St. Joseph’s Day: A Fading Tradition

April 5, 2013 by

THE OTHER WHITE (EUROPEAN) MEAT(LESS)

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Joe Talamo Along With Wife & Family Open Their Home To Strangers On St. Joseph’s Day

New Orleans is always celebrating something, whether enlivening national holidays with local color such as the four days of St. Patrick’s Day I’d just enjoyed or the magical Christmas I blogged about in my last post; growing local festivals into epic regional holidays such as Jazzfest, French Quarter Fest, and Voodoo Fest; or taking traditions from around the world, mainly of European and African descent, and celebrating them in ways unique to the United States. Mardi Gras is the most well-know of this latter category, but another Catholic European tradition, this one arising from the large Sicilian population, follows closely on its heels. On March 19th, in honor of St. Joseph, earthly father of Jesus Christ, churches as well as local families around the city build elaborate altars and cook large feasts (meatless, of course, as it fall in Lent season) open to anyone who [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, History & Trivia, Interviews, Travel

A Typical Wednesday In New Orleans (That Unexpected Magic Only The Big Easy Can Conjure)

March 19, 2013 by

FREEBASING JAZZ

A Night of Joy!

A Night of Joy!

The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival encompasses all that is great about this region’s music, food, culture, and hospitality in a confined, accessible area, and thus was my gateway drug to the city as it is for so many. Although it name-checks jazz, Jazzfest consists of 11 stages hosting artists from every imaginable genre and ranging from obscure local climbers to superstars from around the nation and world–every major rock artist that I can think of has played except U2 & McCartney. Yet, although Dave Matthews, Billy Joel, and Fleetwood Mac will be there this year, I always advise people to avoid the ‘superstar’ stage; it’s the unexpected discovery that is the beauty of Jazzfest.

And this is the perfect metaphor for New Orleans. While there are certain famous spots tourists will flock to–rightfully so–there are more wonderful restaurants, clubs, musicians, artists, and personalities clustered here than any one person could fully embrace in a lifetime.  While everyone’s life is a [Read more…]

Filed Under: Food & Cocktails, Greatest Hits, History & Trivia, Restaurant Reviews, Travel, Venue & Band Reviews

A Typical Tuesday Night in New Orleans

March 17, 2013 by

WV GUMBO FROM DA BLOCK

I Finally Had Neighboors, This One Apparently Living Mardi Gras Year Round Too!

I Finally Had Neighbors,
This One Apparently Living Mardi Gras Year Round Too!

It was satisfying to unpack and settle into a space of my own. Although temporary, I finally had a room and a neighborhood. When I stepped onto the front porch to greet a beautiful spring day, I felt like a local at long last.

Part of me wanted to rush out and explore my new part of town–excited to actually have a part of town–but I decided to relax and soak it in instead. I’m not a smoker but enjoy a pipe or cigar on special occasions, so pulled out my guitar, lit a pipe, and sat on the front porch waving as locals wandered by like I’d been raised on the block.

FORGET ETERNAL DAMNATION, WE’RE TALKING GOOD ROUX HERE, PEOPLE

I was tired and still unsettled so considered staying in, but I’d moved here to write about the city and felt compelled to get going.  I hadn’t located an Offbeat or Gambit Weekly yet (free local publications that include music listings) but knew New Orleans well enough to know where to head on a typical Tuesday night: Oak Street.  Hiding all the way Uptown, as far from the French Quarter as you can get without swimming, this street houses one of New Orlean’s most popular and controversial [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Food & Cocktails, History & Trivia, Travel

My Day of Mardi Gras, Part 4: Finale on Frenchman (Luck of the Indians)

February 28, 2013 by

WHAT IS AND WHAT NEVER SHOULD BE (BOURBON V. FRENCHMAN)

Me? A Music Nerd?!

Me? A Music Nerd?!

I have always loved music, with my passion blooming into obsession in adolescence as my shyness and insecurity discovered a constant, non-judgmental companion.  In my early twenties I discovered jazz, and I was just beginning to explore New Orleans brass rhythms when I first visited the city in 1998.  Being the music nerd that I am, I rushed to Bourbon Street ready to embrace jazz history and modern innovation.  Instead I found seedy strip clubs, cheesy daiquiri bars, corny t-shirt shops, and sleazy dive bars full of bands playing the same stringy-haired southern rock you could find in any bar south of Philly.  (I swear these same damn bands were playing Duval Street on my first trip to Key West where I expected to find steel drums and the next young Buffett!  Doh!)

One of my reasons for writing this blog is that, while I’ve come to love New Orleans, it’s not an easy city to get to know.  Jazzfest was the perfect gateway because it encapsulates all that is great about the food, music, and culture in a confined, accessible area, but beyond this fleeting utopia it took effort, research, and years of visiting to begin to crack the code of a city that can be as intimidating as it is welcoming.  Thus, I aspire to provide a point of entry for uninitiated but curious readers who would otherwise step onto Bourbon, say “This is it?” and head home wondering what all the fuss is about.  So, if you are such a reader, take note: Frenchman Street is [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Food & Cocktails, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

My Day of Mardi Gras, Part 3: Drawn & French Quartered

February 27, 2013 by

RAIN, RUN-OFF, & OTHER SUBSTANCES YOU’D RATHER NOT IDENTIFY (WHAT ARE PIRATE HOBOS MADE OF?)

Crossing Canal

Crossing Canal

As I reached Canal Street, newly baptized in hot chocolate and ready to cross into the Quarter, I found myself trapped.  The truck parade was still limping along (it had started around noon and it was now past 4pm!) down roads lined with metal barricades.  Emerging from St. Charles, the parade turned up Canal, rolling out of sight and creating a blockade that could take miles to circumnavigate. My feet were already throbbing and my cold certainly wasn’t improving. I’d spent over two hours and countless miles to get this far, so law and order would have to accommodate me at this point rather than vice versa.

Police presence, however, was strong this close to parade ground zero, for there is always a crush of tourists and over-enthusiastic locals on Canal Street radiating up and down the blocks adjacent to Bourbon.  I headed north until I saw that people were beginning to leap barriers and rush up to floats with outstretched arms.  Reaching a point where the breach was large enough to provide cover, I leaned over the iron railing and sat my hobo pack on a discarded, crushed box.  Rain was still misting down and the streets–notorious for potholes in this town–were covered with puddles of rain, run-off, and other substances you’d rather not identify, [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Food & Cocktails, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

My Day of Mardi Gras, Part 2: From Families to Freaks on St. Charles

February 24, 2013 by

AS SERIOUS AS A MAN DRESSED LIKE A PIRATE HOBO CAN BE

The Pirate Hobo Sets Off On His Mardi Gras Mission

The Pirate Hobo Sets Off On His Mardi Gras Mission

It had rained during our lunch respite, but the crowds remained strong and steady if not overwhelming as I left Superior Seafood and began to wander down St. Charles Avenue.  The truck parade was chugging along–a good two hours strong–and would still be in its final stages a couple of hours later as I reached Canal Street, blocking my entrance into the French Quarter.  It was a little melancholy leaving my friends again and setting off alone into one of the greatest communal celebrations in our nation.  I’d always attended Mardi Gras with friends, the last time with some of my dearest on this planet, but this time I was on a mission as opposed to just hanging out.  Despite slinging a hobo pack over my pirate-clad shoulder, I was serious about documenting as much as I could before midnight struck. [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

My Day of Mardi Gras, Part 1: From Missing Zulu To Bead Dogs & Bead Babies on St. Charles

February 21, 2013 by

THE TREME BONE’S CONNECTED TO THE — RIO BONE….

The Mardi Gras Pirate Hobo Strikes Again

The Mardi Gras Pirate Hobo Strikes Again

Although Mardi Gras season tends to run late into the night, Mardi Gras day itself is much like Christmas–the excitement begins at the crack of dawn (or earlier), with the festivities already ebbing by late afternoon.  Yes, some people rage on until midnight, just as some cling to Christmas till the waning hours, but the last parade wraps up in the early afternoon, prompting the feasts and reunions in the neutral ground to gradually clear.  Soon the roads are largely deserted except for Bourbon, Frenchman, and (allegedly) those surrounding the Backstreet Cultural Museum in Treme.  I’m sure a few other spots continue to thrive, but generally celebration tends to move to house parties and bars. [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Greatest Hits, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Lundi Gras is the Day, but Danny Cattan is THE Man!

February 19, 2013 by

WHEN THE WORLD IS RAINING DOWN ON ME…

Let it go! Let it Go! Let it Go!

Let it go! Let it Go! Let it Go!

When the world is coming down on me, I let it go!   –Cowboy Mouth, “Jenny Says”

As Cowboy Mouth rocked my Lundi Gras troubles away, two friends from Rocckus, Megan and Amanda from New York (where their brother Chris had already  returned), appeared out of nowhere dressed in gowns for that night’s Orpheus ball.  When it began to drizzle Amanda pulled out a poncho but Megan had forgotten hers, so I offered my jacket as I opened an umbrella in quiet admiration:  It takes dedication to rock out in the rain in evening-wear.   In return, the sisters offered a red spoon to throw during “Everybody Loves Jill” but I proudly/embarrassedly pulled out one of my own, carried from Jacksonville in hopes that Cowboy Mouth would be playing somewhere.  How about right outside my hotel?!  Thank you guardian Mardi Gras angel!

Rocckus Reunites in the Rain with Red Spoons Ready

Rocckus Reunites in the Rain with Red Spoons Ready

Soon the show came to its typical explosive conclusion with “Jenny Says,” Cowboy Mouth’s one radio hit from the mid-nineties and my introduction to the band several years before I otherwise discovered New Orleans music.  It remains their signature song, played penultimately in concert (pre-Katrina it was the final song, but the storm changed everything) by a band that understands why people continue to attend live shows in the digital age.  During this cleverly crafted bit of pop-catharsis Fred LeBlanc has fans [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Greatest Hits, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

Up-Lifted At Lundi Gras (Are You WITH ME?!?!)

February 17, 2013 by

Monday morning I awoke for the last time in my big, comfy bed in the Hilton with a cold still clawing at my throat thanks to Saturday night’s debauchery; but I at last felt rested and filled with possibility.  Today, after all, was Lundi Gras.

YES MA’AM, THOSE ARE IN FACT BLACK MEN IN BLACK FACE

Kings of Rex & Zulu Meet On a Drizzly Mardi Gras (Thus apologies for fuzzy photography!)

Kings of Rex & Zulu Meet On a Drizzly Lundi Gras

For most of its history, the day before Mardi Gras was an off-day filled with scarce activity.  In 1987, however, the King of Rex, Mardi Gras’ oldest Krewe that parades Mardi Gras morning, resumed an old tradition of arriving via boat the day before Mardi Gras.  At the same time, a journalist had stumbled on an obscure term used in a remote neighborhoods and attached it to the festivities.  Thus Lundi Gras (Fat Monday) was born and carnival season took its next quantum leap forward.  The revived arrival now took place at the gigantic Riverwalk Marketplace (what would have seemed science fiction absurdity in the early twentieth century when Rex last arrived via water) and grew into a day of concerts and festivities.  Soon King of Zulu began to meet with the King of Rex upon his arrival, though I’ve yet to stumble upon just how far back this tradition dates.  Zulu, an African-American organization born out of defiance much like the Indians, is the second-oldest marching Krewe, thus making this meeting a mildly reassuring gesture (though only mildly ’cause it feels like just that–a gesture) of racial unity during an event largely dominated by white riders wearing hoods and robed costumes (no one said Mardi Gras can’t be oddly creepy too.)  Of all these robed and hooded parade costumes, Rex’s are the most regal, but their lack of clownishness actually gives them more implied menace, and it doesn’t help that Rex’s lieutenants ride on horseback. [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Food & Cocktails, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

Down & Out On Bourbon Street….

February 16, 2013 by

BIRTHING ART & PETRI-FODDER

Pam Tusa w/her husband--A direct descendant of Serpico & Jesus Christ!

Pam Tusa w/her husband–A direct descendant of Serpico & Jesus Christ!

At the end of our last exciting episode it was early Sunday evening and I was wandering down Poydras in solitude on my way to meet up with Chris and Pam Tusa,  friends from Baton Rouge.  Chris, a writer with an actual published book, Dirty Little Angels (like that means anything!), grew up in New Orleans.  Although locals generally avoid Bourbon Street like day-old crawfish (especially during Mardi Gras) Chris was drawing us into the fray with good reason.

I keep preaching like a vexed televangelist that Bourbon Street, while worth a glimpse into the total breakdown of social decorum and personal restraint, is not New Orleans or Mardi Gras.  A carnival of the bizarre and unrestrained, it’s definitely entertaining for a short while, but unless you’re the type who feels empowered by yelling at strange women to show their boobs for cheap plastic trinkets, you just don’t want to stay there.  Remnants still stand of what Bourbon once was–stoically defying modern comercial opportunism–such as the elegant and locally revered Creole institution Galatoire’s (GAL-a-twah-z) or Preservation Hall, the sparse yet historic jazz club just a few steps off Bourbon; but, for the most part, t-shirt and daiquiri shops and seedy strip clubs long-ago claimed Bourbon for tourists looking for an excuse.  Not to say New Orleans was ever angelic.  The famous Storyville district where jazz was born was known for red light establishments and rough-housing patrons; but it also gave birth to Jazz!, [Read more…]

Filed Under: Autobiography, Food & Cocktails, History & Trivia, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
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