Saturday, May 06, 2006

Festerin' Festertash



Thursday night I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Then a vision appeared before me, the Ghost of Jazz Fest Past. It showed me joyous moments from my childhood Jazz Fests as well as the bitter day when I was trapped and abandoned in a port-o-potty, forming the basis for my present day humbuggery. Next, I was visited by the Ghost of Jazz Fest Present who showed me throngs of ecstatic, funky festers, exuberantly shimmying and shaking. Finally, I was visited by the Ghost of Jazz Fest Yet To Come who revealed the miserable, soul-less end my curmudgeonly, hippie-baiting ways will bring me to, if I don't change them.

I awoke, threw up the window, and shouted "Young lad, fetch me the largest, most colorful fest-hat you can find!" I sent a message around, "Tim, Tiny Tim, go to the Fest! Have fun! Be free!" I donned my giant hat and my oversized rice-and-beans shirt, slathered on the sunscreen, and away we went.

And a good time was had by all (except for June, because we left her bossy, fest-hatin' little butt in day care). Louise got to see one of her papa-pals sitting in with local kiddie-rock megastars. We ate damn fine food. I spent a bit of time in the baking sun watching Louise do art projects, which she could do for free at home in the air-conditioning. And then we went to the Gospel Tent, which (as always) made me cry, particularly when they sang a rousing, thundering chorus of:
If FEMA don't show up on time...
If FEMA don't show up on time...
If FEMA don't show up on time...
If FEMA don't show up on time...
Lift it up!
Lift it up!
Lift it up!
Lift it up!
Higher!
Higher!
Higher!
Higher!
Brilliant.

9 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:39 PM

    I'm so glad for the spirit visited you and a good time was had by all. My little future fest-hater was unhappy for most of the day (even with papa playing with his favorite band onstage) and I returned today to get my fix without him. You didn't mention the food. Your fest summary is incomplete unless you tell us what you ate! Did you get the Cochon de Lait or the Mirilton Seafood Casserole? Or both, like I did?

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  2. Did you hear the songs calling people home? The songs about the water rising? It was surreal to have people dancing around those lyrics, but not unlike a jazz funeral.

    And I remember the joy of watching Lu-Lu dancing from years past. great update! You need one for each year...

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  3. Do I owe you an oyster po' boy?
    It's difficult with little ones. I forgot you have two. Do hope the spirit lifted you up, up, up.

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  4. Cochon de Lait po-boy, crawfish beignets, and rose-mint-whatchyamacallit ice tea.

    And, Marco, I thought I owed you a po-boy. Well, I guess it wasn't technically Fats. How about a half po-boy? Is that fair?

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  5. We didn't have any kind of bet going, po-boy or not, but you totally owe us the port-o-potty story. Because the best way to overcome childhood traumas is to air them online to people you hardly know. Or so I've been told.

    Anyway, ghost of Jazzfest notwithstanding, please don't stop baiting the hippies. You could switch to "catch and release" if it makes you feel better.

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  6. It's a conundrum. As you've heard, Fats was too ill to perform but he was there. So, I think that if you had gone Sunday, you wouldn't have seen him perform but you might have seen him watching. But you went to Fest and Fest and Feast you did, that's the key. I owe you.

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  7. SO happy to hear you and yours had a great time at the Fest. I was hanging out in Prospect Park feigning to relive last week's fun at the Fairgrounds and my mom called to let me listen to Irma Thomas and Paul Simon sing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" with Allen Toussaint on the piano.

    Would love to see more Jazz Fest pix if you would be willing to post!

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  8. Wesley, the port-o-potty, I'm afraid, was a lie. Well, actually I'm happy it was a lie, but anyway...

    Marco, we'll split one and call it even.

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  9. Maybe we could split two. I'm a bit of a glutton.

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