Morning Open Thread is a daily, copyrighted post from a host of editors and guest writers. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.
I’ve come to think of this post as one where you come for the music and stay for the conversation—so feel free to drop a note. The diarist gets to sleep in if she so desires and can show up long after the post is published. So you know, it's a feature, not a bug.
Join us, please.
Saturday morning in NOLA… with a clear head. Gotta change that. I left the Marquette House in the Garden District early, by local standards it seems. There wasn’t anyone on the sidewalks as I made my way over to St. Charles Ave and learned a new word, Igor’s. A bar/Laundromat/Video Arcade? Where have you been my whole life? On sheer principle I went in and had a beer and looked around. My god, they were so far ahead of their time! Every college town in the western hemisphere needs a place like this. One day I will own a chain of these things, I thought to myself at the time. Next stop, breakfast.
I don’t know what kind of reputation The Trolley Stop Cafe has among the natives down there, but let me say this. Employing New Orleans Saints cheerleaders who are friendly, kind and talkative is one hell of a business model. Biscuits and Gravy with Red Devil never tasted so damned good in all my life.
OK, needs accomplished. Now what? And here’s my secret. When on an adventure, try to have as little of an agenda as possible. If one is so busy getting to the next place they think they want to go, there’s no way to let the Tao lead you to where they should be going. Then the Tao has to step in and force it. Humans don’t always react well when the universe does that.
I had no idea what I was going to do, where I would go or what I wanted to see. All I really knew is that lots of live music was the goal. But so early in the day, I had some time to kill. Getting a look at the levee’s along the French Quarter sounded like a good idea. I knew that it was located on the highest part of the city, that’s why it has survived so long. But I had to get a handle on the situation for myself. See, for an Arizonan, I’ve spent a good deal of time getting to know the muddy mississip. I came this close to going to Dubuque University for environmental sciences after high school. After touring the campus, I decided I was not going to spend my college years in eastern Iowa. Sorry, a mountain man has standards. I’ve traveled up and down the upper Mississippi rather extensively over the years. I spent four years living in the twin cities where my connection with the river developed more than any westerner would have imagined.
Off again on the streetcar to Canal Street and down to the river. To my surprise, there’s an Aquarium waiting for me! More on that in a minute. First I had to soak up what is the defining physical feature of New Orleans.
I stood there leaning on the railing looking out at the river, and like a flood, the images and history slowly marched by.That river is the DNA strand of 2/3’s of the country. It has defined life, laws, wars and ways of life since my ancestors moved over the ridges from Virginia to hack out life along the Ohio river in Kentucky.
Just think, if it weren’t for a ex-slave in Haiti and a successful rebellion, Napoleon would have hung on to this colony in the new world. And New Orleans was and is the right atrium of the land, so vital yet these days, so under appreciated.
Well, instead of going scuba diving into that black muck, I just turned around and went into the Aquarium to get a close look at the life that calls the Mississippi home. I am a sucker for aquariums. Unlike a zoo, there’s stuff that almost no one would ever see without them. Who’s going to go out to the depths to catch a glimpse of this dude?
All in all, it was an average Aquarium with one exception. I spent most of my time at the sea otter tank. They had the biggest male otter I’ve ever seen and he was putting on a show. Like the girl in the picture below, I spent hours with my nose pressed up against the glass lost in Otter World.
Eventually the desire to see more than a tub of sea water took over and I made my way up Decatur Street. Those who knew the city and me said the only place I wanted to be was on Frenchmen Street. They were right.
But first more food. My impressions of race issues in NOLA can be summed up with my experiences with the restaurants. I realize what I saw was not the reality on a day to day basis for the majority of the populace. But it was certainly different than my exposure to other American cities. I got a kick out of going into one restaurant to find a black owner, a white bartender and a creole busboy. The next place would have a Creole owner, a black bartender and a white busboy. So, locals can chime in and tell me the truth. Does NOLA have a larger percent of minority owned business’? I sure hope so.
I lost track of the places I stopped in to nibble on something that day. It had nothing to do with alcohol, I’m sure of that. But a plate of Etouffee at Cafe Maspero, a cup of gumbo at Tulague’s and walk around Jackson Square later, I found myself at DBA’s. With music coming out of the open doors. Well alright, that’s what I’m talkin bout.
Let me just say that requesting the song Take Five to group of young white jazz players who don’t know who Dave Brubeck is can lead to a terribly uncomfortable misunderstanding.
It was 3 p.m. and that’s how I started my 13 hour odyssey into the live music scene on a Saturday night. It looks like a lot of the names have changed since I was there and at the time I didn’t care where I was. When one band stopped, I just walked next door. Reggae, swamp rock, jazz, acoustic singer/songwriters… it was all there in walking distance. I was a sponge. When the joints were finally rolled up, I walked back to Canal Street and waited for way longer than I cared to for the next streetcar to take me back home. When I finally rolled into bed that night, I felt like I finally made it to the promised land. I came, I ate, I drank, I danced, I conquered.
There was only one thing I missed that night. Some good foot stomping Zydeco or Cajun music. That’s what I really wanted. I was going to have to wait for Sunday afternoon for that. I had no idea what I was in store for.
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Grab your coffee or tea and join us, please.
What's on your mind this morning?