This is it

Wow. I have to give the guy who writes my prescriptions a little sumthin sumthin extra for Christmas 2010. I made it through this entire day, including a goodbye with one of my best friends and a lavish inter-office ceremony in the basement featuring unsweetened Kool-Aid and leftover fruitcake WITHOUT dissolving into waterworks.

Which wasn't easy.

A little over four years ago, I rolled into the Virginian-Pilot still sort of green and unpolished with only a computer and a phone. Today I leave, just slightly more professional, with a fierce roster of the who's who in Hampton Roads and an internal cocktail recipe "app" that would put most bartenders to shame.

Now that I'm here up on this podium, I want to take this opportunity to thank all the wonderful people I've worked with; I'm going to miss most of you. (Smile.) Seriously, all the writers, editors, designers and administrative staff here are lovely, hardworking people and I have a ton of respect for you all.

Thanks to the DJs, the club owners, the bartenders, promoters and the door people who didn't bat an eyelash when I was a hot, stanking mess, crawling on my hands and knees on a dirty floor at 2 in the morning, looking for my cell phone. (Kidding! I only did that once.)

All the many amazing friends I've made here - you know who you are - I love you.

To the "haters": thank you. You help me make peace with the fact that even when you're fabulous (ahem) and good to people, not everybody will like you, which is tough to swallow but ultimately extremely liberating. So yeah, thanks. And if you're mad now, baby, wait til you see my next move.  

Thank you to the people who've written or called to say you enjoyed the work and given me kudos and criticisms when it wasn't on point. Thank you to the students that came here, or invited me to your school to share what I know. I'm truly humbled by that and hope I helped you in some way. Nuff respect.

This whole leaving thing is tough - but so necessary. I'm a little bit afraid of the future, but that's good; I'm more afraid of staying comfortable. Hopefully 2010 will bring the same for you too: new adventures, new challenges, change, progress, growth and freedom.

Whatever you do in life, move through it with kindness and respect for one another!

Good luck to each and every one of you.

Peace!

Malcolm Venable

*See you Friday?

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Party of the decade

Well, the first one anyway.

Come join me and lots of special friends on Friday, Jan. 8th at the aloft hotel in the Greenbrier section of Chesapeake.

DJ Bee, whom we all know as a great hip-hop DJ, is spinning an extra-special set of funk, house music, disco, and vintage R&B -- the kind of music for NOT standing around trying to look affected and cute but actually letting loose, cutting up and partying like the fun and free-spirited people I know you are.

No attitudes, drama or cornballs, please.

Fabulous food done by the people at aloft.

And it's all free, from 8 pm to 12 am!

Remember though, what happens at aloft..

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What were your favorite albums of the decade?

Yesterday, the Washington Post released lists of the best/most influencial things in culture (film, fashion, art, theater) for the 2000s. I was surprised at how much I agree with! Chris Richards' list included The Strokes' 'This is It'; OutKast's ;Stankonia'; D'angelo's 'Voodoo' and MIA's 'Kala' on his list and I have to say I wholeheartedly concur with these pics as they are all albums I still keep in constant rotation to this day. Check it out here.

Though his list was very good, there's always room for improvement! I would hasten to add, as the best albums of the decade:

"The Blueprint" - Jay-Z

"Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

"Scissor Sisters" - Scissor Sisters

"Hot Fuss" - The Killers

"Back to Black" - Amy Winehouse

"Late Registration" - Kanye West

Yours?

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Susan Boyle hooks up with local hip-hop producer

No, seriously.

Nottz, the somewhat reclusive Norfolk-based producer who's done tracks for everyone from Dr. Dre, Kanye, Biggie and many more, has remixed Susan Boyle's "I Dream a Dream" and posted it on YouTube. Check it out here.

Now, us being only marginally interested in Boyle -- we don't really see why it's considered a big deal that a frumpy lady can sing (have you never been to church?) -- we've always been kind of 'meh' about her and this song. But we must say, Nottz's sparse, snare and kick drum beat laid over the orchestral song make it sound pretty good. Really good, actually.

The only question is, why?

Perhaps Nottz was trying to send the message that he's so talented, he can take veritably any material and make it sound good.

Or maybe he was crunk off that egg nog and smoking on some mistletoe.

Child, I guess.

Thanks to the amazing DJ Jeyone, son!

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It's time to stop pretending we don't notice Madonna's rapidly changing face

Disclaimer: I have nothing against (good) plastic surgery. Real talk, let me see a wrinkle or something slipping prematurely and I will be booking a flight to Boca to see Dr. Fleishman before you can say 'more painkillers, please.'

Oh sure, I used to be one of those finger-wagging people that thought chopping up the face was some sort of blasphemous act, but come on. We bleach our teeth, get weaves, wear fake nails, add lifts in our shoes, spray on tans and do tons more things in the name of cosmetic vanity, and no one thinks those are considered odd. If there's something about your appearance that makes you self-conscious and you have a means of fixing it, by all means, slice it up.

That being said, WTH is going on with Madonna's face? Have you seen it lately?

This is so jarring because, once upon a time, Madonna was the poster girl for (slightly pretentious) yoga rejuvenation. Yet on the low, homegirl was quietly pumping her face full of more chemicals. It was just a year ago that New York magazine was gushing about how the Medical Material Girl was the new face of, well, face: she personified the new(ish) move towards getting more youthful and natural looking injections and fillers, rather than old-school nips and tucks. (BTW, there's an amazing medical spa on Granby Street, Skin, which has fierce relatively low-priced injections that will take decades off your face. Ask me how I know!)

Anyhoo, yes, Madonna. Just as recently as "Confessions" she looked, you know, mature, but juicy and plump in the face. (Yet, you can always tell by the hands. A woman like say, Demi More, can look like a 25-year-old above the neck, yet be spooked when you look down at her hands. You know the type, that 5th Avenue, stay-in-Chanel lady whose paws look like a three-dimensional subway map. Yes. Whoever comes up with hand plastic surgery will die rich. And also, did you see that Saturday Night Live with Madonna and Lady Gaga? Madge has the floppy, wiggly pancake booty of an 82-year-old man. And to be clear, I never want to see that in a leotard.)

So, yeah. While she once looked dubiously youthful, Madonna's new face is chopped and screwed harder than a Lil Wayne track. Look at that ad above! It's like she's always saying, 'Who?' or 'How?'

Poor thing. Probably will only be able to drink through a straw by 2015.

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But first, the bad news

Perhaps you heard, but in a few weeks I will be leaving The Virginian-Pilot.

I truly didn't think writing those words would be as wrenching as this is, but, whoomp. There it is. 

Come 2010 I will be in the strategic planning department at The Martin Agency, an advertising firm based in Richmond that ranks as one of the top five in the country. My role will involve cultural consulting, journalistic stuff and marketing and research. I don't really know much more yet. No shade, I could very well be tending to Beyonce's wigs come June. Let's hope for the best.

The years I've spent blogging here, polluting your inboxes and screens with trivial brain farts disguised as meaningful conversation have been absolutely thrilling. I am humbled and flattered by the many requests to keep blogging -- and truth be told, I don't want to give up free concert tickets, CDs and promotional junk I can sell on eBay-- so stay tuned for information about my blog to launch in 2010.

In the meantime, no sad face. We are saving all whining, whimpering and tears for my last day in Tidewater, so that any expression of emotion of my part will be followed by me promptly leaving town.

So anyway. Here's the fabulous news: we're hosting a bash at the dazzling aloft hotel in Chesapeake, on Friday Jan. 8th from 8 p.m to 12 a.m.

 It's totally free, with funk, house, soul, disco, old-school hip-hop and classic R&B (supreme party playlist) spun by the one and only DJ Bee.

Delish free food dished up by the wonderful aloft folks.

There may be a special performance or two.

You know I'm going out in *style.

*Do try and get there before I pass out.

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The inevitable rap songs about Tiger Woods have begun trickling in

Oh, like you didn't see this coming.

You've no doubt heard umpteen lame jokes from late night comedians -- seriously, if Jay Leno's career were a person, it would be staring down a socialist death panel by now -- but the professionals for whom the Tiger Woods drama is offering up prime, 100% juicy angus beef right now (that's ANGUS, although the other word is certainly appropriate here) is, of course, rappers.

No diggity: you have all the elements of a fantastic rap fantasy here -- loose women met at nightclubs, unthinkable amounts of money, porn re-enactments, vulgarity bordering on the comical, fine watches, Gatorade (goes great with vodka, playa!) sneakers...all this needs to be an epic R. Kelly video featuring 17 different rappers is a yacht and a soundtrack.

Ergo, enter Wes Fif (Don't worry, I never heard of him either) who has penned (again, that's PENNED, not the other word, nasty) the disappointingly un-creative "Tiger Woods." In this extremely NSFW audio bombast, Fif basically says what you'd expect: he has a lot of, um, garden tools, "Tiger Woods."

This one is predictably raunchy and opportunistic -- though we have to admit giggling at "hole in one" -- but, not to worry. Rest assured that everyone from Busta Rhymes to your unemployed cousins in Park Place are in someone's dingy basement  this very minute feverishly cooking up lame "wood" metaphors to be Auto-Tuned and then blasted at a hair braiding party near you.

Anyway, check out Fif's track here.

Crank it up loud it you wanna get fired today!

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Suddenly, Sears gives cool kids a reason to pop in

Used to be that Sears was THE spot on Friday night for husky single men with proletariat fantasies; it's the flyover state equivalent of Barney's, where one can holla a sexy big mama trying on a polyester onesie, buy a new lawnmower AND take a set of soft-light photos in one swoop.

Word. With a Flip cam a few willing extras, you could totally film an homage to your favorite 'Roseanne' episode right there on the floor, with the craft services table serving blocks of cheese and fierce Loose Meat Sandwiches all day son. Learn it and tell a friend.

But times have changed. Looking perhaps to cash in on the dark, edgy and disturbingly faux Satantic mood of current pop music (i.e, Rihanna, Gaga, Lambert) Sears has partnered with Jeweler to the Rockstars Michael Spirito to do a line of jewelry. It's called Rock & Redemption and the pieces are, as you can see modeled here by America's favorite glam queen Adam Lambert, full of all kinds of "I'm-too-edgy-for-this-shopping-mall" elements.

No shade, some of the pieces, like this one above, are kind of dope. And affordable! Check them out here.

Good for Sears. Now, on otherwise humiliating family excursions for baptismal dresses, training bras and motor oil, the lone goth girl in the family can wander off and pick out a lovely chain to attach a chain from her ear to nose.

How lovely.

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The Salahis: this is how you crash a party

Sure, the Salahis (that's the couple who weaseled into the White House dinner the other week) acted inappropriately. Sure, their crashing the White House party reeks of attention-seeking and fame whoring. But you know what? From a strictly party perspective, their move was impressive.

If you go out on the regular, there will be times when you're not on the list. You're someone else's 'plus-one' but they're sick and can't go. It's the party of the year/season, and your invite got lost in the mail. Indeed, there are dozens of scenarios in which your presence is not exactly requested, but for whatever reason, you've decided you're going anyway. Cute. Good for you.

Robin Givhan, the Pulitzer prize-winning fashion columnist from the WaPo, had an amazing, must-read piece the other day: "Why the Salahis got in. They looked like they belonged."  

Certainly, looking the part is one reason they were able to rub elbows with the most powerful person in America. But should you wish to crash a party, there are other things you need to do besides look good.

Trust me, I know; having had crashed, and being the guest of people who were crashing, hundreds of events in New York in my 20s, I have a degree of expertise here. (Heck, I crashed something last night - more on that later.)

Anyway, great crashing techniques: 

- Look good

Look like you belong there. If a suit is appropriate, wear one. (And, a good rule of thumb for being accorded with much respect is to be dressed better than anyone in the room.) If you're already not supposed to be at a gala and you show up in khakis, you're definitely not getting in. 

- Know somebody

You need a name to drop, even if this person hates you. This way, as you're trying to con the person with the walkie-talkie and clipboard, you can repeatedly say, 'I'm on Jim's list.' (This is, in fact, I think the cheif tactic the Salahis used.) When she says, 'Jim doesn't have a list' or 'Yeah, I see it, but you're name is not on it,' You say things like, 'Hmmm, wow. I'm sure that's an oversight. He texted me today.' DO NOT say, 'Is he here?' as a bluff. True, it's probable that Jim is busy and can't be found in a big, loud party, but should Ms. Walkie-Talkie call your bluff and go get him, you've just played yourself big time. Another trick I've employed: get really, really close to the clipboard girl and stall her while you quickly read the names on the list. Pick one. (This is an advanced technique-not at all for the newbie; and if you don't look like an Abdul Nasim El-Shabazz, don't try it.)

- Be patient

You can't just turn away immediately; they'll know you're lying. Sure, it's awkward to be standing there in party limbo but, well, you want to get in right? It feels terrible to hear, 'I'm sorry, can you move over to the side please,' because you're suddenly party roadkill BUT you haven't been yet told no firmly, so you still have a chance. Hang on. Call or text someone. Make occasional eye contact with the doorperson, striking a balance between pity and pride.

- Be polite

This is one of those flies-with-honey moments. When you approach, say 'Good evening,' and throw in some 'ma'ams' to the frazzled PR girl and 'sirs' to the beefy guards. Treat them as though you understand they are the most important people in the world -- they are right then -- and don’t be afraid to flatter and compliment, but don't be an annoying kiss-up. Smile. Project an air of total confidence, even though you're lying through your teeth. This isn't a game for the weak.

- Bring fantastic arm candy

It's usually much easier to crash a party alone -- when someone says 'How many in your party?' And you say, 'Just me,' you're also saying 'I'm not at all hard to accommodate' -- but, you know why not got go all out? I think one extra person is the absolute maximum. If you're a man, bring a fierce looking lady. A woman should bring another beautiful girl (beautiful girls have no problem getting in anywhere, duh). Two dudes is risky.

I've got more tips, but am saving them for another day. Check back for more...

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Hang out, dig some art tonight

Another art party this weekend: this one tonight! and at our home away from home, aloft.

Meet the Artists, happening tonight (Thursday), is an event that benefits the Red Cross. There will be music on the outdoor patio, free food (okaaay?) and an art exhibition and silect auction with proceeds benefiting the Red Cross.

Starts at 6! Fun!

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