A Krewe X 2: And So It Begins . . .

EXPECT THINGS NOT TO GO AS EXPECTED

09-28-13 Bike Ride Me

‘Selfie’ Taken During the Chewbacchus 2014 Kickoff Bike Ride

Although my vision of My Year of Mardi Gras has always been to paint a broad, layered portrait of New Orleans and its food, music, people, and culture, the heart of my mission upon embarking was to join at least one Mardi Gras Krewe and document that experience. Since arriving in town on February 6th, though, my path has taken many unexpected twists and turns.

My dramatic housing search, in particular, lasted over half the year. Attempts to reach out to other blogs, volunteer at WWOZ or the Jazz & Heritage Foundation, or promote the site though handing out cards and pure force of personality at local events paid little dividends. On the other hand, I’ve had much more success than anticipated connecting with local authors and encountered unexpected enthusiasm with resurrecting an old novel. Now working with someone to resubmit this book for publication has been a major unexpected endeavor. I have also met a small but growing group of talented and intriguing artists and intellectuals that have made ‘Red Beans on Monday’ an emerging success. So there have been surprises and disappointments, and I should have known that the only thing you can plan on is that things won’t go as planned. Still, somewhere amidst these triumphs and tribulations I began to fear I’d lost sight of that core mission.

Until I received [Read more…]

French Quarter Living: Labor Day Last Hoorah!

WAITING FOR THE OTHER SHOE TO DROP (SNAKES WITH FEET?!)

My Favorite French Quarter View: Leaning Out the Bathroom Window!

Favorite French Quarter View:
Leaning Out Bathroom Window!

It will be two weeks Monday in my new home and so far so good. For the first time since heading this way in February I feel settled and truly able to focus on not only the blog but other writing and personal goals. My Year of Mardi Gras is a gift to myself and if at times I’ve seem frustrated, it’s because I felt like I was inadvertently squandering this precious time. There is not much of a chance for this adventure to fail (my motto, remember, is that if this blog fails it will be the most fun failure in history!) but if I look back and realize I squandered my time on foolish drama (i.e. Jake & Snake) that would qualify.

It Looked Quaint & Funky...

It Looked Quaint & Funky…

Granted, I did get some great stories from the debacle and had more reader responses to those posts than just about any others. If I am able sell this adventure as a memoir, it may turn out to be hours well wasted. Sometimes, though, you don’t realize just how stressed you were until removed from a situation, and the release of tension from my shoulders has surprised even me. Not only has my blood pressure plummeted, but my mind is clear and focused. I moved into that quaint but crumbling French Quarter apartment where gray dirt rained down from the ceiling on a daily basis coating floors and furniture like living in a coal camp because it teamed with history that promised literary inspiration. Instead, [Read more…]

French Quarter Living: Holiday Hanging & Restaurant Reviews

MANDINA’S: OLD STYLE CREOLE ITALIAN FOR AN OLD SOUL

mandinasSince my visiting friend was proud of her Italian and Creole heritage, I headed immediately from the airport to Mandina’s, an 80-year-old Creole Italian institution on Canal in Mid-City. There is a huge Sicilian population in New Orleans (see St. Joseph’s Day) so Creole cooking has a heavy Italian influence along with its French (colonization) and African (exploitation) roots. Thus, it’s common to see red sauces—or ‘red gravy’—on the menu with fried seafood po-boys and gumbo, and the Muffuletta sandwich now ubiquitous locally was created by the Italian Central Market Grocery back when the French Market was an active and thriving Italian food and produce stand rather than the t-shirt and trinket bazaar of today.

Mandina'sI first tried Mandina’s right after Mardi Gras when I was sick and staying in the CBD. At the time I could barely breathe and couldn’t taste anything but the fried oyster po-boy I ordered there was the only thing I mildly enjoyed. Since their food tasted good when nothing did I couldn’t wait to try it in good health.

Mandina’s is an old open house with white table clothes on square tables and pictures on the wall—classic old style New Orleans. Our waitress had a thick ‘Yat’ accent (Brooklyn meets [Read more…]

The Last Known Survivor (Fan) Stalks His Prey In The (Humid N’Awlins) Night

A COCHARONA AND A TWIST OF LIME

DSC02791Now that I was back in New Orleans with renewed health and vigor, I set aside my annoyance at kitchen pillaging and headed out that first night to enjoy Frenchman Street with clear sinuses and renewed excitement. There was a steady crowd for a Saturday but, being off-season, no place was packed. No band grabbed my attention, so I found myself in the Spotted Cat clutching a beer so instantly drenched in condensation that it was almost warm before I took the first sip. The Jazz Vipers with Craig Klein of Bonerama on trombone were playing but I could barely hear from my perch at the. Besides, the singer seemed more intent on telling rambling stories than leading the band.

Survivor_-_Too_Hot_To_SleepThe humidity prodded me to skip the obligatory Abita and order a Corona. As I watched the condensation roll down the bottle on this sultry sub-tropic night I was reminded of a song lyric that had confounded me in my youth. Survivor was my favorite band in Jr. High and (being one of thirty people who purchased it) I loved Too Hot To Sleep, their final album. My strict Baptist upbringing, though, provided little vocabulary for drinking, and I was always puzzled by the title track that described the singer sitting alone at a tropical bar under a swirling ceiling fan watching a beautiful woman across the room and singing: “A cocharona and a twist of lime / Keeps me cool when I’m alone.” That was P.G.A. (Pre-Google Age), so I spent years wondering what a cocharona was. As I now [Read more…]

New Orleans Tourist to New Orleans Tenant: The Voice Part 1 (Existential Sonar Pings)

PICTURESQUE TROPICAL FRAMES

20130523_133836

Strolling Tropical Streets

Although I’m back in New Orleans, my need to reflect and process continues after months of frantic, unrelenting madness running from Mardi Gras to Jazz Fest, so to clear my head this morning I ambled through quaint back streets of Uptown for a long stroll to Slim Goodies for breakfast with Trombone Shorty on my i-pod. I returned last night in time for this repeat appearance by Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue at Wednesdays in the Square following their triumphant set closing out Jazz Fest, and I was still buzzing this morning from their bouncing melodies. The summer heat and humidity is just setting in, prompting a light and pleasant sweat, and the air was filled with fragrant blooming flowers I can’t identify but that stir my soul nonetheless. As I wandered along my eyes feasted on the vibrant and historic architecture that these spring blooms enveloped in picturesque tropical frames.

Victorian Gothic

Victorian Gothic

In Bloom

In Bloom

WEALTH WITHOUT VISION VS WEIRDNESS ON STERIODS

Slim Goodies for Breakfast After 40 Minute Stroll

Slim Goodies for Breakfast After 40 Minute Stroll

I moved here from tropical north Florida yet in nearby Ponte Vedra Beach, the richest enclave north of West Palm, the limitless money on display displays no imagination. I have always been disillusioned by the prominent faux-Spanish McMansions that are photo-copied and crowded along the shore as monuments to wealth without vision. To the south, St. Augustine provides a welcome contrast with its tropical gardens, southern Victorian porch-and-column architecture, and artistic quirkiness. Uptown New Orleans is more like the latter if St. Augustine had bred like rabbits and juiced up its weirdness and creativity on ‘roids.

Tropical Sidewalks In Bloom

Tropical Sidewalks In Bloom

Who Wouldn't Want To Live In This House With These Street Corner Names?

Who Wouldn’t Want To Live In This House With These Street Corner Names?

 

 

 

 

MAGNIFICENT MANSIONS, QUAINT COTTAGES, & VISUAL NON-SEQUITURS

Candy Land!

Candy Land!

The Garden District is the most famous iteration of Victorian southern architecture in New Orleans with it’s mansions of towering columns, wrapping wooden porches, massive shuttered windows revealing peeks into elegant parlors, and lush gardens; yet all of Uptown reflects this aesthetic if to a smaller, quainter scale.

20130523_112347Granted, current denizens can’t take credit for the historic architecture, but they have embraced the spirit. There is no cookie-cutter conformity in this city where it’s a virtue to stand out and march to a different drum. Each house is unique, as is every street, and every resident seeks to add their own touch. As I perused this individuality on display one house caught my attention and I had to stop for a photograph. The rocking chairs and tropical vegetation brought to mind Key West while the beads hanging from the Medieval porch ornament and colorful wreath by the door were pure New Orleans (as was the decorative iron fence). Yet that rusty suit of armor provided a pleasant thematic non sequitur perhaps hinting at some unknown predilection by the owner. Such tiny but captivating details are the fuel that fire a writer’s imagination. There may be a short story hiding on that front porch just waiting for my discovery.

FIESTY FIFTIES, SULTRY SIXTIES, & JIVE AT SEVENTY-FIVE

20130522_183247In much of the world creativity is the domain of youth but in this city age is no excuse for a fading imagination. During Jazz Fest I was thrilled to see twenty-somethings sing along to Billy Joel and Fleetwood Mac. In contrast, last night as Trombone Shorty turbo-charged his jazz with hard rock, driving funk, hip-hop rhythms, and rap-inflected lyrics, there were locals in their fifties and sixties dancing joyously along; seventy-five year old legend Allen Toussaint even came on stage to lead a call-and-response rap.

20130522_190603I’ve always felt that if you only listen to the music of your generation then you don’t love music—you love fitting in. Nowhere is this more apparent than in this city where past and future collide on a daily basis. I’ve said it time and time again—people who think New Orleans is stuck in the past are fools. This is a city mines the beauty and wisdom of the past as it thoughtfully wades into the future as opposed to rushing forward without direction.

BULGING GUTS, BURSTING INSEAMS, & JAZZ HAND WHERE THEY SHOULDN’T BE

610 Stompers On Parade

610 Stompers On Parade

As for the need to stand out, there can be few better examples of the 610 Stompers who took the stage before Trombone Shorty. Mardi Gras parade staples, this group of young to middle-aged men wear knee socks, head bands, nylon short shorts, and seventies color-contrast t-shirts, executing dance routines filled with hip thrusts that accentuate bulging waists and bursting back inseams, leg kicks of unathletic grace and height, and jazz hands where jazz hands shouldn’t be. Composed mostly of professionals, these men certainly aren’t making money but are becoming parade favorites. This city rewards weirdness and these guys have found a way to be of New Orleans even while working very American corporate day jobs.

610 Stompers On Stage

610 Stompers On Stage

I have always beaten a unique path, so this celebration of weirdness drew me here as much as the embrace of deeper culture, and this melding of high art and lowball self-expression unfolded in perfect metaphor as the 610 Stompers ceded the stage to perhaps the city’s most talented and promising young musician. While he’s clearly an entertainer with his brash, engaging, and—I’ll just say it—badass swagger, at twenty-seven Trombone Shorty also displays the musical depth and genius of a legend in the making. It was a transcendent moment and just another night in New Orleans.

EXISTENTIAL SONAR PINGS

Iowa Gumbo? Another Competing Voice

Iowa Gumbo?
Another Competing Voice

Thus I’m basking in the moment, living in a city where every walk is a visual feast; every bar a sonic awakening; every meal a gustatory temptation; and every day an infinite promise of the strange and unanticipated. Yet living in the presence of such brilliance can also inspire existential sonar pings, bouncing your self-doubt off unseen shadows in the future’s murky depths. Some days I feel quietly confident while others I fear I’m just mildly delusional as I actively and aggressively seeking to connect with the local creative scene, sniffing whiffs of imminent triumph that are always followed by reminders of ‘two steps forward, one step back.’ Thus as I walk I reflect and wonder if I can find The Voice in this chaotic chorus of competing counter melodies to forge these writings into something more than just a personal indulgence.

TO BE CONTINUED . . . .

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Jazz Fest 2013, Day 7: Black Keys Add Little Color, Irma Thomas Still Soul Queen, & Trombone Shorty Crowned King

THE BIGGEST ‘BONER YOU’VE EVER SEEN!

Jazzfest2013 Trombone Shorty 2For over twenty years The Neville Brothers have closed out the main Acura Stage at Jazz Fest with a slight post-Katrina disruption. Per organizers, this has at times spawned awkward conversations, informing superstars like Santana, Neil Young, Van Morrison, Foo Fighters, and Kid Rock that they would be opening up for these local legends rather than vice versa. Local jam band The Radiators traditionally closed the Gentilly Stage on the opposite end of the fairgrounds but times they are a changing.

The Black Keys: Opening for Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue

The Black Keys:
Opening for Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue

When Aaron Neville recently parted with his brothers it demoted The Nevilles to opening for Dave Matthew and him to closing out Jazz Fest 2013 at the Gentilly Stage. The Radiators also split after decades together, though most members were represented elsewhere. Thus it was a little surprising to learn the replacement for The Nevilles would be rising star Trombone Shorty with his band Orleans Avenue. His national appeal has grown surprisingly over the past few years, especially considering he is rocking out on trombone–A STAR TROMBONE PLAYER– yet in his introduction the MC and festival organizer declared him ‘the future.’ The crowd had thinned somewhat after the Black Keys but there still had to be a good 80,ooo people watching to see if Shorty could fill some mighty big shoes–8 to be exact.

I Went To See Trombone Shorty And A Rusted Root Concert Broke Out!

I Went To See Trombone Shorty And A Rusted Root Concert Broke Out!

Part of Trombone Shorty‘s appeal, though, is [Read more…]

Jazz Fest 2013, Day 6: Fleetwood Mac Daddy (& Mommy), Little Big Time, Cowboy (Closed) Mouth, & Revivalists Redux

FOUR-FIFTHS A LEGEND IS STILL A JAZZ FEST BARGAIN

ABOVE: Fleetwood Mac closes Jazz Fest Saturday with ageless anthem “Don’t Stop”

Jazzfest2013 Fleetwood Mac TrioWhen Fleetwood Mac ended their spirited, age-defying set on the Acura Stage Saturday night with “Don’t Stop” it was the only Christine McVie penned tune (not counting collaborations) they performed. Despite the departure of one of their three singer/songwriters they couldn’t avoid granting a rabid crowd the chance to sing along with their most anthemic and enduring tune. McVie‘s departure, pairing them down to a quartet, is far from the first turmoil in this band’s history. Fleetwood Mac is legendary for [Read more…]

Jazz Fest 2013, Day 5: Funday Muddy Funday

PUNGENT MUD, COLD WIND, & LUKEWARM MUSIC

Jazzfest2013 Funday Muddy FundayThe second Friday of Jazz Fest 2013 was a day unlike any other. Although this is only my 7th or 8th, local performers who had been appearing for decades scratched their heads at the rain, mud, and cold. “It’s the second weekend of Jazz Fest and I haven’t even sweated yet,” declared one WWOZ host. The first Saturday had gotten a little toasty but hadn’t quite topped 80–it just felt warm in contrast to the unseasonable cool. Then the rain had started Sunday for Dave Matthews, thinning the crowds and keeping the weather cool. It rained on off during the three-day break and by Widespread Panic’s set on Thursday it was pouring. Thus by Friday herds of galloping music fans had turned this municipal horse track into a giant mud bog spiked with the pungent smell of horse shit! On top of the mud, the weather turned from cool to downright cold, the wind cutting sharply through my light windbreaker. Worse, with the pop outfit Maroon 5 headlining–not my cup of voodoo juice–and no one strong anchoring the early line up, the music had cooled down as well. That is until [Read more…]

Jazz Fest 2013, Day 4: Widespread Panic Makes Rain For LA, The Dozen Gets Dirty, & Johnny Sketch Hits a Dirty Note

WIDESPREAD PANIC: MAKING RAIN FOR LA

Jazzfest2013 Dirty Dozen in the Rain

The Dirty Dozen Brass Band Plays Before Widespread Panic During One Of Many Rain Showers

The Thursday opening to Jazz Fest’s second weekend is considered ‘locals day’ and tends to be a more laid back affair. The rain that had started Sunday, however, was still lingering and on and off showers that morning and afternoon kept the crowds even thinner than usual for the only Thursday of the festival. By the time perennial favorite Widespread Panic hit the stage, though, the fairgrounds were full. Their faithful wouldn’t be denied and this top-tier jam band delivered a solid show of jazz and funk inflected southern rock, stretching out leads like taffy on a weaving loom.

ABOVE: Widespread Panic opens their Jazz Fest set with “Climb to Safety”

Jazzfest2013 Me at Widespread

A Little Rain Wouldn’t Spoil My Night Of Joy!

Widespread Panic once released a live album called Night of Joy whose title is a shout out to [Read more…]

Jazz Fest 2013, Day 3: Better Than Ezra, Dave Matthews, & The Nevilles; Best of the 90s, Blessed of the 90s, & Rest of the Brothers

GOD AND THE JAZZ & HERITAGE FOUNDATION KEEPS THE PEACE

Jazz Fest 2013 Dave Matthews

Dave Matthews Takes The Stage

I broke up with Dave Matthews fans at Jazz Fest 2001. Although I’d seen Cowboy Mouth several times before that first Fest of the new millennium, I was stoked to see them in this setting where everyone plays their best, especially locals triumphantly returning for the hometown crowd. However, as I tried to reach the Ray Ban Stage (now Acura) the day of their performance, the Dave fans had gotten there early and spread out giant blankets, staked off expansive areas, and generally crowded everyone out. Half the blankets were empty, awaiting late arrivals or just hogging space, and as I tried to tip-toe my way along the edges–they’d block the walkway–I was yelled at and harassed at every turn. For the offense of stepping on the corner of one blanket, a girl jumped up, slapped my rear, and called me a ‘fat ass.’ I couldn’t get anywhere near the stage, but the people up front all had their backs turned, ignoring every other act and talking over the music as they waited. Even Cowboy Mouth, used to a hometown reception, got disgusted and stopped mid-song near the end of the set, dropped their instruments, and walked off stage. I applauded. In that moment, DMB fans became the Newman to my Seinfeld, and I’m not alone. Dave Matthews day is greeted with groans by Jazz Fest fans far and wide.

ABOVE: Dave Matthews opens his set with “Seven”

God Sends The Rain To Keep The Peace

God Sends The Rain To Keep The Peace

This year, though, God and the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation worked at mending fences. At some point between my last Fest in 2003 and my return in 2012, the Foundation instigated new rules: [Read more…]