I was always very nervous on the first day of school. I remember sitting on the front steps with my backpack, waiting for my carpool to pull up, and having butterflies in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I had the feeling that when I got to school, everything would be different, that […]
There’s a direct connection between the cover story I wrote last week about immigration policy’s affect on the local Latino community and Laura Ingles’ story this week, which looks at Habitat for Humanity’s plan to redevelop trailer parks. It’s no secret that Southwood Mobile Home Park is home to immigrant families and that many of […]
Last week in this column, I admitted to rarely taking a position on local news cuts or delving into national issues, because I’m interested in a more open conversation about the place we live than editorial argumentation generally yields. That said, when logic is exhausted, when self-interest is not a motivating factor for the majority, […]
I have been in Charlottesville at my editor’s desk for a year now. In this line of work—which is, in a way, about keeping time—it means that I have turned a shift. I’ve always thought of three month-, one year-, and three year-anniversaries as important moments in a job. When you start something new, it […]
“Despite its relative affluence, Charlottesville has an income gap problem,” writes our news editor, Graelyn Brashear, in this week’s story about the Green Dot Cooperative . Hmmm. Despite its relative affluence, America has an income gap problem. That has a nice ring to it. Despite my relative affluence, I have an income gap problem. Too […]
A few weeks back I marveled in this column at the clarity of John McPhee’s writing in Coming into the Country, which was written in 1971, the year my older sister was born. McPhee operates as a passive observer in his books, but is almost always intimately connected with his main characters and subject matter. […]
Last week, I joked in the introduction to our feature that I wasn’t 100 percent sure what power was.
There’s no sign of revolution in Charlottesville as I write this. It’s a rainy, off-season Monday morning. No tanks in the streets.
I’ve been on something of a John McPhee bender of late…
Particularly good(e) simile comparing Virgil Goode to a toenail fungus…
The equinox pretty nearly marks the beginning of the spring season in Charlottesville, but summer outpaces its solstice.
My favorite section of the Rivanna Trail is a cul de sac. Bordered by razor wire on one side and a road on the other, it forms a looped pocket trail near the confluence of Meadow Creek and the Rivanna River.
“What am I supposed to do, Giles? I mean, words don’t mean anything anymore,” a friend of mine told me at The Whiskey Jar one day after work, somewhere near her wit’s end.
In a speech at the Sorbonne in 1910, Teddy Roosevelt said, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles…"
I saw A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Blackfriars this weekend and as Shakespeare intended, it made me think, metaphorically, about the way imagination works.
History. His Story. history. We can only ever see the past through the convex lens of the present, one of the truths of epistemology and existence, that, to be frank, is too often ignored.
“‘Organic’ has become a label, as it was destined to be. It’s a completely worthless word now. It has been perverted to suit the needs of industrial agriculture.” That from Wendell Berry, one of the fathers of the movement, in a 2008 interview.
Selected letters from our readers
“As long as the connection subsists between his reason and his self-love, his opinions and his passions will have a reciprocal influence on each other; and the former will be objects to which the latter will attach themselves,” so says James Madison…
Closing the gap When Rose Atkins came to Charlottesville, she was surprised to see so many people in her office. She came from a place that had a lot more children than Charlottesville and was surprised to see the number of secretaries and workers in her office. So we could start there in eliminating some […]
It rained most of the weekend, but the soft, gray light only amplified the color in the new green leaves that are pushing out from the tips of the fruit tree boughs.
“Well, pick up your feet, we’ve got a deadline to meet, and I’m gonna see you make it on time,” sings Roy Orbison in “Working for the Man,” one of those classic American inversion stories where a guy on the line has dreams of replacing his boss and winning his daughter. Americans and work go together like PB&J.
Those words are part of Marcel Proust’s famous description his encounter with a madeleine cookie from Remembrance of Things Past and crystallize his notion of ‘involuntary memory,’ a concept that made it all the way from his literature into the canon of modern psychology.