Today is officially (light) jacket weather!
Photo by: suttonhoo
Good morning, RVA! It’s 54 °F. I don’t want to set your expectations unnecessarily high, but if you were to wear a light jacket today, I think you’d be just fine. It’ll take all the way until late this afternoon for temperatures to hit the low-70s.
The Richmond School Board has sent a letter to the Mayor and City Council (PDF) (make sure you read the accompanying open letter) asking what happens if something on the $35-million list of immediately needed school repairs breaks or fails. This sentence should terrify you: “Although it is not ideal, we do have one vacant school we can utilize should the need arise, but the capacity would not be able to accommodate a major site failure at one of our larger middle or high schools.” There are lots of hard conversations to be had about how to improve RPS and set a long-term vision. This is a different conversation. This is keeping our kids safe and our schools barely operational during the 2014-2015 school year while plans for the future are made.
Living in some parts of Richmond is different than living in other parts. Here’s one man’s fairly blasé reaction to a nearby gunfire exchange caught on camera during an interview with WTVR.
P. Buckley Moss, who I’m embarrassed (but thrilled) to discover is still alive and painting, will visit the Glen Allen Cultural Arts Center on Wednesday. I also had no idea that the Moss Arts Center at Virginia Tech is named after this particular Moss!
Never play dead while being attacked by a black bear, or as this article in the WaPo puts it, “don’t fake your death.”
- Nats face the Mets at 7:05 PM today after a day off.
This morning’s longread
Life as a professional musician, or any public figure, must be the weirdest.
The only people I’d known who liked his music — which at that point I had never heard and knew nothing about — were those sensitive indie boys who idolized Andrew W.K. because they believed him to be the comically outsized personification of the base, dudely desires they claimed they had somehow managed to suppress. Guys who think they deserve sexual favors because they’ve read The Catcher in the Rye. Guys who cuff the sleeves of their cardigans in case they spill while playing Edward 40-Hands. Guys who bitch incessantly that they can’t meet a girl who’s “actually into music.” To them, Andrew W.K. represented the parts of masculinity from which they had distanced themselves, that they could now appreciate “ironically.” But the second you see the guy, it’s obvious that he’s nothing like the image they’d built up of him. I was perplexed and vowed to investigate.
This morning’s Instagram
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