicle miles will help “to get in front of climate change,” and help people be more healthy.

Homeowners Barnett and Kraus both emphasize that they aren’t against the bike lanes, but they are opposed to the removal of street parking for residents who need the parking spaces. Barnett says that the city should postpone public discussions “until the neighborhood knows the impact that the new large units [on Cabell] would have on an already strained parking system.”

Krebs says it will be feasible, but not for a long time, to install a sidewalk on the opposite side of Preston, and that the project overall is not perfect and calls for creative responses.

In addition to angst about the possible bike lane, homeowners don’t like the way they found out about it. Poncy says that whenever parking might be removed, the city posts information about a two-week comment period on streets or other structures nearby.

Kraus says, “If I had not walked up and down the street, I would not have seen the posters.”

“The two-week comment period was over the Thanksgiving holiday, during COVID-19,” Barnett says. “The city can get in touch with you if you don’t clean the snow off your sidewalk or if you owe taxes. So, the city can get in touch if they are going to take away your parking, and they chose not to.”

Poncy says the period for public comment will extend until an ultimate decision is made next year. “Given the amount of public comment we have received, the city will be conducting further studies in this area and will notify homeowners once this occurs,” Poncy says. The next round of assessments will likely take place in February.