Ah, New Orleans. I went and visited the spot where they shot a scene for James Bond’s “Live and Let Die”, we wandered looking for good food (easy), good coffee (Cafe Envie – delicious), and good things to photograph – and Heather’s Love of the place is palpable. Above, Bourbon Street. 
One of the first things we did once we were conscious again in New Orleans was to head on over to Jackson Square. Its as good a start-point as any. This is the corner that we couldn’t approach back in January because of Beyonce.
Marvelous day today – despite the almost 90 degree temperatures, despite the sweatbox humidity, despite that dizzy spell that I’m pretending isn’t worrying me. Despite the money spent. Despite the way I ate too much. Today was a bit of over-stimulation that seemed a little more like the New Orleans that I read about – while still being well within the moderate confines of rob-speed.
There’s plenty of thoughts that can accompany that, but we’ll keep it positive, shall we?
We didn’t get out to play tonight. I’m sure if I’d looked hard enough something would have turned up, but we’d spent the day retooling our Kansas presentations and then come back and learned and practiced some songs… ilyAIMY’s now added a trio of new murder ballads to their playlist, they may or may not end up getting kept… and rather than spending the evening working too, we met up with friends and went out for barbecue, wine and jazz. Not a bad way to spend the night.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to be an actual Catholic entering this space. I try at least to show respect – I understand that it’s built to the glory of God, that it’s to be a place of worship, speaking in hushed voices and frankly, I feel that respecting the visual aesthetic of the structure of a church is a form of respect. But there are people chewing gum and narrating loudly to their camcorders and snapshots and selfies are in evidence. There are a couple of people who are clearly here to commune with something greater – and though I’m not one of them, I hope I’m not receiving any of those sidelong glares.
My count is that we’ve been through New Orleans about five times – and we’ve never hung out WATCHING a jazz band. Other singer/songwriters, sure. A couple of mediocre street musicians here and there – but nothing that sparks my imagination, or seemed New Orleans RIGHT. I still want to see like a monster brass band of some sort (though really, isn’t what I crave Will Schaff’s What Cheer Brigade?) and what I really REALLY crave is more Mississippi BLUES that New Orleans jazz – but unfortunately we were in and out of Jackson too fast to explore music there. I don’t think Heather or Kristen is really into the sound (as a matter of fact, Kristen once threatened me with bodily harm over a Pandora station centered around that sound) but there’s something to that gritty, half-mastered, dirty sound that Lives and breathes to me so much more than any of these more polished sounds.
Much like 90s grunge was the first sound that really, really made me want to play music – there’s a lot to be said for loud, guitar-thumping, soul-wailing blues – not the pretty shit that pours out of Stevie Ray Vaughan and his myriad imitators, but the impassioned, no-holds-barred growl of Robert Johnson and John Lee Hooker – mud and stink and sweat and guitars that fear for their Lives. For as much as I hate the heat, I think I want swamp music. Maybe that’s too Zydeco. Maybe, for as much as I hate the water, I want RIVER music.
Today was satisfying – but there’s a sound that I’m craving that I don’t know where to find. Maybe because I like Living at the moderate confines of rob-speed? I might need to go on a pilgrimage.
A parrot on Jackson Square – for Sue, of course! Heather takes us to Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, possibly the most famous of these themed shops in New Orleans… you can’t take pictures inside of course – I guess it’s a sign of me losing my sense of wonder, but I remember last time being inside and getting a delicious shiver off the masks and fetishes and mummified remains. This time around just a smile, even when face to face with a poorly made model of a Fiji Maermaid – normally even a thumbnail image of which gives me a little shudder! Heather Loves New Orleans and has a lot of affection for the French Quarter specifically. She gets to spend the majority of the time with the little camera this time around, playing tour guide and leaderbeest. Well. I guess that’s a plus. a particularly inspired version of the ubiquitous New Orleanian “Romeo Catchers” – more some sort of horrific Romeo Disemboweler! across from Greg’s Antiques is this exquisite shop filled with upcycled… everythings… with a particular emphasis on dead instruments. Behold! The trombones bring us LIGHT at “Upcycle by Greg’s Antiques”. Heather surrounded by the contents of Greg’s Antique’s in New Orleans, LA.
