Author: ace-atkins

Dear Ace: Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? Can you hear me now? Good?—Gauguin-my-eyes-out-over-questions-without-answers-in-Charlottesville

Ace, for one, was found on a dark and stormy night on the doorstep of Albemarle County residents Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, tucked in a wicker basket with a letter that read, “Answer me.” And it hasn’t been easy, but Ace is trying. With the help of modern science, Ace has been able to determine that his true ancestry is two parts Maltese, one part Baskervillian. Once, he even received a purloined letter from a distant blood relative in London, listing 221B Baker St. as the return address. Sadly, Ace’s attempts to correspond with the mysterious sender went unanswered.

So mote it be for us all, friend. In our hearts and in our minds, we call out to our starry cradle of origin, yet receive nary a sign that the audient void hears our voices. According to the best available measurements, we are one of the latest results of a continuing cosmic maelstrom that got started sometime between 13.3 and 13.9 billion years ago, at which point the Universe expanded from an extremely dense, incredibly hot singularity of matter and energy into the immeasurably vast, darkly celestial sea in which we presently find ourselves struggling to stay afloat. There’s enough poetry in that accounting of things to sustain Ace, but if you’re inclined to approach the mystery of creation in terms of an archetypal workweek, or as a stack of turtles in infinite regress, then he won’t try to persuade you otherwise. Just remember, dear reader, that the territory includes the map but they are not the same thing. All peregrines are falcons but not all falcons are peregrines; indeed, some falcons are Maltese.

As to where we’re going, well, Ace hasn’t any idea. The earth revolves around its home star, which is nestled in an outer band of the Milky Way Galaxy, which cuts its own ineffable trajectory across time and space. So humanity’s transit broadly resembles a corkscrew, coil or helix: at once cyclical and progressive, a sine wave of light, sound and fury twisting ever onward into the unknown. 

But you are here, and Ace is here too, and if you can hear him now, then he can hear you. Ace supposes that’s good enough.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Hi Ace. Bastille Day is coming up, and I was wondering: Can you, gourmand that you are, explain to us why French toast is neither French nor toast? And what are French fries, really?—She-Don’t-Use-Jelly-in-Charlottesville

Why are carrots more orange than oranges? Why is Iceland greener than icy Greenland? Why does time fly like an arrow, whereas fruit flies like an apple?

Riddle Ace this, Virginia Highway Patrol: Why do they call it a restroom if you can’t discreetly sleep in it?

French toast, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, has been part of the English culinary lexicon since 1660 at least, referring to bread fried in wine, orange juice and sugar, with egg-based variations appearing in 1882. However, the dish likely originates in medieval Spain, where torrijas were common fare as early as the 15th century. Broadly, the practice of frying bread in eggs, dairy and spices was no gourmet innovation, but a way to make stale bread edible.

Indeed, French toast is more fry than toast. Which brings Ace to the French fry, originally a relic of the Meuse valley in the Spanish Netherlands, now Belgium, circa 1680. According to Belgian journalist Jo Gérard: “The poor inhabitants of this region allegedly had the custom of accompanying their meals with small fried fish, but when the river was frozen and they were unable to fish, they cut potatoes lengthwise and fried them in oil to accompany their meals.” Belgian fries, which the French call pommes frites, first found their way into the mouths of famished American servicemen as they arrived in Belgium during World War I. So how did the misnomer arise? French, as it happens, was the official language of the Belgian Army at the time. 

Ace doesn’t know what it says about us Anglos that we weren’t able to tell the difference, but hey—if it weren’t for us Yanks, they’d be called German fries. And to be fair, frites were known to us as French long before the Great War, by some accounts—notably that of Thomas Jefferson, whose records from 1801-1809 contain a recipe for “potatoes deep-fried while raw, in small cuttings,” which almost certainly came from Jefferson’s French chef, Honoré Julien.

Note that both French toast and the French fry were inventions of dietary necessity, which leads Ace to believe that the adjective “French,” rather than signifying national origin, merely connotes desperation.  

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: It’s well known that Presidents John Adams and Thomas Jefferson died within an hour of each other on the Fourth of July in 1826. What other famous Americans expired on the holiday?—Patrician-Mortician-in-Charlottesville

Ace wonders if every classic American patriot—statesman, war hero, spaghetti Western character actor, etc.—secretly hopes his life’s trajectory will end on Independence Day. Is it possible, in the same way some expectant mothers try to time their deliveries for the beginning of the New Year, that the nearly simultaneous passing of our second and third presidents was the result of a tacit rivalry between them?

In any case, our fifth President, James Monroe, was quick to repeat the feat, taking his leave on July 4, 1831. Likewise, Paul Joseph Revere, grandson of the Revolutionary War legend and a Union Colonel during the Civil War, was mortally wounded during the Battle of Gettysburg, and after lingering for two days in a field hospital, died on July 4, 1863. Revere received posthumous brevetting to Brigadier General. Fast forward to 2002, with the Independence Day passing of Benjamin O. Davis, Jr., commander of the World War II Tuskegee Airmen and the first African-American general in the US Air Force. Finally, Jesse Helms, the controversial five-term Republican Senator from North Carolina, secured his place in the “croaked on the Fourth of July” cabinet with his death in 2008.

July 4 also marks the conclusion of three American actresses’ lives: Judy Tyler, who starred opposite Elvis Presley in Jailhouse Rock, and was killed in an automobile accident in Wyoming in 1957, at age 24; Anne Shirley, famous for her character of the same name in the 1934 film Anne of Green Gables, in 1993; and Eva Gabor, the Hungarian-born actress and American socialite, in 1995. Winnifred Quick, English emigrant to the United States and one of the longest survivors of the sinking of the Titanic, passed on Independence Day in 2002, as did velvet-voiced soul singer-songwriter and record producer Barry White in 2003.

But perhaps the supreme example of American heroism can be found in the July 4 death of professional wrestler “Adorable” Adrian Adonis, tag team partner of Jesse Venture in the late ’70s. Adonis was slain, along with several other wrestlers, in a minivan accident in Newfoundland, when the driver allegedly swerved to avoid hitting a moose and, blinded by the setting sun, inadvertently drove into a lake. 

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: Surely you’ve noticed that rather large, frankly ominous structure that popped up recently at the southwest end of the Montalto Ridge, among all those glowing red towers near Carter’s Mountain Orchard? What is it, and should I invest in a tin-foil hat?—Inquiring Mind

That hat sounds like a good start. Why do you think Ace wears lead-coated long underpants under his trench coat, except to guard his chakra system from the subtle emanations of those sinister pylons, that array of neon archons crouched upon our skyline like a soundless symphony of ghouls?

Ace recently had a dream in which he found himself navigating a hedge labyrinth in an idyllic garden. He happened upon an immense clearing, out of which rose one of those very same towers, its antennae scintillating like a tapestry of blood rubies. Only its lattice was made out of ivory, and smelled of ambergris and myrrh. And at its crown, among the heavens, Ace saw David Bowie dangling from a rope tied around his left ankle, reciting William Blake and portions of the Zohar translated into Koine Greek. Then the entire scene lifted like a velvet curtain, and just before waking, Ace found himself alone in the dark under the infinite gaze of a lidless, solitary eye.

And no joke, ladies and gentlemen: The lights just went out in the C-VILLE Weekly newsroom. So Ace, who was never all that intrepid when you get right down to it, will leave that trail for someone else to investigate. (Actually, Carter Mountain Trail runs directly through the array, if you’re feeling inquisitive. And brave.)

But for what it’s worth: In a 2002 Environmental Impact Review nestled in the bowels of the University of Virginia’s Emergency Health & Safety website, Ace discovered plans to expand the Carter Mountain complex—already comprising “at least ten radio, TV and cell phone towers,” but who’s counting?—to support a new emergency communications system “that will provide coordinated emergency and public safety radio communications coverage county wide.” A cooperative effort between the City, County, and University, the project entailed the addition of “a new tower and support building” to the south end of the existing tower farm.

The document also refers to plans for renovations to the Fan Mountain radio tower, about 13 miles south of Charlottesville; the addition of a new tower to Peters Mountain in Gordonsville; and the placement of a self-aware, super-intelligent satellite into geosynchronous orbit over the Rotunda.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com

Dear Ace: What would we be if we were Charlottesburg? What’s the difference between a ’ville and a ’burg, anyway?—Anton Burgess-Deville

To begin with, you’d be reading these words in the C-Burg Weekly, not to be confused with that other paper, The Harpoon.

Maybe that would be the extent of the difference. Then again, Ace can’t help but think that a Charlottesburg, only a four-letter tweak away from the island universe in which we dwell presently, would be a world completely alien to what we know. In much the same way that Bedford Falls, absent George Bailey, became the dystopian Pottersville, so could Charlottesville have been, without that elegant, feminizing suffix, a Dickensian factory town, or a hub of motorcycle culture, or a glittering Tokyoesque metropolis renowned for its day-glo space needle casino.

The suffixes -ville and -burg hail respectively from the Gallic and Teutonic regions of Europe. Variants of -ville, denoting “farm” or “village,” appeared in Normandy after the sixth century CE, then in England after the Norman conquest of 1066. Conversely, -burg shares common ancestry with the Old English -borough and Scottish -burgh, referring to a “fortified place, walled town, fortress.” 

Colonial settlements in the North Americas initially preferred to break with European toponymical custom, suffixing townships with -ton and -town. By the mid-18th century, -burg and -boro had entered into fashion. It wasn’t until after the American Revolution, however, that -ville entered the American popular lexicon, likely as an expression of solidarity with our French allies—see, for example, Louisville, Kentucky, named with the French suffix for the French King in 1780. 

Charlottesville, of course, having always been both ahead of the curve and the exception to any rule, adopted the suffix before the Revolution, during its chartering in 1762. Our town takes its name from Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, the Queen consort of England’s King George III. Both hailed from Germany’s House of Hanover. Go figure.

There’s no way to know exactly how Charlottesville would have been affected by a suffix switch, any more than we can know how Ace Atkins would have turned out with a name like Deuce Druthers, Queen Quimby or Jack Johnson.

Considering that many outsiders tend to confuse us with the largest city in North Carolina, however, it’s probably a moot point. 

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: Who cleans the Free Speech Wall, and how often? I’m trying to determine when it would be likeliest that I would find a wide, empty swath of slate on which to hide an encoded message in plain sight.—Chalkboard-Collaborator-in-Charlottesville

The 54′ strip of Buckingham slate that stands at the threshold of the Charlottesville Pavilion goes by many names: the Free Speech Wall, First Amendment Monument, Community Chalkboard and so on. Ace, with equal parts cynicism, reverence and wobbly affection, has taken to calling it Graffiti Park. He’s thankful, of course, to live in a society in which open channels of free expression are protected by constitutional mandate. Then again, there’s that lingering question: What is the power of a sheltered word?

Personally, Ace sees just as much potential in, say, the writing on the wall under the Belmont Bridge by the Beck-Cohen building. Or in the marker mural inside Arch’s Frozen Yogurt on the Corner. After all, who stands to benefit more from a deftly wielded word: an established denizen of our artsy, permissive Downtown Mall? Or an impressionable first-year pledge in the dessert line?

Yet there is no doubt, rhetorical considerations aside, that since its completion in April 2006, the First Amendment Monument has served at once as a vibrant community forum, a treasured symbol of our shared civic values, and a canvas for some outstanding amateur artwork. The Thomas Jefferson Center for the Protection of Free Expression, the local not-for-profit organization that commissioned the monument, is also responsible for cleaning it roughly twice a week. According to the Center’s website, such cleaning does not violate the First Amendment because it is “not government action.”

Likewise, says the Center, private citizens are also free to clean all or part of the slate at any time. So if you see a word on the wall that bothers you? Erase it, and write something else, or nothing, in its place! Maybe a lovingly crafted chalk portrait strikes you as beautiful? Deface it. You have that right.

But if the implications of your total freedom give you vertigo, worry not: The Thomas Jefferson Center also maintains a “virtual” Free Speech Wall, which abides by the same rules as the real one, at chalkboard.tjcenter.org.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: My little sister’s getting married soon, and everyone wants me to make a speech during the reception. Trouble is, I’m a mumbler, I’ve always been struck with stage fright, and my off-the-cuff jokes aren’t funny, they’re just offensive and lame. Won’t you help me work up some gumption, Ace?—Stuttering-Stanley-in-Charlottesville

Two words, Stan: Open bar.

Then again, Ace’s recipe for brazen wordplay in the harsh light of public scrutiny is probably not the one you need. You’re better off honing your speech-making abilities in the context of a time-tested, regular practice. You could try out a few of the more commonly known methods, like practicing in front of a mirror, or visualizing the audience in their underpants. In the end, however, there’s only so much you can do in private to prepare for your words to be meticulously picked apart by your friends and family.

That’s where the Toastmasters come in. Since their origin in a YMCA basement in Santa Ana, California, circa 1924, they’ve taught the arts of public speaking and sociability across the world, through over 12,500 clubs in 106 countries. Charlottesville alone has two chapters: the Vinegar Hill Toastmasters Club, which meets every Friday from noon to 1pm in the Albemarle County Office Building, and the Blue Ridge Toastmasters, which typically gathers every Tuesday at the Northside Library from 7 to 8:45pm.

Meetings, according to Toastmasters International’s website, usually comprise approximately 20 to 40 people, who practice and learn skills “by filling a meeting role, ranging from giving a prepared speech or an impromptu one to serving as a timer, evaluator or grammarian.” This takes place in a learn-by-doing context, forgoing lectures in favor of putting participants on the spot in terms of their speaking and leadership skills. Additionally, Toastmasters meetings have no instructor. Individual efforts are critiqued by the collective, just like you’ll be during the moment of truth, whether it’s a wedding reception, press conference or parole hearing.

If the Toastmasters curriculum doesn’t work for you, though, take heart—even if you bungle your speech, you can bring it gracefully to an end with an exotic foreign language salutation. Ace’s closer of choice is Egészségedre, Hungarian for “To your good health.” That one never fails to impress.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: I really envy the parents of the next Picasso. Chances are, all they’ve gotta do is let their kid find some paints, a canvas and a brush and she practically trains herself. Me, I’m raising another Federico Fellini, or at the very least a Bertolucci or a Pasolini. So how do you nurture a budding film prodigy, anyway?—Spinning-Reels-in-Charlottesville
Best start them young, Ace reckons. Wean them on timeless celluloid classics at The Paramount and local indie flicks at Vinegar Hill. Take them to see Virginia Film Festival speakers. What loving parent of directorial talent wouldn’t want his son or daughter to take John Waters as a role model? Maybe Ace is the wrong person to ask.
Once your little ones reach middle school, though, there are a couple more concrete steps you can take, right here in Charlottesville, to prepare them for a directorial career. For one, check out the Tandem Friends School’s film program, which takes students through several years of intensive instruction in various digital media techniques. Middle schoolers begin learning iStop Motion, and in seventh grade start developing claymation films. Eighth graders hone their digital filmmaking chops by producing an entry for the Quaker-oriented International Bridge Film Festival. Students who enroll in Tandem’s Upper School learn more advanced film production techniques, and also produce material for the Bridge Festival.
You’ll also want to look at Charlottesville’s Light House Studio, an independent media educational center located at the City Center for Contemporary Arts, in the same building as Live Arts and Second Street Gallery. A non-profit 501(c)(3) organization, Light House offers introductory summer programs in filmmaking and animation, in addition to more advanced directorial workshops focused on narrative, documentary and other topics. Recently, Light House concluded its First Annual Light House Sweded Challenge, a two-weekend event in which amateur filmmakers competed to remake their favorite films with minimal resources and shoestring budgets.
If college is in your child’s future, the UVA McIntire Department of Art boasts a series of excellent filmmaking courses, including an introductory seminar taught by Guggenheim-winning director Kevin Everson. Also consider VCU’s nationally ranked Photography and Film BFA/MFA programs.
 

Dear Ace: I really envy the parents of the next Picasso. Chances are, all they’ve gotta do is let their kid find some paints, a canvas and a brush and she practically trains herself. Me, I’m raising another Federico Fellini, or at the very least a Bertolucci or a Pasolini. So how do you nurture a budding film prodigy, anyway?—Spinning-Reels-in-Charlottesville

Best start them young, Ace reckons. Wean them on timeless celluloid classics at The Paramount and local indie flicks at Vinegar Hill. Take them to see Virginia Film Festival speakers. What loving parent of directorial talent wouldn’t want his son or daughter to take John Waters as a role model? Maybe Ace is the wrong person to ask.

Once your little ones reach middle school, though, there are a couple more concrete steps you can take, right here in Charlottesville, to prepare them for a directorial career. For one, check out the Tandem Friends School’s film program, which takes students through several years of intensive instruction in various digital media techniques. Middle schoolers begin learning iStop Motion, and in seventh grade start developing claymation films. Eighth graders hone their digital filmmaking chops by producing an entry for the Quaker-oriented International Bridge Film Festival. Students who enroll in Tandem’s Upper School learn more advanced film production techniques, and also produce material for the Bridge Festival.

You’ll also want to look at Charlottesville’s Light House Studio, an independent media educational center located at the City Center for Contemporary Arts, in the same building as Live Arts and Second Street Gallery. A non-profit 501(c)(3) organization, Light House offers introductory summer programs in filmmaking and animation, in addition to more advanced directorial workshops focused on narrative, documentary and other topics. Recently, Light House concluded its First Annual Light House Sweded Challenge, a two-weekend event in which amateur filmmakers competed to remake their favorite films with minimal resources and shoestring budgets.

If college is in your child’s future, the UVA McIntire Department of Art boasts a series of excellent filmmaking courses, including an introductory seminar taught by Guggenheim-winning director Kevin Everson. Also consider VCU’s nationally ranked Photography and Film BFA/MFA programs.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

 Dear Ace: I hear the CCDC is running an exhibition about the history and design of the Downtown Mall. What’s up with that?—Pedestrian-Mallrat-in-Charlottesville

Good question. Nowadays Ace basically lives at the Mudhouse, having learned to sustain himself on a diet of dried coffee grounds and free Wi-Fi, and like you, he wonders about what exactly went into the development of our small-town, cosmopolitan, quasi-utopian social space. Since April 2 and running through May 31, the Charlottesville Community Design Center, in conjunction with the UVA School of Architecture and Preservation Piedmont, is hosting “More Than Just Bricks: A Social and Design History of the Charlottesville Downtown Mall,” a series of exhibitions and events meant to shed light on the subject, exploring the “historical and contemporary significance” of the Mall’s design.

The main exhibit covers the history of the Mall between 1973 and 1976, during which time renowned landscape architectural firm Lawrence Halprin Associates—also known for designing the FDR Monument in Washington, D.C., the Ghirardelli Square in San Francisco and dozens of other innovative public areas—conceived, planned and implemented the conversion of East Main Street into a brick pedestrian walkway at the heart of Charlottesville’s historic commercial district. Featured are drawings, photographs and oral histories with citizens and city staff who helped bring about the Mall as we know it today. 

Additionally, the CCDC is conducting a series of peripheral lectures, panel discussions and walking tours. Event highlights already past include a lecture about Halprin, the visionary Mall designer, and a panel discussion about his Take Part Workshops, which raised citizen awareness and participation in the project through an inventive process of choreographed group activities. Halprin, who died in 2009, developed the method in collaboration with his wife Anna, a pioneer in postmodern and therapeutic dance.

Events yet to come include a discussion about the theory and practice of preserving designed landscapes, to take place on May 19; a walking tour of the Mall, with a focus on Halprin’s design intentions, landscape design elements and the 2008-09 brick renovation, on May 22; and finally, a closing gallery talk and reception on May 27. A full exhibition schedule can be found at cvilledesign.org.

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.

Dear Ace: After reading C-VILLE’s report on 25 lesser-known local stars, I got to thinking about the light-polluted night sky, replete with myriad hidden galaxies and constellations that I don’t even know I’ve been missing. What is a would-be stargazer to do?—Siriusly-Starstruck-in-Charlottesville

Worry not, young skywatcher. To quote Oscar Wilde, “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” And so, as the world burns around us, we turn our eyes toward the heavens in greater numbers. How else do you explain the recent rash of Carl Sagan/Stephen Hawking auto-tune mixes on YouTube, except as a reaffirmation of the cosmic destiny that seemed so clearly ours in 1970? Indeed, President Obama’s sudden renewal of NASA’s budget, with the goal of putting an American on Mars sometime in the coming 30s, seems to Ace like it were meant to reassure us that our space-faring ambitions—and broadly, the world more or less as we know it—will still exist in twenty years’ time.

Fortunately, there are a few things you can do now to scratch that celestial itch. The Ivy Creek Natural Area and the Outdoor Adventure Social Club have both been known to conduct periodic stargazing excursions. Then again, if you’re after a more intimate encounter with the heavenly bodies, you’ll want to check out UVA’s Leander McCormick Observatory during its free public nights, from 7-9pm on the first and third Friday of every month. Weather permitting, you’ll have the opportunity to gaze into the starry abyss through a variety of telescopes, including the Observatory’s 26-inch Alvan Clark Refractor, dedicated in 1885. 

You’ll also want to check out UVA’s Fan Mountain Observatory, located approximately 15 miles south of Charlottesville. Whereas today UVA uses McCormick Observatory primarily for education and public outreach programs, the majority of the University’s astronomical research takes place at Fan Mountain, which features a broader and more modern array of equipment. Public nights at the Fan Mountain Observatory occur only twice a year, in April and October. Be advised: tickets sell out fast.

But if you’re craving immediate stellar satisfaction, or can’t be bothered to get off the couch, there’s always the Starmap Pro iPhone/iPod Touch app. For $18.99, the program will show you, as you point your gadget’s eyepiece in a particular direction, the corresponding slice of sky. It’s not quite the same as full exposure to the naked cosmos, but at least you know what you’re missing. 

You can ask Ace yourself. Intrepid investigative reporter Ace Atkins has been chasing readers’ leads for 21 years. If you have a question for Ace, e-mail it to ace@c-ville.com.