So,we outraced the storm, but got rained out at the Asian Pacific Cafe… we had an incredible dinner there though, and shot the shit with the sushi chef (say THAT 5 times fast!) and even planned the next night’s dinner by fantasizing about the stuff we hadn’t eaten yet.
We ended up over at the Neutral Ground shortly thereafter and just sort of hung out, listening to poetry, waiting for our turn to come out… it turned out that the guy who was slated to go before us didn’t show up, so we got a two hour gig as opposed to just the one hour – and started a whole lot earlier, while there were still people there! I had a really good time…
It’s funny – whereas Houston will Live in my memory as a city of roaches, New Orleans is a city of cats. They roam everywhere, peering out from under cars and crossing the streets at random. Their low-slung, slinking shapes can be seen silhouetted on building-tops and car-tops and roof-tops and wrought-iron fire escapes. They are harassed by tourists, and fed by tourists, ignored and petted by tourists.
I guess they’ve migrated in vast herds across the plains of America, drawn by the magnificent tales of the multitudes of rats… much as settlers followed the trails of tales of gold in the 1800’s, so now do the cats follow the trails of tales of tails.
God I’m clever.
We spent the night at Al’s house (Al of the Asian Pacific Cafe) and it’s a nice, sweet, sleep. The buzz of ceiling fan and his son watching the Cosby Show. It’s a good way to drift away… in the morning, there was even a lizard outside my window, puffing up his little puffy sack… Any second now, Heather and I are going to head out to wander New Orleans before we play tonight. Get our tourist on.
12 days.
