After the show it was a madhouse to get out. I said goodbye to Katie and her friends before forging my own path home. As I wandered around trying to find an Uber I stumbled onto the most kick-ass crawfish boil I have ever seen! The Uber would have to wait. After my miserable dinner experience Friday night, I was ready to EAT! Besides the unlimited mud-bugs, they also had a whole roasted pig and beer on tap. Just make a donation and help yourself. I kicked in $40 and did just that. Hell, I stayed for three hours before finally calling a ride to the Quarter.
As I said, my AMEX was last seen at the Funky Pirate on Bourbon Street, so that was my destination. My Uber dropped me off at Jean Lafitte’s which is at the end of Bourbon towards Esplanade. I had to head the other direction towards Canal St. so I might as well get a drink! Jean Lafitte’s is one of the oldest bars in New Orleans and they are known for these purple slushies that pack a punch. Needed it! I wandered up Bourbon and enjoyed some people watching until I reached the Pirate. Sadly, they did not have the card. Shit. Then, I looked in my wallet again and there it was! I had put it on the other side in my drunken state didn’t notice! Problem solved.
Once I reached Canal Street I ran into a guy with an Aerosmith shirt and we started talking about the show. He must have had REALLY good seats because he pulled out a handful of pics and gave me one of Joe Perry, Brad Whitford and Tom Hamilton. Thank you, kind sir! I caught the streetcar at Canal and rode it back to the Garden District. God, I love the streetcar. For $1.25 you can get nearly anywhere in the city. It’s beautiful! Since I still had a little energy left I stopped off at the Avenue Pub for a couple of night caps and then called it a day. Whew! I was tired and needed some rest. Yet, I still had one more day of Festing to do and there was plenty left on the agenda: Steve Miller, Buddy Guy, Smokey Robinson, Rebirth Brass Band, and much more!
When I woke up Sunday I could hear the church bells ring next door. But it only rang once. Shit, I overslept! By the time I got to the fairgrounds it was already 2pm. Only five hours of fun left. Must see music! Eat later. There was a LOT on the schedule for the day and my choices were nearly limitless. On top of that, my sister texted me on Saturday and ask me to find some “glass monkeys.” All I had to go by was the picture she sent me. They look like the old kid’s game but bigger and made of glass. You hang them outside and they look pretty. Yeah sure, I’ll get right on that, sis. Not my top priority. I entered at the back of the Acura stage where Galactic was playing, not that I would have known it. I was focused on getting my bearings, finding a schedule and getting to the best stage at that very moment. I like Galactic. Normally I would have found some cool people, smoked a joint and waited for Trombone Shorty. Not today.
Rebirth was at Congo Square! The best part about traveling by yourself is not having to worry about walking too fast or waiting for someone else. Just hit the gas and GO! I like to bob & weave when walking through crowds. Focus about ten feet ahead of you and anticipate the next move. You can’t do that with a group of people. It just doesn’t work. Which is why you have those big sticks! So, you can meet your friends at a certain place at a certain time. If you get split up, look for the stick. It’s worked for 50 years. I made it to Congo Square, but unfortunately Rebirth were already half way through their set. That’s ok, half of Rebirth is better than nothing!
Smokey Robinson was up next but I had some time to sneak over to the Lagniappe stage and catch the end of George Porter & His Running Pardners. George Porter is a bad-ass on the bass! Seeing the end of his set nearly made up for missing the Meters on Friday, but not quite. The Radiators were up after George, so I stuck around for a few tunes. Then, I had to get back to Smokey. Unfortunately, by the time I got back the crowd had swelled and I could barely see the big screen, let alone the stage. Plus, the sound was very low! You could hardly hear him from my vantage point. So I saw “I Second That Emotion” and a couple more before heading back to the Gospel tent. It was Sunday, after all. Gotsta get my churchin’ on! Rev. Todd is testifying!
The Zion Harmonizers brought tears of joy to my eyes. Their music inspired me to hug fellow humans with no shame. I raised my hands to the sky and declared for all to hear, “I BELIEVE!” No matter what you believe, if anything at all, the Gospel tent is a beautiful thing to behold and it welcomes all. Unlike our Republican-run Congress and the entire Trump administration. (Hey, it’s my story. If I can talk religion, I can talk politics too. Lighten up, Francis!) After I filled my heart to capacity with pure bliss I continued on to some ROCK. Now, I knew Jack White existed. I knew a few White Stripes songs. I was not prepared for what I saw that day! Mind blown.
The crowd was huge. Bigger than Aerosmith? I don’t know. I didn’t see Aerosmith from the back. However, it took me a LONG while to get through the small barrier to the main field. As soon as I crossed over, I got a beer and planted myself. That’s when I made a few more friends, one from NOLA the other from FLA. We were ALL feeling it! It was an organic orgasm between one hundred thousand people happening simultaneously! Who knew Jack White was that good? I didn’t! When the show was over I planned on hitting Steve Miller with my new friends. Karma had other plans. The Elvis Stick was calling and I had to answer it. Where is Rob Kerner???
I lost the ladies but made it to Steve Miller. Once I got there I immediately made some new friends. As I stated earlier, joints do that. Then, a guy with a backpack strolled up next to me. He took a hit and I asked where he was going. To which he pointed at the Elvis Stick and said, “there”! Hey, I know that stick! Maybe my friend was there. So I followed him through the immense crowd and we somehow made it through. Unfortunately, BK had already left for the day, dammit! I gave the guy my business card and said, “Tell him Rev. Todd was here.” The message was received.
With less than two hours of Jazz Fest to go I walked rapidly to the Blues Tent for a bit of Buddy Guy. Having never seen him before, it was a must and he tore it up! He took his guitar from the stage to the back of the house and back! I tried to get some video of it, but to no avail. Too late. Once again, you can’t see it all. Just try to see a bit of each when you can! It’s ALL good! Back to the Acura stage for Trombone Shorty, the end of my Sunday night. The last night of Jazz Fest is always bittersweet. You don’t want the fun to end but you know it must. When Quint Davis took the stage after Shorty’s set to say thank you I knew it was over, but it was wonderful.
As I was leaving, I made a frantic effort to find my sister’s precious request. Lo & behold, at the very end of the arts tents, I FOUND THE MONKEYS! Having not properly read her text, I did not realize she only wanted ONE monkey…in orange. She said it would cost about $100 with shipping. I ended up buying three for $200 and lugging them all back with me through Mid-City. Plus, I also got a Fleur-De-Lis for an early Mother’s Day present. With my time in NOLA waning, I enjoyed wandering the streets, listening to the music and taking in all the beauty of the city. Including nitrous! Hey, somebody had a tank. I had $20. What the hell? We only live once.
Once the “wah-wah’s” wore off I continued down the street until I found a cab. Forget Uber at this point. Go with convenience. Three others hopped in and the driver said it would be $8 apiece to The Quarter. Fine. We started driving and stopped at a red light. As I looked to my right I saw a sign that said Dookie Chase. Holy Shit! This is one of the places I REALLY wanted to eat! I told the driver, “Let me out here!” and I got out of the car without paying. It wasn’t until after he drove off I realized they were closed on Sundays. Now, I HAD to call an Uber ($15 AMEX), as this was not a place for a white boy with glass monkeys to be hanging out. Plus, I had to piss. Peeing outdoors in NOLA will get you arrested fo’ shiggity! I took the risk. Had to.
Uber picked me up and took me to The Quarter where I proceeded to crawl from one end to the other. Needing food, I opted for an old stand-by, The Clover Grill. The atmosphere is more restrained than it used to be and for that it loses points. Where are the tranny servers? Where are the gay-positive menus? This was just a diner now. No matter. I had the chicken-fried steak and it was good. I made one last stroll up Bourbon. Who cares if it’s a tourist trap or the best place to get shot by a gang-banger? It’s still fun. By the time I got to Canal Street I was ready for bed.
Once again, I took the streetcar home. I had to break into my Emergency $20 to make change. My $650 was gone. God knows how much I put on AMEX. Fuck it. Check the totals when you get home, Baker. As I rode the rails on that beautiful beast, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on conversations while watching the downtown streets blow by. It was a beautiful evening and another extraordinary New Orleans experience. As we passed Lee Circle it was hard not to notice the lack of a statue on top of that huge column. I consider that progress. More is needed.
Monday afternoon I awoke groggy yet determined to squeeze every glorious moment out of my last day in New Orleans. As I came out of my room, there was Allen! I hadn’t seen him since I got to town. He thought I already left. We got to hang out for a little bit before I had to take off, which was nice. I mean, the guy put me up for a weekend and I barely see him? Some friend I am. Yet, as I said, Jazz Fest isn’t his thing and he has own schedule to keep. Spending some time together is better than nothing at all, right? Shit, I’ve known this guy for over twenty years and we really don’t talk much. A coupla times a year tops, usually around Christmas and if I’m coming to town. That’s about it. But, it’s better than nothing, folks. CALL YOUR FRIENDS NOW!
Taking my own advice, I finally got around to calling Rob Kerner and he agreed to pick me up at Allen’s. Saying goodbye to one amigo and hello to another, I got in B.K’s truck and off we went. To where I was not sure, but I knew it would be fun! My sister was his friend first, but when she introduced us in 1995 I knew has my friend, too. Rob was meeting people at their hotel in the Quarter but he couldn’t reach them via text. So, we took a stroll through the French Market and smoked a few cigarettes while waiting for a response. We should have gotten a beignet at the Café Du’ Monde and taken a stroll through Jackson Square. Missed opportunities.
Sadly, there is TOO MUCH to do in New Orleans. Whether you are at a Jazz Fest, Mardi Gras or just the average Thursday, you can’t do it all in a weekend. Sorry. It’s impossible no matter how much money you have. You can’t buy TIME! I spent the rest of my Sunday by the pool with B.K and his friends at Hotel Le Richelieu. It was wonderful. Laughing, lounging, drinking. Just what the witch doctor ordered for my last day in NOLA. Yet, the time in my happy place was closing.
Rob and his friends had dinner reservations at Briquette and I had to catch a plane back to Florida. He gave me a ride to the restaurant in the back of his truck and I took the opportunity to take a few parting pictures of my favorite city in America. I wish I could afford to live there again, but alas it is out of my means these days. So, I will suffice with visiting as often as I can. Or, as long as Allen lets me stay. Did I mention hotels were expensive? Well, they are!
Sigh…back to reality, and my AMEX bill, which was about $700 by the time I got home. Whoops, I guess I went a little over budget. It happens. Who gives a shit? I had a blast and THAT is what life is all about, folks. You can’t take it with you and I have no one to pass it on to anyway. So, I plan on dying broke! Besides, I had my glass monkeys and Katie’s number in my cell phone. Life was indeed good. I made it to the airport on time with a lifetime of memories jammed into half a week. I hope to come back to New Orleans and my friends soon, but I had a wedding in Columbus to attend in two weeks. No rest for the wicked. Looks like somebody is getting a glass monkey for a wedding present. Congrats to Andy and Alicia Hindman!
