New Orleans Jazz Fest 2009

I think my feet are finally clean. There is a fine line between the dirt and the tan.

It was another year, another experience, this time with my sister and my daughter. No manses accompanied us.

Emma and I arrived early enough in the day to walk the French Quarter, have a bite to eat, see the biggest cockroach alive, get a slushy drink and a shooter at The Big Easy, go to the local LUSH store, and even take a nappy before Rachel arrived.

We decided to go to Jacque Imo's for dinner as we figured the wait would not be long as opposed to the girls we saw on Friday night who had a 2 1/2 hour wait. We were entertained by Reverend Brad aka Grandpa Boogie, who had us hold his stick, walking stick that is, read my aura, which was eerily correct, and told many, many, many stories.It was such difficult work, he had to retreat to his office for a break. Of course we ate too much and it was most delicious.

Thursday, we found out, was a local day for Jazz Fest, adults and schools alike. We started at the Congo Stage with a latin group, Rumba Beuna, where dancing was the norm. We met these girls who could rumba, salsa, and two step with the best.

These two weren't half bad either!

This gentleman was dancing with all the young chicas.

Somebody was passing out stickers that said "Festin' Dawlin'" which we promptly stuck on our bahooties which caused some comotion and some jealousy, for other ladies wanted the same.

We attended a couple improvisational jazz band concerts so Emma could write about them for her jazz class. That was a new one for Rachel and I as we tend to stick to a little groovier, rocking music. Then, of course, my man Anders Osborne, who always rocks my soul. We spent some time at the Gospel Tent, always inspiring,

my turn to dance at the Blues Tent, and ending our Jazz Fest music that day with Ben Harper. As we exited, past the hockers selling water, beer, musicians on the corner, we found the International Special Sacred Shrine for Jon Bon Jovi. There is a facebook page for this also. On Friday, as we left the fest, we tore the photo of JBJ out of our Offbeat magazine, gussied up our lips, and kissed the photo. As we were about two houses away, we started singing at the top of our lungs "Living on a Prayer". Tara, the maker of the shrine, snapped photos, and gushed about our singing and our offering to the shrine.

Pizza and water before going to the new Rock and Bowl for the Zydeco party, where we two stepped and bowled.

Friday was more of the same, with the sun shining brighter, the heat a little hotter, the music a little more rocking. We were at one stage where there was a reunion Rebirth Brass Band and Dirty Dozen Brass Band and we didn't let anyone pass without dancing with us. We even had another couple in on it. We caught the eye of someone from CNN and you can catch us here, just click on the photo of Emma, top center.

We managed to catch some good music, the New Orleans Moonshiners, Esperanza Spaulding, Sugarland, The Iguanas, and my personal favorite for the day - Glenn David Andrews in the Gospel Tent. He was On Fire! We saw him last year at the fest and went to see him again in the evening.

As we left on Friday, after our visit to the ISSS for JBJ, we saw this house, windows wide open to the street, art all over the place, a young man beconing people to come in and see. So we did. We ended up getting a tour of the house, having a beer, and getting a foot massage from a drunk older man (he had to be drunk to touch our filthy feet!). Feeling very wishy washy after our day, we wandered around to the Maple Leaf, but didn't go in, couldn't make a decision about what to do, and all Emma wanted was a burger. McDonalds is not open at Midnight in New Orleans. We went to Arby's in the Quarter, where we saw the second largest cockroach, where Emma ate her burger anyway, and a crowd walked in singing Sublime so of course we chime in, loudly, which surprised and pleased them.

There is nothing like New Orleans. I keep wanting to do another festival but I keep wanting to go back to NOLA, to hear the rocking brass bands, to watch the activities on the streets, to talk to the locals, to smell the flowers, to feel the heat, to view the architecture, to continue to see the progress, to do more, to do different, to do the same. I'll probably go again next year, at the spur of the moment, like I did this year, and again have a good time. Who will be my partner, then?

Oh, and Eric? I missed you.