“Pre-Birthday Week”
Diana continued my “Birthday Month” celebration with the amazing Stanton Moore trio at the Columns on Monday night. Three musicians that are at the absolute top of their game, just world class. Here are a couple of samples:
All of this in a small room of a boutique hotel with great snacks and drinks. Another Monday in New Orleans. Thanks Diana!
Torkanowsky announced that there was a legend in the house. Sitting just behind us was Maria Muldaur, “Midnight at the Oasis” singer. Here’s some online info on her:
Her first solo album, Maria Muldaur, released in 1973, contained her hit single “Midnight at the Oasis“,[5] which reached number 6 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1974. It peaked at number 21 on the UK Singles Chart.[6] Later that year, she released her second album, Waitress in a Donut Shop.[5] This included a re-recording of “I’m a Woman“, the Leiber and Stoller number first associated with Peggy Lee and a standout feature from her Jug Band days. Her version of the song peaked at #12 on the Billboard Hot 100, and was her last Hot 100 hit in the U.S. to date. The title of this album is taken from a line in another song on the album, “Sweetheart”, by Ken Burgan.
Around this time, Muldaur established a relationship with the Grateful Dead. Opening for some Grateful Dead shows in the summer of 1974, with John Kahn, bassist of the Jerry Garcia Band, eventually earned her a seat in that group as a backing vocalist in the late 1970s. Around the same time Muldaur met and eventually collaborated with bluegrass icon Peter Rowan. The two became close, and she was chosen to be the godmother of his daughter Amanda Rowan. She appeared on Super Jam (1989).
McD had a good day on Wednesday. Started with yoga and then pool time with Kara. Does her face say she’s having a good time?
They took advantage of Merry Lee’s pool for the day. Looks really busy.
Denny had invited me to a birthday dinner with his family before they left town. Charlie’s steakhouse was the venue. I had a great time there on guys night out a year or so ago, and so was really looking forward to it. I had a haircut at Aidan Gill’s on Friday afternoon, and then put on a suit to dress up for my birthday dinner.
Charlie’s is a classic neighbourhood dive kind of place. People have been eating here on a regular basis for 30 years. I had warned Diana that they don’t have menus, they just tell you what they have to offer. I also coached her that they likely didn’t have a dry, crisp French white wine. Little did I know that all of that input was unnecessary. The hostess led us upstairs and I entered a room with all of my best friends. It was a bit of a shock and also a bit emotional.
The whole krewe (minus Fred and Kelly who were at a daughter’s graduation) were assembled.
I had a lovely time visiting with everyone and received some really thoughtful gifts. The wait staff was exceptional – following me around with drink and food orders as I moved seats to visit with everyone. This amazing Dauberge cake made it also:
What an amazing night with such kind and generous friends. Nicely pulled off Diana!
If that wasn’t enough, Diana took me for a much smaller birthday dinner on Saturday night at Wild South. The tasting menu at this place is very creative and always different. It’s nice to have such wonderful food and service in a very casual atmosphere.
The first dish was a king trumpet mushroom with a light tempura style batter. It was so fresh and flavourful.
That was followed by crab stuffed squash blossom – so creative.
Then a nice twist on shrimp and grits- with yummy heirloom grits.
Then a beautifully cooked trout.
And finally a poached peach dessert.
Thanks to Diana for another excellent meal.
My book this week was “Why New Orleans Matters” by Tom Piazza.
This is the best book about New Orleans that I’ve read. It explains everthing that I love about the city. It was written shortly after Hurricane Katrina and the loss is evident throughout the book. Piazza moved here and loves the city deeply, for all the same reasons as I do. Here he describes the power of Jazz Fest very well:
“Before I lived in New Orleans, Jazz Fest was the gravitational center of my year. I lived through the long, gray New York winter, or the howling, wild Iowa winter, which lasted until the middle of April, and Jazz Fest would loom like a rescue ship on the horizon. If it was a year when I would be lucky enough to attend both weekends and stay the week in between, my only thought was Please don’t let a car hit me between now and the end of April. New Orleans, in fact, is filled with people who came for Jazz Fest and never left. Or who went home and quit their job and came back. I think Jazz Fest teaches them what to love about the city, and how to love it. It is a kind of distillation of the mythology of the city. Jazz Fest constantly underlines the relationship between the music of New Orleans (and Louisiana) and the culture as a whole. The food, the parades, the crafts, are all part of a larger fabric, as they are in the city itself. You won’t find posters advertising individual artists’ appearances at the fairgrounds. Music, the logic seems to run, is bigger than any individual’s music. And, furthermore, culture is bigger than music. Jazz Fest brings this notion into focus, gives it life, better than any other event I know.”
And here he calls out Barbara Bush for her ridiculous commentary on the poor folks who had evacuated to the Astrodome. – one of my deep seated beefs with upper class out of touch behaviour:
“And what about New Orleans? What is the future of the culture that came from all those neighborhoods with their own sense of being, formed over decades and decades, where parents and grandparents and great-grandparents had lived? Former first lady Barbara Bush, visiting the Astrodome, told a radio interviewer, “So many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them.” How could they possibly miss a place where they were, you know, underprivileged.”
“How could they miss a place where they knew everyone on the block? Or where they could walk to the grocery store and buy food and seasonings out of which they could prepare meals that were unique to that place and which they had eaten since childhood and which made them happy? How could they miss a place where there was music all the time, and where they could sit out in the evening on their front steps talking to people they had known for years, and joking in a way that everyone understood, or where their son had gotten dressed in his high school band uniform that they had saved hard-earned money to buy, and then went out to play in the band for the Mardi Gras parade? How could they miss the place where their granddaughter took her first steps, or their father had kept his uniform from World War Two in a cardboard suitcase lined with newspaper? How could you even say such a thing unless you assumed that people who were—you know—underprivileged had no past, no sense of life, no memories and no feelings—in short, weren’t really people at all, as we know them? That they were incapable of finding dignity and a reason to live even in the teeth of a hostile situation? The “underprivileged” people of New Orleans spun a culture out of their lives—a music, a cuisine, a sense of life—that has been recognized around the world as a transforming spiritual force. Out of those pitifully small incomes and crumbling houses, and hard, long days and nights of work came a staggering Yes, an affirmation of life—their lives, Life Itself—in defiance of a world that told them in as many ways as it could find that they were, you know, dispensable. This may seem obvious to you if you are reading this, but it bears saying over and over again: They are not dispensable. Not to New Orleans, not to America. And any scenario of a rebuilt New Orleans that does not embrace the fact of their centrality to New Orleans, that does not find a way to welcome them back and make jobs and a new life for them, will be an obscenity.”
I have a couple of videos to share this week, rather than Spotify links. Check out this Allmans performance on Johnny Carson with a young Warren Haynes:
And how about a Jazz Fest moment for the ages:
Coexist peacefully, with kindness and patience for all!