Two Charity Events, Two Trains, One Kentucky Derby, and a Welsh Dragon

Man, the shit is getting real at the Kentucky Derby.

Nice stud, wot?!

This weekend, I attended two charity events in two days, which I expect is a first for me. On Friday night, Ms. B. and I accompanied our friends Joe and Suzy Albanese to the fund-raising auction & gala at Piedmont Classical High School, where Suzy teaches. A few weeks ago, I went to the school to speak to students about writing (see "The Author Speaks," April 18, 2017), and this weekend, Suzy was kind enough to pick up a copy of Blue Devil Island to offer at the auction. Happily, it commanded a good price for a good cause. The school provided live music, drinks, and a massive spread of excellent hors d'oeuvres, which made for an enjoyable and worthy event.

And last night, Ms. B. and I accompanied our friends Jenny Chapman and Doug Cox to Autumn Creek Vineyards to attend the fancy Run for the Roses Derby Day, their annual fundraiser for Help, Inc., an organization that helps victims of domestic violence. Derby Day is a fairly lavish affair, with a huge auction, raffles for prizes, a catered buffet, Autumn Creek wine, more live music, and the Kentucky Derby on a huge screen TV (my horse did not win, alas). All in all, a most entertaining and worthwhile experience, and I must say I should enjoy making this a regular tradition.

Beth and Suzy at the Piedmont Classical High School Gala

Ms. B. sporting a fancy-ass hat for Kentucky Derby Day

The crowd gathers to watch the Kentucky Derby at Autumn Creek Vineyards

Once again, I spent part of the weekend helping out my mom in Martinsville, while also managing to get in some hiking and geocaching. Yesterday morning, I took a long hike on the trails at Bryan Park North to pick up some of Night-hawk's new hides, and he was kind enough to offer me a first-to-find opportunity on one of them prior to its publication as a birthday bonus for an old, decrepit man. I rather enjoy the trail there that runs near the train tracks because there you are, out in the middle of the woods, and — what do you know — here comes a big old train rumbling past you. While I was out there, two trains came by, one running north, one running south (not at the same time!). I tend to enjoy train-spotting, as long as I'm not sitting endlessly at a railroad crossing while a long one goes creeping by.

The section of trail of Bryan Park North that runs near the train tracks

Tis far better to encounter one of these while hiking in the woods than while sitting at a railroad crossing

This morning, after running some errands in Martinsville, I headed up to Fairy Stone Park in Patrick County, VA, to go after a relatively new cache hidden there. It proved a quick find at a scenic spot near Philpott Lake, making for find #9,419. I quite love that area, I do, as I spent quite a bit of time there from the time I was a little kid through my college days at nearby Ferrum College. And finally, on the way back home, I stopped in Reidsville at The Celtic Fringe to satisfy my craving for their Welsh Dragon burger, which is a third-pound Angus beef patty simmered in their one-and-only Welsh Dragon ghost pepper sauce and topped with pepper jack cheese, candied red cabbage, arugula, and mayonnaise. (I even like to dip my french fries — which are excellent, by the way — in a side cup of the sauce.) Make no mistake, this is pure, delicious, wonderful hellfire! The flavorful, always perfectly cooked burger, the candied red cabbage, and just a veneer of mayo perfectly complement this sweet but fiery ghost pepper concoction. Inevitably, if you order a Welsh Dragon Burger, your server will ask you if you're aware of what you're getting into, and justifiably so, as I can only imagine the folly of some tyro with a passing fondness for hot sauce going all-out with one of these.

Not a good idea, my friends.

Kimberly's birthday is coming up this week, so more festivities loom — as do sixteen tons of work at the office as well as at home. One of these days, I've gotta get some rest.

Bigfoot's latrine? Near "VSP Get L.O.S.T. at Fairy Stone State Park" (GC6YJVW)

The old dude on the hunt at Fairy Stone Park

Arf'ing hot, man.

"The Author Speaks" (or "How to Drive Dozens of Young Innocents into the Pit of Despair")

The author offers words of wisdom to prospective young writers: "I hear there's a lot of money
to be made servicing HVAC systems." (Photo by Stephen Varsi)

My good friend and educator par excellence, Suzy Albanese, recently invited me to speak on the subject of writing to her English and Creative Writing classes at Greensboro's Piedmont Classical High School. Now, I'm always honored when someone considers me worthy of sharing some wit and wisdom to a class full of impressionable young minds, but I will admit to having some trepidation about the prospect, for at various times in the past, I have taught and/or given presentations to human people of all age groups, from elementary school through college. It's not always pretty. There was that nine-year-old girl in a class at the local art center many years ago whose dad was a lawyer, and she assured me that he would sue the pants off me if I made her complete any assignment she didn't consider fun. To this day, I'm not sure how I managed to keep my pants. On the other hand, when I taught an art course for adults at a community college once long ago, one of my students turned out to be my toughest high school English teacher, and the payback was sweet delight. As often as not, though, I've had to nurse that continual worry about losing my pants, particularly when the students are of junior high to high-school age.

Happily, this most recent adventure rendered my concerns moot, for the crew of students attending my (totally improvised) talk proved intelligent, attentive, courteous, and personally engaging. (I suspect they have some good teachers and — clearly — more than a dash of home training.) Many of them were able to converse knowledgeably about not only the fundamentals of writing in general but about horror in particular. Now, some of them might have been disappointed to learn that I do not hang out regularly with Stephen King, or live in a huge haunted house overlooking an ancient graveyard, or write a bestseller every night so I might travel the world in luxury, but no one appeared to be discouraged from diving into the pit and exploring the various shadowy corridors of their own creative minds. Try as I might, I don't believe I convinced anyone to abandon their literary aspirations for more secure and exhilarating adventures in the world of certified public accountancy. More's the pity, for surely we need more accountants; I certainly do come tax time.

At the end of the scheduled talk, several of the students came to converse with me one-on-one, which I must say I appreciated. All in all, I came out of the school with a bit more faith in at least some members of the younger generation than I had going in.

Thank you, Mrs. Albanese, for the experience was a pleasure.

These young folks are actually listening and taking notes, not fiddling with their phones.
C'est magnifique! (Photo by Stephen Varsi)