Physical State of Matt #36: VIRGINIA
- 50statesofmatt
- 14 hours ago
- 12 min read
As I loaded Pierogi and headed east, I was happy to see Branson MISSOURI receding in my rearview. It was about 900 miles to my next destination, Roanoke, Virginia, so I split the driving across two days and the halfway point was Nashville.
I hadn’t really enjoyed Nashville when I stopped there for a night on my way to Memphis during my TENNESSEE week. Maybe I hit it on a bad night the first time, or maybe I hadn’t been in the right mood. Nashville is such a popular spot, I felt fair to give it a second shot.
I got a hotel on the outskirts of the city just off the highway and watched in awe as creamsicle clouds engulfed the area bringing a brief tantrum of summer thunderstorm. Once the rain cleared, I got an Uber downtown to Broadway. And I'll tell you what - it still sucked the second time around.
ROANOKE
I’d chosen Roanoke based on a recommendation from my friend Larissa, who had lived there for a spell. As I previously wrote, Roanoke was the name of the (attempted) first permanent English settlement in the New World, which has become famously known as the Lost Colony. But that was in NORTH CAROLINA.
The city was not named after the colony, but derived its name from the same place. It is based on the Algonquian word rawrenock, which are the white shell beads that they used as currency. Prior to 1884 the city had the unfortunate name of Big Lick, which referred to the natural salt marshes in the area. They drew local wildlife that would lick the ground for salt and other essential minerals.
Incidentally, Virginia is named after Queen Elizabeth I, known as the Virgin Queen because she never married. When you stop to think about it, that’s kinda creepy - 4% of our country is named for the presumed sexual history of a 16th century British queen.
I arrived late on Sunday evening, tired and hungry. Downtown was mostly deserted, but I found The Jaybird Tavern still open and serving food. Their pizza menu was one of the wildest and most inventive I’d ever seen. My taste in pizza is pretty simple, and I tend to eschew these types of gimmicky pies. Jaybird’s were so out there though, that I made an exception, and I was glad I did.
Simply for the name, I almost ordered the Weird Al Pastor (Chorizo pork, salsa verde, tajin dusted pineapple, cilantro, mozz-cheddar blend, cali red sauce). Instead, I opted for The Shak (Italian sausage, sunny-side up eggs, cilantro, feta, pickled red onions, African Bird Pepper Sauce, mozz-cheddar blend, cali red sauce). It was easily the weirdest pizza I’ve ever eaten, but tangy, spicy, and quite exceptional.
Booking my Airbnb had been a circus. After traveling so much, I’d become a bit of an expert on Airbnbs, and I discovered a troubling trend. The original stated spirit of Airbnb was to give travelers a cost-effective alternative to hotels and to give homeowners a platform with which to find short-term guests. What has developed over time is that companies and investors are buying up multiple properties and pushing out individual hosts. It’s a classic case of enshittification, but that's not really news.
What caught me by surprise, was that these management companies have started accepting a booking (and the money for that booking), then requiring guests to provide their personal data through a platform outside of Airbnb before they will give out the check-in details. Call me old fashioned, but I am irked - nay, pissed off - at how commonplace data harvesting has become, and how the public has been forced to accept it.
I know it may seem counterintuitive for someone putting their personal life on the Internet to die on the hill of data privacy, but I will. I book through a platform like Airbnb partly because I can verify my profile there once (with a company with the resources to build serious information security infrastructure) and then I don’t need to share my personal info with everyone I stay with. I will not upload a photo of my drivers license to some random platform just because you say so.
Virginia was the first place I encountered this, but not the last. I booked, got the request for my personal information, and tried to cancel the booking. After a heated exchange with the management company, I got them to drop the requirement for me.
Why do I relay this story? Merely to share my new approach with others that may care about protecting their personal data. I now avoid booking properties that have a company name listed as the host, hosts that have a crazy number of reviews, or those with more a couple listings. I also look for the fine print in bookings (usually buried in the house rules) that another separate check-in process will be required.
I feel like a grouchy “get off my lawn” grandpa pissing into the wind, but I do what I can when I can. The reality is that protecting our data from companies is pretty futile at this point, but I see no reason to make it easy for them. Rant complete.
The accommodations themselves were nice enough but pretty run-of-the-mill. It was an old building that had been converted somewhat recently into apartments. What delighted me however, was the fact that the building also housed A Few Old Goats Brewery, and they had a partnership with a local BBQ truck that set up shop in the parking lot 5 days a week. During my week there, I would return to A Few Old Goats a few times. Their beer was fantastic and their bartenders wonderfully friendly.
Despite it being a thriving city of 100,000 people Roanoke has a chill college town vibe. Virginia Tech is 42 miles away in Blacksburg, but Roanoke houses no major universities itself.
Downtown Roanoke has a comfortable combination of historic charm and modern vitality. Glass and steel buildings stand shoulder to shoulder with classic 19th century construction. Asphalt avenues are interspersed with cobblestone streets and pedestrian zones. At the center of the historic district is Market Square and the iconic City Market Building.
Started in 1882 with licenses issued to 25 “hucksters”, Roanoke’s City Market is the oldest operating farmers market in Virginia.The original building was constructed in 1886. The current building was constructed in 1922 after the original burned down. During its facelift in 2011, four tile mosaics were added at each of its entrances celebrating Roanoke’s history. Today, in addition to the farmers market and local events, the City Market Building hosts a wide collection of local, independently owned restaurants and vendors.
In addition to food and shopping options, the Historic District also has 8 museums including the Science Museum of Western Virginia. If I may tangent, I hope you’ll forgive me a random sidequest about Western Virginia.
“Take Me Home, Country Roads” has become the official state song of West Virginia - or technically one of four official state songs. Inexplicably, it also became the unofficial US song at the past World Cup. Whatever your opinion of John Denver, it is irrefutably
one of the top bar sing-along songs in the US of all time.
Famously, the lyrics start “Almost heaven, West Virginia. Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.” Here’s the irony: West Virginia can only claim 15 of the Blue Ridge Mountains’ 615 miles and 20 of the Shenandoah River’s 256 miles. It would be much more accurate if the song said “Almost heaven, Western Virginia”.
In fact, none of the song's writers had ever visited West Virginia when they wrote it. Bill Danoff (who was inspired to write the song while driving through Maryland) originally name checked his home state of Massachusetts, but he and his co-writer Taffy Nivert (what a name) didn’t think it sounded “musical enough”. They chose West Virginia simply because it had the right number of syllables. The song could have just easily been about Arizona or North Dakota.
Sidequest complete. Country Roads Achievement unlocked.
I didn’t visit the Science Museum of Western Virginia. I did, however, spend a bunch of time at a different museum in the same building - the Roanoke Pinball Museum. I had expected it to be a display of machines showing the progression of the game since its invention in 1931 - and it was that. But also, for $13.50 they let visitors play them all as much as they want - and I wanted.
I like video games as much as the next guy, but I’ve always had a special love for pinball. The tactile, physics-based quality of it just makes it hit different. It's unpredictability make it more exciting, and also more infuriating.
Modern pinball usually costs around $1 a game at a bar or arcade, so I usually limit myself to a couple of plays. But unlimited? My inner ten-year-old took the wheel. They had some familiar titles including my all time favorite Revenge From Mars and nostalgic ones like Medieval Madness that I used to play at the local pool hall in my teens.
Over the course of the next five hours I must have played two hundred games on twenty machines. I stopped only when I could actually feel the carpal tunnel developing in my wrists and the rumbling in my tummy could be heard over the games’ cacophony.
The following day I hiked Dragon’s Tooth Trail in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest, a 4.7 mile out-and-back up to the peak of Cove Mountain. The last mile was very steep. Occasional footholds had been hammered into the rock, but more often than not I had to clamber up walls of rock on tenuous little shelves.
At one point the hike crossed paths with the Appalachian Trail. I think that anyone who likes to hike has, at one time or another, had at least a fleeting thought of hiking the AT. What an adventure that would be, what a challenge and accomplishment. I’ll admit that when I was brainstorming two years what crazy shit to do with my life I had considered it.
Thankfully, although this doesn’t always happen, my sensible side kicked in. I hate biting bugs because they love me, I have a bad back and shitty knees, and I like little things like beds and toilets too much to willingly deprive myself of them. Besides, accounts like Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods”, and Cheryl Strayed’s “Wild” (that’s the Pacific Crest Trail, but same difference) had long ago disabused me of the notion that it would be a good idea.
The hike was challenging, but I finally made it to the tall spires of rock at the top that give the trail its name. The view from the top was worth the trek. A series of rolling hills and mountains stretched to the horizon, the color of each ridge getting progressively more blue through the thick summer air. It was a weekday, so I had the place to myself. I sat in silence for a while, rehydrating and watching several hawks circle a few hundred feet away at my eye level.
That evening I went to see live music at a venue that had been recommended to me called The Spot on Kirk. A young West Virginia-based folk band called Kindred Valley was playing.
On the walk there I stopped in at a spot called the BiblioPub that had just opened. It was a cute bookstore with a small counter that served coffee, beer, wine, and small bites. A book club sat on couches at the back discussing their current selection. I had a nice chat with the owner and her mom who were working behind the bar.
The Spot on Kirk was smaller than I had imagined. It was a long narrow space with a few tables at the back, rows of chairs, and a stage at the far end. The band was quite good, though not really to my taste. Still, live music is live music, and I enjoyed the set.
For dinner I tried Jack Brown’s Beer and Burger Joint. As I entered, they were playing the Mighty Mighty Bosstones which was followed by an awesome playlist of punk rock. The decor was eclectic, the beer list deep, and the food excellent. I had found my spot. I spent a very contented couple of hours there eating, drinking, and watching the first episode of South Park season 27 on the TV above the bar. Sidequest #2:
South Park’s creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, are two of the most prolific and biting satirists in human history. In the first 26 seasons of the show they created 325 half-hour episodes of the most gleefully profane and equal-opportunity offensive social commentary that television has ever seen. They created an unparalleled production pipeline that allows them to create an episode in 6 days so they can write about the headlines of the moment. They often finish episodes mere hours before airing.
These are the same guys who wrote The Book of Mormon and showed up at the 72nd Academy Awards (the year The South Park Movie’s “Blame Canada” was nominated for Best Song) tripping on acid and wearing dresses modeled after ones that had been worn by Jennifer Lopez and Gweneth Paltrow in previous years.
It had been years since I’d seen an episode and little did I know that the one I watched would be an instant cultural touchstone that made even my jaw hit the floor.
A little background: South Park is consistently one of the most streamed shows in the world on any platform. HBO Max’s license to carry South Park was expiring and there was a bidding war. Paramount, who owns Comedy Central where the show first airs, badly wanted it back for Paramount+.
Paramount, who had an $8 billion merger with Skydance under federal review, had just settled a lawsuit with Trump over 60 Minutes for $16 million. Stephen Colbert (whose show aired on CBS) called the settlement a “big fat bribe” on his show and received word days later that he would be cancelled at the end of its current contract for “financial reasons”. This was on July 17th, just 6 days prior to the airing of this South Park episode.
On the day of the episode, Paramount announced a deal with Matt and Trey. They would receive $1.5 ba-ba-ba-billion dollars for streaming rights to the back catalog and $250 million a year for the next 5 years for new episodes. Then the show aired.
It depicts Trump, just like the show did with Saddam Hussein years ago, as Satan’s lover, mocks him for having a tiny penis, and pokes fun at his proclivity for lawsuits. At one point Jesus urges the residents of South Park “You guys saw what happened to CBS? Yeah, well, guess who owns CBS? Paramount! Do you really wanna end up like Colbert?...Just shut up, or we're going to get canceled, you idiots,". But it was the finale of the show that really made waves.
In the show, the city of South Park settles a lawsuit with Trump, and as part of the settlement they have to do Pro-Trump messaging. The episode ends with a photo-realistic deepfake PSA showing Trump stumbling through the desert and stripping off his clothes. As he lays on the sand his tiny penis, with little animated eyes on it, rises into frame and says “I’m Donald J. Trump and I endorse this message” - on regular cable television. Youtube won't let me embed the video but you can watch it here.
I love seeing people stand up to bullies, and Matt & Trey knew they had the leverage. The message was loud and clear - “I double dog dare you to sue us”. He hasn’t. Watching it live felt like I was witnessing a cultural moment, and I did it at Jack Brown’s in Roanoke, Virginia.
Okay, sidequest complete. I Hate You Kenny Achievement unlocked.
Full, wildly amused, and pleasantly buzzed, I wandered down the street and into Martin’s Downtown Bar & Grill for more beer and music.
One could be forgiven for thinking that by now the human race has tried every combination of musical genres that could possibly be done, but at Martin’s I found a new one: death metal-bluegrass.
A lone long-haired dude with a backing track banged his head on stage and screamed into a microphone while plucking a banjo. Never have I ever. Maybe it was because I was mildly impaired, or perhaps because I was in such a good mood, but I didn’t hate it. In fact, I respected the guy for getting up there and giving it his all.
The next day I stayed in, read, and nursed a hangover. The afternoon was laundry time - thankfully the Airbnb had a washer and dryer in the unit. I washed my clothes without any issue, but after the dryer had been running for a short while it started making weird sounds. Acrid smoke filled the apartment, Gagging, I had to open the windows. I unplugged the dryer and removed my sodden clothes.
After another tense exchange with the Airbnb management company, I drove around town looking for a laundromat. The first two required me to load money onto a card to use their machines, and the lowest amount I could add was $20. I finally found one that took quarters on my third try. Yet another one of these modern fucking “conveniences” that isn’t designed to actually benefit anyone other than the business owner. I feel like I sound particularly cranky, but the non-stop travel was starting to wear me down.
On my way out of town, I stopped by the iconic Roanoke Star atop Mill Mountain overlooking the city. The 88.5-foot tall neon sign was erected in 1949 by the local merchants’ association to attract publicity and visitors. It was originally intended to be lit only during the Christmas season, but it became so popular with Roanokers that they began lighting it every night of the year.
Roanoke was truly picturesque from that vantage point, nestled into a lush valley, surrounded by green and blue mountains. It had been a chill week, and I’d really enjoyed my time there. Roanoke had felt really comfortable and I could easily see myself returning.
The plan had been to go to Delaware next, but I was fried. I’d done 10 states back to back, and had been going non-stop for over two months. I still had 14 states remaining, but I decided to give myself a couple weeks off to recharge.
So rather than going to Delaware, I unexpectedly bought a house.
Yes, and…
Matt
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