Tag: Best of C-VILLE

When Kai Rady came to Charlottesville in 1974 with her growing family, her first real challenge wasn’t finding the right schools or dealing with a picky eater—it was a lack of toy stores.

Rady said her first child was a very active and curious infant. “I was always looking for new things to stimulate him,” she said. She vividly recalled an article from Ms. Magazine (“a terrific list of at least 100 items, 90 percent of which were not in the area—including LEGO!”), and realized all the other young parents she met in town were having the same trouble entertaining and educating their kids. In no time at all, she opened a toy shop in her home on Ivy Road and Shenanigans was born.

Over the years, Rady’s priorities in toy-seeking have remained the same. “I’m looking always for play value,” Rady said. “A toy can be very educational…but if they’re not going to play with it, it’s not [useful]. It has to appeal to a child’s sensibilities.”

Rady lets the five senses drive many of her toy selections. “Children appreciate beautiful things, just like adults,” Rady said. She seeks out toys that look or feel good—even toys that simply sound fun, like the noise of suction cups. She also feels that things like playhouses and tents, which allow children to mimic adults and foster independence, are important additions to any playroom.

Rady fondly remembers her own toy-filled childhood. “We had a very toy-rich environment at home,” said Rady, who grew up in New England with two very playful parents. Some of her favorite memories include beloved babydolls and riding her horse, an independence that seems lightyears away in the modern world. “That’s why so many new toys have been invented,” Rady said, “because kids don’t have the freedom they did.”

At first, Rady believed running the store would be a holdover job until she eventually entered graduate school for English, or possibly law. Prior to moving to Charlottesville, she had worked as a copywriter for an advertising agency, an experience she likened to the popular television show “Mad Men.” Far as Shenanigans may have been from her roots, the shop grew quickly and she soon found herself leasing space in the Barracks Road Shopping Center.

After several years there, Shenanigans outgrew its walls once more and moved into a new location on West Main Street. So far, the move has proved a successful one. Always thinking like a parent, Rady was able to widen aisles for stroller access, lower shelves so parents can keep an eye on tots throughout the store, and increase seating for weary caretakers. Improvements at every turn simply make it easier for her to share her knowledge and love of the business. “Play is children’s work,” Rady said. “If they had no toys, they would still play, but we can expand their opportunities for play.”

Rady’s passion for toys is ultimately a passion for children—one she’s held onto nearly 40 years after her first steps into the industry. Shenanigans may be an Irish term for mischief, but in Rady’s world, it’s about fostering young minds. She said with conviction, “We’re raising people, not just raising children.”—Danielle Bricker

“I was working as a substitute teacher in an eighth grade science class while I was also taking my medical school prerequisites at UVA. There was no lesson plan for class one day, so I looked out the window to see if I could find a science project for us to do. And I said ‘O.K., right there. Why are the flowers under that drain spout bigger than the other flowers?’ When I saw the kids picking things up and sniffing things, I thought, this could be my job. I could teach.”

That’s local educator Carlos Pezua on his first “Eureka!” moment. His life, at least in retrospect, has always been that way—a series of “Eureka!” moments leading him to one outcome: teaching.

His first one came at age 13 when, as a forward-looking junior high school student, Pezua toured the Bay Area with his parents. “We went to the [University of California] Berkeley campus, and the vibe of the place was so great I told my folks that that’s where I wanted to go to college,” he said.

The son of a physician in the U.S. Army, Pezua grew up on military installations around the world, from Germany to Panama to Korea and finally Northern Virginia for high school, before earning a scholarship to attend UC-Berkeley.

Once at Berkeley, however, the call of San Francisco’s smorgasbord of social and cultural indulgences, more often than not, was too much for Pezua to resist. He lasted only a semester at Berkeley, and spent the next semester in the city, hip-deep in the music and party scene and loving every minute of it.

When he returned east, he eventually got on a clear path to commencement and earned a degree in politics from UVA. He went to work in Washington, D.C., as staff assistant for Senator Chuck Robb. It was during this episode when he met with another “Eureka!” moment: “It was the autopen,” said Pezua.

One of Pezua’s duties as a senate staffer was to write responses to Senator Robb’s mail and then set an autopen, a device that mechanically replicated the senator’s signature, to sign the letter. He’d then mail it off as though the senator himself had taken the time to address his constituent’s concerns.

“I was standing on my rooftop with my friend one night looking out over the city and I said, ‘There’s got to be more than this. This isn’t enough.’”

So Pezua set off with a friend for Arizona, where he worked as a backcountry ranger for the Park Service at Coconino National Forest. He cruised the Arizona wilderness for a little less than a year then he was back at UVA, where he realized that teaching had been his calling all along.

Pezua was fluent in Spanish, so it was only natural that he would teach the language, which he did for Albemarle County schools for nine years, earning him the Golden Apple Award for best teacher at Murray High School in 2008.

Pezua is no longer in the public school system, but teaches privately, both one-on-one and group sessions. This summer he offered a class upstairs from Mudhouse on the Downtown Mall.

“I’m not so much teaching as learning. I am like a prism,” said Pezua. “I’m breaking down Spanish knowledge and the students are the ones who see the colors. I’m channelling more than anything. When I am teaching someone the Spanish verbs and they finally get it and have that break through and they feel it and I feel it, it’s invigorating. When they get it, it’s an epistemological unlocking. I’m moved by—I’m compelled by the experience.”

The Beatles’ appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” is to blame for Stephen Pollock’s love of music.

“I was nearly 14 and had no idea what I wanted to do with myself until February 9, 1964,” Pollock said. “That was the evening of the first Beatles “Ed Sullivan” appearance. I, like a million other boys and girls, was struck by a sort of lightning that evening, transfixed by the sight of The Beatles rocking out.” He bought a guitar and an amp from Sears with his paper route money and taught himself to play like George Harrison.

In 1986, he joined up with Bebe Buell (lead singer of the Gargoyles, Playboy centerfold in November 1974, and mother of Liv Tyler), and he played alongside music legends like Blue Oyster Cult, Debbie Harry, and Motorhead. He even signed the wall at CBGB after an opening gig for the Ramones.

These days, Pollock is content to play alongside his son, Nick, a singer/songwriter, and in two bands —a rock outfit called PTF (so named for the first initial of each band member’s last name) and a more mellow band called Collector’s Item. He’s also busy adding to his guitar and amp collection, which he began building in the late ’80s.

It tops out at more than 35 guitars and 15 amps, each chosen for Beatles-era accuracy.

“When I was just starting out, I could never afford gear like The Beatles used, but later in life I was able to and I started to collect,” he said. “For most of my career, I rarely had more than three guitars at once.”

Pollock finds most of his instruments on eBay, Craigslist, and Guitar Center, but said his favorites are ones he didn’t even pay for—a 1972 Rickenbacker bass his brother left him when he passed away, and a 1976 Gibson Firebird, which Buell gave him when he joined her band.

“Tremendous fun,” he said. “I had never been happier and that’s where I developed the passion for music, bands, and gear that I feel to this day.”