Continuing the journey: Saturday at FQF

Actually, we missed most of it as we spent about 6 hours in 13. It has become tradition to spend at least one day during a festival in 13 and we certainly didn't break tradition this time. Thanks to newcomer, Mindi (if I spelled her name wrong, tell her so that she'll visit the blog and correct me), who forced Peter and I to shoot the photo -- by shooting it herself -- that will eventually become the label for bin 504 (anyone who doesn't yet know what bin 504 is, please read prior blog entries, but shame on you as you've been out of touch too long). After much merriment at 13, we headed to the main riverfront stage to listen, dance, and scream to the Soul Rebels. Just another one of those amazing moments that you never want to end. It was so good that I felt like I was about the explode. Then I realized that although the Rebels were that good, my close to combustive state had more to do with my needing to go to the bathroom. Turns out Maria was in the same state so we headed to the long porta-potty lines to relieve ourselves before heading the DBA to catch John Boutte with Leroy Jones and Todd Duke. While in my stall doing my thing, I hear from the next stall over, "Kevin, can you hear me?" Yes, I thought, and so can everybody else.
"Yes, I can hear you"
"Oh my God, this is disgusting! The bowl is completely full, I can't sit down"

At this point, I probably should have offered to switch porta-potties with her, but since I was now laughing so hard that was becoming difficult to finish my own business, I think I said something like, "That sucks!"

She then gave me, and anyone else nearby, play-by-play, of what she was doing to successfully complete her mission. I will spare everyone the details, but suffice it to say that it involved some interesting, and creative, maneuvers and definitely some good aim. I am sure it looked a bit odd when I exited my stall laughing hysterically, but anyone who may have heard our exchange probably understood. Those who did not hear our exchange probably understood a little better when Maria exited her stall laughing just as heartedly. That weirdness behind us, it was off to DBA.

Because of the long bathroom lines, Maria and I figured we would be last to get to DBA. Turns out, we almost beat everyone there. Ed and Debbie were there at the same time because we later compared songs, but we did not see them and they ended up heading out to dinner. Maria and I got there and hooked up with Bill, Pat, and eventually Carol. Peter and the rest of the gang went back to 822 to help Boz unload equipment for Sunday's crawfish boil. John, Lee, and Todd put on a great show and we hung out with them for a little while after the show before regrouping at 822 to share stories and drink some wine before making our way to 13 for dinner. For those of you counting at home, that's 8 to 9 hours at 13 on that Saturday. See, it's not all fun and games down in NOLA, sometimes we have to put in our regular work shifts.

Missing Shoes!...

I thought I left my shoes in Peter's place last weekend and when I asked him to send me any pair he found laying around, this is what I received...

Damn my feet hurt today.

Can it really get any better? -- Addendum!!!

FORGIVE ME!!! How the hell could I forget to mention Bill and Pat in my last post? I'm blaming it on Boz and too much moonshine last Monday morning! My apologies!

Can it really get any better?

French Quarter Fest was my second tour of duty in NOLA with the Frenchmen Krewe (despite feeling like it was my twentieth...love you guys) and I find myself asking, "can it really get any better than it was last weekend?" Funny, but I asked myself that same exact question after Satchmo Fest last August. And the answer I'm most comfortable with is YES...and NO.

Every weekend was or will be unique even though the names are familiar. From friends -- Peter, Kevin, Kim, Maria, Barri, Leroy, Katja, Carol and Boz -- to performers -- Trombone Shorty, Bonerama, Treme w/ Uncle Lionel, Hurricane Brass Band w/ Leroy and Katja -- to places -- 13, dba, Blue Nile, Electric Ladyland, Rays, Vaughn's, Donna's -- to...well, you get the point. NOLA is both incredibly familiar and unbelievely new and fresh every time I now visit. Traditions are taking shape (Crawfish Boils MUST be one of them!!!) yet spontaneity rules. Friendships are intimate without effort or expectations. The one word that most closely describes our time together?...MAGICAL.

I'll be blogging more thoughts (with my shirt ON...thanks, Kev!) and will post a few pics shortly. Miss you all already and can't wait for Satchmo Fest 2008 to arrive.

Happy FQF Fest 2008

Things didn't look so good when I was stuck in Dallas on Thursday. Two flights to NOLA had already been canceled, I was booked on an evening flight and on the standby list for the late afternoon flight. 9,000,000 others were on the standby list, too. Soon, the rest of the evening flights as well as the 10 am Friday flight would be canceled. The bar was packed with folks rooting for others to make the flight, but secretly hoping that they wouldn't...or was that just me? I was prepared to rent a car and drive to dallas and would have probably still made it to Vaughn's in time for the last set. The other option was to fly back to the OC...Ok, that wasn't really an option.

I made the flight. It was a party. Everyone was ordering alcoholic beverages (which AA would not comp...bastahds!) and talking about the music they would see at the festival. By the way, the airlines should add more flights to NOLA if for no other reason than to increase alcohol sales. Maybe that will turn things around for them.

Made it to 822 to find Ed with his shirt off -- weekend theme for him ;-D. But it was ok as the air conditioning was out at 822 and it was August-like hot that day so I understood. I considered joining Ed in shirtless living, but I thought that might be a bit weird. By Sunday night, that would have registered so low on the weirdness scale that I would regret not doing it.

Ed put his shirt on and we went to Maximos for dinner. We were headed for Coops, but saw that Maximos had reopened so we gave it a shot. After that, it was off to frenchmen for John Boutte and Paul Sanchez, to 13 for a beer and then off to Vaughn's with Bill and Pat. At Vaughn's we hooked up with Carol and later with Peter and Kimberle. I think we did something after Vaughn's and I am sure it had something to do with Frenchmen street and 13, but I don't remember

Friday was one of those days that I didn't want to end. The music, the company, the weather, the bloody mary followed by a "few" cold Abitas all made for a nearly perfect afternoon. If not for my face peeling off due to the sunburn I obtained, I would have deemed it the perfect day, but my flaking face is a small price to pay. I love the first day of events like Jazz Fest and FQF. So much promise and anticipation. Everything just seems to look, sound, and taste better. Not even Gabby could have ruined the first Friday of FQF, but that would have been a much larger price to pay than my burnt face.

Not bad for the first day...and there is plenty more to publish...stay tuned.