I can feel it in my bones
It’s that time of year again in New Orleans, in Faubourg St. John, on the bayou – JAZZ FEST! And as usual, I have my brass pass in hand and can’t wait. This will be Tin’s first Jazz Fest and I hope there are many more in his future. Tonight, the strategy – to mark the acts I want to see and to make other choices as well. Tomorrow, by this time I will have had crawfish bread, rosemint tea, jama jama, and perhaps a mango freeze and Tin will hopefully have tried all of it. But the real sampling will come from the music – up tomorrow is Dr. John, Jon Cleary, and Jon Lovano, Irma Thomas tribute to Mahalia Jackson and on and on.
Sitting on the porch giving Tin his bottle, the big police RV is already in place at the foot of Grand Rt St John – another signal that Jazz Fest is here. My neighbor said that she counted the steps and minutes from her house to the gates of the Fairgrounds – 11 minutes if she doesn’t stop to talk to anyone. Another neighbor said when asked about his JF strategy, “Go often and early.” He said his two kids have been going since in utero.
I walked over to Swirl late in the afternoon and Fortier Park was roped off and already you could feel the buzz in the air. I stopped to speak to my new neighbor who bought the Spanish Custom House and he caught me on all the renovations and restorations and remodeling going on there (whew, I thought, glad I’m done with that). Purely New Orleans, he asked me over after Jazz Fest to a gathering he was having. How many places can you live where you meet someone and within a few minutes are asked to their house?
On the way back, I ran into Ruby and mom at the small playground and Tin got a ride home in Ruby’s Red Flyer wagon.
Jazz Fest!!!