no matter how far you go...

As the old saying goes, “do you know what it means to miss new Orleans” [a plaque with those words hangs in my house, maybe yours too]. Here’s another one – no matter how far you go, you’re never far from new Orleans.

My much more than better half and I were on the fly in Europe this summer and experienced a couple of run ins with NOLA. First in the south of France, while just minding our own business walking near the shores of the Cote D’azur, what do we happen upon? No, not Bridgit Bardot (I’m pretty sure she couldn’t even fit on the beach much less lay on the beach) but a straight from New Orleans Second Line (the heavy dose of salt air prevents me from recalling who it was but you’d know them). On a later leg we concluded that Venice is the Italian New Orleans. All water jokes aside, it had the same soulful feel, look and array of artisans and food and characters and whatnot.

Just a few days after our trip we took in Joan Osborne at a DC club (if you put aside that one commercial song she is really quite a good white soul songstress). It’s a club with tables and having gotten there on the late side we took our seats at just about the last available spot with a table already occupied by three other couples. Just as I looked up after sitting down with our tablemates I find two of the couples wearing JazzFest attire and the third couple also turned out to be regulars. Thus ensued an evening-long conversation at the breaks comparing past Fests and other NOLA moments that had been experienced independently but now shared as if it had been experienced together in the moment.

It was just another reminder that no matter where you go you are never far from New Orleans.

Having said all that, for all my love for NOLA, you will never - and let me emphasize NEVER - find me there in a pink hat.