“Fall Weather – must be festival season”

Monday morning was all Diana – she started with a run with Laurie and then the poor thing had to have a root canal done.  Her mouth was sore the rest of the day and night.

I was surprised to get an email for a Rush concert tour presale.  Their amazing drummer, Neal Peart, died several years ago and I really didn’t expect them to ever replace him.  And they haven’t only replaced him – but with a girl.  Who knew?  I’m hoping to be able to see them on this tour – one last time.  I’ve loved every one of their shows that I’ve attended.  Here’s what Rick Beato has to say about the new drummer, who played in Jeff Beck’s band before he died.

Late breaking news – I tried to buy tickets and was abhorred by the price they were asking.  There’s no way I’m paying close to $400 for a ticket when I can see amazing music here in New Orleans for $20.  That doesn’t even take into account the airfare and hotel to go and watch the show.  So disappointed in the remaining two members of Rush – just a money grab.

I watched a documentary about Paddy Chayefsky and enjoyed it a lot.  If you’re not familiar, he is the only screenwriter to win three Academy awards (for Marty, The Hospital, and Network.)  Here’s some more detail:

Paddy Chayefsky Wiki

I smiled when I heard that Paddy, Mel Brooks, Bob Fosse, and Neil Simon used to eat lunch together at the Carnegie Deli every day – can you imagine how entertaining those sessions were?

We made an excursion over to the old Gretna mall (10 minute drive, but on the other side of the Mississippi) on Tuesday afternoon.  I bought a replacement bezel and insert for my old watch and wanted to see if the watch repair guys there could install it, as I followed the instructions and couldn’t make it work.  It’s been a long time since I was in one of these malls – food court, Dillard’s, JC Penney and all the rest of the stores you would expect, and I realize that I have spent waaaay too much time in those over the years.  They couldn’t make the bezel work but did show me that it was slightly the wrong size and told me what model number to try and find.  I think I found one and will give it a try.

After that excitement, I stopped by the New Orleans Athletic Club (NOAC) for a pleasant swim and steam.

Diana started Wednesday with her usual run and yoga routine.  Meanwhile, I worked on the guitar part of “Centerfield” by John Fogerty – there is a lot of work to be done.  This is the first time that I’ve picked up the guitar in a while, and I’m looking forward to getting into learning some new songs.  I’m amazed at all the different way YouTube teachers tell you to play the same song.  And none of them seem to match up with what I watch Fogerty playing on his videos.

In the afternoon, we made the short walk down to Aquila Bistro for a coffee and a chat (crossword already done.)  I regaled Diana with stories from the “Perfect Tuba” book that I’m reading – discussing how the two perfect tubas created by the York company in the 1930s have not been duplicated after all the major and specialty manufacturers have tried.  Just like the difference between a Stradivarius and all comers.

We tried the NOAC pickleball court on Thursday morning.  It wasn’t useable, even for warm up rallying.  There were too many dead zones where the ball didn’t bounce at all.  I have since talked to the owner of the club who told me he’s having the stones re-laid and flattened to provide a better court.  We look forward to that happening.

I had a swim instead of pickleball and Diana walked on the treadmill.

After that, I twisted Diana’s arm and we drove over to 1,000 figs for a delicious Mediterranean lunch – sharing the falafel platter (more than enough for two.)

In the evening we watched the movie “What Happens Later” starring Meg Ryan and David Duchovny, and directed by Ryan.  This was a quiet movie – the two characters had a relationship many years ago, and meet randomly when attempting to catch connections in a small airport.  A snow storm delays their flights and they have an opportunity to catch up on their lives.  I enjoyed this one.

After that, I watched “Famous Last Words”, an interview with Jane Goodall that she made to air after her death.  She is so straight forward, open, and clear in her feelings.  One that made me laugh is when she talks about putting Musk, Trump, Trump’s lackeys, and Putin into Musk’s spaceship and launching them off into oblivion.  A very engaging watch.

Friday began with some time in Audubon park.  Diana and Julia met up for a walk and I had a short run and then walked with them.  Julia always has some entertaining news to share – this time that her husband, John, had just made his first hole in one on the golf course.  Had to happen at some point for someone who plays golf four or five times a week.

After that I drove Diana around on various errands – over the Mississippi (again) to the Harvey Target for some returns, over to the NOAC to pick up the fancy water bottle she forgot on the treadmill yesterday, and then to the Whole Foods on Broad Street to pick up some supplies for the weekend.  Quite the tour of New Orleans area hotspots…

John Prine’s (likely my favourite song writer) birthday was celebrated at the Broadside on Friday night with Dave Jordan and an amazing band that he assembled.

Rurik Nunan was the star of the band for me – wonderful violin and a great voice, and seemed to be keeping the band on point and organized.  Here he is doing the hilarious “In Spite of Ourselves” with his wife:

I think she did a great job of hamming up the Iris DeMent part.

Lynn Drury did a great job with “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness”, followed by “Hello in There” and finally “Angel from Montgomery.”  The emotional impact of those three in a row was almost too much for us.

Dave Pomerlou did a good job on a couple of songs and was very solid on the bass:

Jacob Tanner was a star on the pedal steel and slide resonator:

What an amazing band playing some of my favourite music!

Saturday started early so that Diana could vote in the local election before meeting Laurie for a run.  I walked down to the Magazine Street firehouse with her and had a coffee while she voted across the street.

Walking in the newly arrived fall weather is a treat.

After the walk, I spent some very pleasant time reading on the front porch.  Tourist season is picking up rapidly and there were many folks walking past to meet up with walking tours or to enjoy jazz brunch at Commander’s Palace.

Tommy showed up to change out the air conditioning filters and do some other minor A/C work.  I had expected him yesterday, but was happy he came by.

We drove to Jeff and Merry Lee’s place on Saturday afternoon, parked there, and then walked to the Blues and BBQ festival at Lafayette square.  Carolyn Wonderland, a favourite from our time at the Kessler theater in Dallas and at various venues in Austin, got things started for us.

I learned something new in Carolyn’s intro speech to one of her songs.  She was the lead guitar player in the John Mayall Blues band from 2017 until he retired in 2022.  That’s the same band that introduced us to Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and many others.  Here’s some more details from Carolyn:

Carolyn Wonderland in John Mayall Blues Band

And a performance with John Mayall:

Kara and Anne met us at the festival and the girls enjoyed a chat on our blanket:

After Carolyn, Leo Nocentelli did a set on the opposite stage.  This festival is run by the guys that do the Jazzfest and everything runs to the minute with no downtime between stages.  Leo was a founding member of the Meters – the famous funk band from New Orleans that created a whole new style of music.  Leo wrote “Cissy Strut” – part of Diana’s introductory course to New Orleans music.

Leo Nocentelli bio

And here’s the 1975 Meters song, “Fire on the Bayou”:

Diana organized food – bringing me yummy garlic shrimp and noodles from the wonderful Vietnamese “Magasin,” and a pupusa for herself from the batture farmer’s market guys.

The Devon Allman Blues Summit were the headliners.  Devon is the son of Cher and Duane Allman – looks somewhat like his mother and sings like an even more soulful version of his father.  I loved this entire set – alternating Allman Bros songs with their own band and other covers.

My favourite from the Summit was “Little Wing”, the Jimmy Hendrix song that was covered by Duane Allman (Devon’s uncle) on the Derek and the Dominoes album.  Here’s the start of the Dominoes version:

And the end:

Larry McCray, a special member of the Summit, did an amazing version of Soulshine:

I love the Les Paul guitar sound on Mellisa:

And the band finished up with “Midnight Rider:”

What a great afternoon and evening of music.

Sunday brought a whole change of pace.  We started with a long walk down St Charles Avenue (the streetcar line) to the Jefferson intersection, approximately 2 miles, stopping for a coffee at the Columns on the way back home.  Such luxury in such nice weather.

We went to a new country and met the people with their different language and customs on Sunday afternoon.  What Kenny calls “the Bahamas of the 9th Ward.”

Trey lives in Venetian Isles – I had no idea that it was a 30 minute drive from our home.  The annual Fishing Rodeo was a hoot – not our normal group of folks but a great time.  Trey’s friend Nina provided the great music:

Denny participated in the competition but didn’t win the flounder category he was betting on:

A quote from Trey – “No sharks on my boat, you can go to Popeye’s for dinner and it won’t bit you back – absolutely no sharks on my boat.”

Look at these keen fishermen:

And this guy with the hat that Will gave me from his Wolf clothing line – the guys were calling it my “rapper hat” because of the straight bill:

I oscillated between a few books this week.  The first was “The Perfect Tuba: Forging Fulfillment from the Bass Horn, Band, and Hard Work” by Sam Quinones, a decorated journalist who had focused on drug issues until now.  Here’s an online summary:

“The tuba’s sound is mighty, emerging, it seems, from deep in the human body. Very little music has, up until recently, been written to play to its strengths. The best the tuba seems to promise is a seat at the back of the band. No stadium shows, no Internet adulation. And yet, this horn-the youngest of all brass instruments-has captured the hearts of an inspired group of musicians ever since its invention in 1835.

In The Perfect Tuba, Sam Quinones embarks on a trek to get to know American tubists. He tells the astounding stories of two men who set out to replicate the “perfect tuba,” an instrument made by York & Sons in the 1930s and never since equaled; of Big Bill Bell, whose 1950s album rearranged the tuba landscape; and of Arnold Jacobs, a tuba guru at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, who studied the physiology of breathing and offered rune-like nuggets of wisdom to his legions of students. Quinones also takes us through the tuba scenes of New Orleans, Orlando, Knoxville, New York City, and, most importantly, Roma, Texas, a dusty town in the Rio Grande Valley where a visionary high school marching band director fashioned a program that now regularly wins state championships and sends its students off to college.

After nearly a decade on the front lines of America’s battle with drug addiction, Sam Quinones delivers another story of our nation, this time brought together by the transformative power of shared joy and humble achievement.”

I remember the first time that I heard Arnold Jacobs and the Chicago Symphony on a piece where the tuba was somewhat prevalent – I was amazed at the depth and resonance of the sound and assumed it was related to the location used for the recording.  Turns out he was playing one of the two “perfect tubas.”

There’s a quote in the book about a tuba student who sees John Fletcher play with the Philip Jones Brass Ensemble for the first time and is astounded when he breaks out the “Flight of the Bumblebee.”  I vividly remember Dad taking me to see these guys and being amazed at the versatility and quality of the playing.

Here’s my favourite John Fletcher and overall tuba recording:

A recording called “Big Bell and his Tuba” from the 1950s was mentioned in the book as the earliest album to feature the tuba as a solo instrument.  This is a very entertaining album:

My second book was “The Common Good” by Robert Reich (of the documentary that we watched a couple of weeks ago.)  This was an insightful and frustrating read.  I agree with most of Reich’s points and we are moving so quickly away from anything resembling what he advocates for.

Reich’s premise for why something needs to be done about “The Common Good”:

” I WAS AT the impressionable age of fourteen when I heard John F. Kennedy urge us not to ask what America can do for us but what we can do for America. Seven years later I took a job as a summer intern in the Senate office of his brother Robert F. Kennedy. It was not a glamorous job, to say the least. I felt lucky when I was asked to run his signature machine. But I told myself that in a very tiny way I was doing something for the good of the country. That was a half century ago. I wish I could say America is a better place now than it was then. Surely our lives are more convenient. Fifty years ago there were no cash machines or smartphones, and I wrote my first book on a typewriter. As individuals, we are as kind and generous as ever. We volunteer in our communities, donate, and help one another. We pitch in during natural disasters and emergencies. We come to the aid of individuals in need. We are a more inclusive society, in that African Americans, women, and gays have legal rights they didn’t have a half century ago. Yet our civic life—as citizens in our democracy, participants in our economy, managers or employees of companies, and members or leaders of organizations—seems to have sharply deteriorated. What we have lost, I think, is a sense of our connectedness to each other and to our ideals—the America that John F. Kennedy asked that we contribute to.”

A definition of “The Common Good:”

My third book didn’t last long – I gave it one chapter and was thoroughly bored with the quoting of names, record labels, and recordings with no through story or narrative.  Absolutely not my thing.

I love this song that I heard on a recent TV show.  Is it sampling Leon Russell?  I think it has to be but haven’t confirmed yet:

I just listened and can confirm that the vocal is definitely sampled:

This band is playing at the newly reopened Jazz Market soon and may be worth a visit:

Coexist peacefully, with kindness and patience for all.

“New Orleans – amazing music on every corner”

Monday was a day of rest and recovery after a very busy previous few days.

We invited Kenny to join us to see the documentary “Last Class” on Tuesday.  This is about the last semester that Robert Reich, former U.S. Secretary of Labor, taught his “Wealth and Poverty” class at the University of California in Berkeley.  The class is about the widening income and equality gaps, but I think the most poignant parts of the film are when Reich reflects on his teaching career and what it means to retire.  As the son of two highly dedicated educators, this film really resonated with me.  I strongly recommend seeing this film if you can find it.

If you’d like to know some more about Reich’s life and the positions he held in government over many, many administrations, you can check out this blog post that I put together after watching the film:

My Robert Reich blog – biography and links to his writings and podcasts

Trivia Tuesday was a mediocre performance.  Thom had some correct answers that we didn’t use for various reasons – mostly that he wasn’t emphatic enough that he really knew the answer.  We did get the last question correct and added twenty points to our total, breaking one hundred:

Do you know the order, North to South?

It’s Oslo, Ottawa (we had a lot of debate over which was further north), Oklahoma City, and then Ouagadougou.  If you’re like me you’re wondering where the heck that last place is.  Well, it’s the capital of Burkina Faso.  Not helpful?  I know.  Here’s the location in West Africa:

Don’t forget that for the next time it comes up in trivia (ten years from now.)

Diana began Wednesday in typical form – a run in the park followed by yoga.  She always seems pumped and energized on return.  This time she stopped at Whole Foods and brought me some delicious Indian food for lunch.  That might have been my reward for attempting to strap the silly Halloween spider to the porch column – I realized it was a two person job after my third attempt.  It took about a minute with Diana’s help.

Having completed “project spidey”, we took on replacing a can light in the kitchen.  The hardest part was hauling the very heavy “little giant” ladder in from the three car garage (small ToughShed) and setting it up for McD to scale.  She had the replacement installed very efficiently.

In the evening I half watched the “America’s Got Talent” show while reading – that was until this crazy trapeze performance.  I’ve never seen anything quite like that.

A street singer busker from New Orleans, Jordan Blue, won third place in the finals.

I started watching a Netflix series, Black Rabbit, with Jude Law and Jason Bateman later in the evening.  It’s very dark but very good.  Most episodes are directed by either Bateman or Laura Linney, with somewhat of an “Ozark” feel.

We tried to play pickleball at the New Orleans Athletic Club on Thursday morning.  It’s outdoor and it had rained a bit in the morning – so it was a no go as the court was too slippery.  We decided to take a look anyway and it took some work to find the thing.  Make a turn at the vending machine by the stairs to the pool.  We did and it didn’t seem right – no signs and an outdoor walkway that customers would never be allowed to use in other states – and there it was:

The hidden joys of a very old athletic club – we’ll be back to play in a few days.  I do have to wonder why they have big speakers spaced every few feet around this courtyard space.

Kenny invited me to go to lunch and shopping for Kara’s milestone birthday.  He very efficiently procured something from Kiki Huston, one of Kara’s favourites.  Kiki is quite the artist with silver and gemstones.

The Dutch Alley artist co-op was an interesting place – painters, sculptors, photographers, jewelry and others all in one place.

Next stop was Port O’ Call for lunch.  Your choice is a burger or a big steak.  I opted for the mushroom cheeseburger.

There are no fries, salad or other side choices.  Only a baked potato and choice of toppings – cheese, chives, bacon, mushrooms, sour cream.  It’s been a long time since I enjoyed a baked potato.

The burger and potato were both delicious and I had nice leftovers for post-nap afternoon snack time.   The newspaper had their “Best of New Orleans” issue this week and I wasn’t surprised to see Port O’ Call with a few mentions:

I really enjoyed this Diane Millsap canvas painting of Port O’ Call:

Looking into her other works, I found this very nice St Charles streetcar painting:

Diana had read something online about a “one day only” tasting of five different sashimi grade tunas at GW Fins on Thursday evening.  I shuddered to think how much that would cost, but decided to go with it.  We’ll sit at the bar and if it’s ludicrous then we can just have a drink and leave.  I was still pretty full from the burger and tater but would try something if forced to.  It turns out the sashimi was reasonably priced and amazing.

Diana declared the cognac French 75 that the bartender created for her “the best I ever had.”  Seems like we were off to a good start.  She loved all the sashimi tuna.  I tried her favourite and it was very fresh and delicious, albeit not my go to food group.

I gave into pressure and ordered the fried oyster “Bahn Mi.”  I put quotes on that because it was brioche toast and not a steamed bun.  This was ridiculously tasty:

Diana, not having sucked down a burger and tater at lunch, was still hungry.  She had the tuna tartare tarts – I sampled one and they were also ridiculously good.

One has to wonder why we have never been to this restaurant before.  We loved everything about it.  Answer – there are just too many amazing places in this city.  Look at all these “best of” awards this place won this week in the newspaper polls:

You’ve read my musings about number 2, Peche, and I do think for pure seafood, GW Fins is superior.

Ahead of Galatoire’s?  I have so many wonderful memories of number 2 – bachelor party, Cowboys-Saints game with the maître d wearing my Cowboys jacket, Halloween with Diana.  I don’t agree that GW Fins comes out ahead of the overall Galatoire’s experience.  And that is just what it is – my opinion versus the readers.  They can’t get them all correct.

Another disagreement so soon?  Yes!  Commanders is the place to get dressed up and go and do the fine dining with fun.  GW Fins was certainly fine dining but without the je ne sais quoi (pizzaz) of Commanders .

I’m going to let this one slide.  And if you’re not from New Orleans, I know you’re tired of reading these debates already.  I love the garden at N7, as you would have read last week.  Diana did mention the semi-circular booths at GW Fins that she thought were “very romantic.”

One last “best of” – Diana’s favourite New Orleans place, Cafe Degas, was voted best French restaurant.  And it’s the antithesis of what that term might evoke – very casual and reasonably priced with wonderful food.

I awoke Friday, picked up my phone, and noticed the cards in the back sleeve sliding around unusually – where’s my usual credit card that locks them in there?  Oh no – I left it at GW Fins.  How could that have happened?  I have a system, a best practice even – put the card away before signing the check.  Ugh!  I locked the card and went about my business for a while.  We had a walk and run in Audubon park (humidity down now and almost bearable.)  After that we went to Martin wine store to put together a gift basket for Kara’s birthday on Sunday.  While waiting on Diana to choose things, I made a call to GW Fins – yes they had my card and, although not open, would be happy to bring it out to me, if I called them on arrival.

We decided to go and get the card while the basket was being assembled and shrink wrapped.  They always say fifteen minutes and take at least thirty.  I was so excited to drive up Bourbon Street and into the French Quarter for a second time in two days – it’s a lot of work to avoid all the human obstacles.  I retrieved my card and we drove back to Martin to pick up the gift basket.

The basket was not to D’s standards – they had a package of something with a big price tag in the middle.  Everyone agreed it obviously needed to be redone.  Said Andrew, “they gave me a lot of wine training and not much gift wrap training.”  We sat in the parking lot and waited for the redo – nicely done.

I went for a haircut on Friday afternoon, and was looking forward to hearing about Derek’s (barber) update on his trip to a wedding in Australia.  I was surprised when he told me that the Australians tried to ruin his trip – they see Trump on TV all day and assumed he was a disciple – such a sorry global situation.  I felt badly for him as Diana and I have had nothing but wonderful experiences with the Australian population.  Times change.

I had a coffee and picked up a “puzzle” for Diana on my way home.  Aquila bistro has these “blind date with a puzzle” offerings.  I was hoping the “surreal” piece wasn’t going to be another Salvador Dali puzzle.  Let’s see:

No, not Dali, but a lot of detail in that tiger’s neck.  The puzzle has already been started with pieces being organized in the drawers of the puzzle board.  I predict significant progress while I’m watching football today.

Due to the summer humidity, it’s been a while since we spent time on the Columns porch or patio.  The evenings are now great for patio sitting, and so we decided to support the NOLA x NOLA music week offering of River Eckert and Matt Perrin on the Columns porch.

River is fifteen and plays and sings like an old veteran, and has for a couple of years now:

Here’s one of my favourite of his videos.  That’s our favourite New Orleans artist, Frenchy, painting away behind him:

For more about River Eckert, check out this post:

River Eckert – videos and biography

I love this video of Matt Perrin doing the “Baby Elephant” walk in a club on Frenchmen:

We started Saturday with a trip over to the Bywater Bakery.  This is about a fifteen minute drive from home, and close to Elizabeth’s.  As previously discussed, we thought fifteen minutes was “close by” in McKinney, while in New Orleans it’s almost outside the acceptable drive circumference.

Kyle Roussel, genius level local pianist, was advertised to be playing at the bakery.  I expected an old upright piano, a la Booker session at the back room in the Maple Leaf  (Andre Bohren last week.)  No – this was the grand piano in a pickup situation.  Note the ladder to get in the bed and sunshade.

The bakery is amazing.  Always in the running for best King cake and with some amazing looking sandwiches and pastries – I’m coming back for lunch soon.

Kyle is one of my favourite pianists – so creative and with such a unique touch and style:

Here’s a track from his album, “Church of New Orleans”, with John Boutte:

Diana, Kara and Nina enjoyed the cabana and pool at Merry Lee’s condominium on Saturday afternoon – early birthday celebration for Kara.  Diana took two kinds of Chantilly cream cakes from Bywater bakery to the pool.  Apparently they were well received by all three girls.

I saw a piece about Major General Joseph McNeil on a Sunday news program.  He was one of the “Greensboro Four”:

“On February 1, 1960, McNeil and his fellow activists, Ezell Blair, Franklin McCain and David Richmond, walked together from the university’s library to the Woolworth‘s store in downtown Greensboro.^[12] Once there, the men purchased some items, and then sat down at the “whites only” lunch counter, where the group was refused service. McNeil and the group stayed until the store closed, and then left to return the next day.”

I visited that Woolworth’s on a trip to Greensboro while working for AIG.  Such a sense of history looking at it.

More here:

Major General Joseph McNeil

I’m watching football now – the Saints are actually almost hanging in there with the Buffalo Bills.  I had predicted a massive blowout for the Bills.  Football is so slow with so many commercials that I usually catch up on my magazine reading during a game.  The cover of the New Yorker this week made me laugh:

I finished up “I Might be in Trouble” by Daniel Aleman this week.  Lots of entertaining twists in the tail.  I really enjoyed this read, but be careful if you don’t like the dark and different stuff.

This showed up on one of the final pages:

““How is—” “Listen, I was thinking,” he says. “Would you want to go grab dinner? Or drinks? I just… wanted to celebrate with you, unless you have other—”

Begin rant – When did the “grab” verb insert itself into these kind of phrases?  I don’t ever want to “grab” dinner or drinks.  I want to sit down, relax and leisurely enjoy them.  I see it in buttons to click to buy tickets for a movie or a show – “Grab your tickets now.”  I’m fine with “buying” a ticket but not really interested in “grabbing” one.  Rant over.

I also read “Kermit Ruffins and Vaughan’s Lounge” by Jay Mazza, inspired by his turn as an interview host for the book talk at Octavia last week.  This was wonderful and reminded me of my first night in New Orleans and is a short manifesto on why we moved here.

A quote prior to my first visit to New Orleans:

“Kermit’s gig at the tiny Bywater club has become the spot for up and coming and established jazz stars to jam in a low-key setting to a truly appreciative crowd.  You never know who’s going to show up, and this night proves to be incredibly special.  Pianist Henry Butler sits in for the entire second set and leaves the keys burnin’ and smokin’ with his monstrous chops.  Probably the single best soloing of the entire year.  Kermit was good too.”

On my first ever night in New Orleans, Henry Butler sat in with Kermit.  I could not believe the piano virtuoso I was hearing in this tiny dive bar – not to mention Kermit on the trumpet, the ridiculous bass, and the strong drumming.  After reading this book, I understand a bit more of all that went into creating that.

And thanks to Anne for stopping to introduce Mr. Butler to me on her way to getting him a cab (he was blind.)

I’m glad I finally made it to the city I knew I should be in after that first night.

I enjoyed this piece in the New Yorker by Zadie Smith about writing essays for tests and otherwise:

Zadie Smith – on the impersonal essay

I like to read “five albums that I can’t live without” on Spin magazine’s site.  This week made me smile.  The comments on Springsteen’s Nebraska from a metal guy were so on point with my feelings and so well articulated ahead of the new movie about this album starring Jeremy Allen White (of the Bear):

His second choice reminded me of a night in New York with the late Greg Holowach.  We arrived at a cigar bar and the bartender put on this album.  I started talking to the guy next to me about it and he went DEEP into the  musical technicality of it.  I can’t remember a good example.  I finally asked him what he did for a living.  “I write symphonies, and my latest is being premiered by the New York Philharmonic tonight.  I’m too nervous to attend.”  Huh – feel free to critique Radiohead with me then…

And lastly, the third choice from this metal dude, I listened to extensively in my bedroom, fascinated by how these guitar and jazz parts went together:

Weird that all those three parts were in different sizes and different fonts on the same technology – not my IT problem anymore.  I did remind Diana that we saw Johnny Depp perform with Jeff Beck shortly before he died (Beck, not Depp).  “Isolation” was the song they swaggered through together.

I love the trombone rhythm section on this:

And finally something from the master:

Coexist peacefully, with patience and kindness for all.

“Good Friends + 4 Days in New Orleans = Priceless”

When I left you last Sunday, the Cowboys and Saints were both losing.  The Cowboys did finally manage to eke out a win with an amazing 64 yard field goal by Aubrey – he is certainly a bright spot on the team.  The Saints were not so fortunate either that Sunday or particularly the most recent Sunday.

Augie was busy for several hours decorating for Halloween:

Diana had a routine medical test on Monday that required fasting for a while.  I gave her the choice of where to have lunch afterwards.  “Let’s go to Shaya, we haven’t been there in while.”  It was shortly after 11am and there were two other folks in the place.  The temperature was set to very cold and so we asked to sit on the patio.  Apparently opening the patio door to serve us was going to be too much.  So we left for plan B.

Red Dog Diner was happy to sit us outside.  We missed the 8-10am morning Happy Hour but I had a frozen Irish coffee anyway (a meal in itself.)

I entertained myself in the afternoon with the Americana music awards while Diana napped.   John C. Reilly hosted and did a nice version of Tom Waits’ “Picture in a Frame:”

Mary and Chuck finally arrived in Scotland on a trip that Mum helped them plan a while ago:

I’m looking forward to hearing about it.

I met my friend Fred from Plano (really from New Orleans originally but now lives in the Dallas area) for Happy Hour at the Evangeline on Tuesday afternoon.  I picked the location so that Fred could walk from his sister’s house and that worked out very well.  This is one of Kenny’s favourite bars and I felt guilty going for the first time without him, but had a great visit with Fred.

Trivia on Tuesday night – all good through the first half and then we took a  nosedive.  We were close on this final question.  You had to guess within five of the total and we were just a few outside that.  The only one we knew with certainty was the hockey goals – seven.

Diana began Wednesday in typical fashion – a run and then yoga.  Then we went to look at a house on Nashville Ave that had a nice pool, pool house, and way more rooms than we need.  Too much upkeep and maintenance on that place.

We got some culture on Wednesday evening at a reading at Octavia books.  Here’s what their email said about the event:

“From the legendary producer of Nick Drake, R.E.M., Toots and the Maytals, and Pink Floyd and author of White Bicycles: Making Music in the 1960s comes a riveting, world-spanning tour de force illuminating the artists, histories, controversies, and collaborations that shaped global music.”

I enjoyed the stories and music that he played.  I picked up a book by the interviewer, Jay Mazza, about Kermit Ruffins and Vaughan’s lounge.  Mazza attended over 300 Thursday night shows at the venue with Kermit and band.  That’s where I ended up on my first ever evening in New Orleans and I was sold.

One of my favourite songs that I heard that night:

Back at the house we watched an episode of the new “Morning Show” series – not too exciting yet.

April and Jason, friends from Austin, arrived on Thursday morning.  We had a nibble on a breakfast casserole that I made for the first time – yummy, and then it was off to Commander’s Palace for lunch.

After the usual trio of small soups, I passed on the usual stuffed quail and tried the cochon de lait tostada – a good new option.  And of course, you can’t finish without the whiskey souffle:

Next up, Booker Sessions at the Maple Leaf.  This week was Andre Bohren and he was strictly classical – none of the hybrid style that Booker is famous for creating.  Lots of Chopin and Liszt.

A brief stop in to Jacques-Imo’s for alligator cheesecake and a hello to Debra, and we had day one of the visit in the books.

Our guests had not spent time in the French Quarter and so we rectified that with a brief ramble on Friday afternoon.  We stopped in the lovely Peychaud’s courtyard where Jason fell in love with the Hurricane cocktail.

We had the obligatory wander down Bourbon Street and back up Royal Street, then caught a car over to N7.  This is always such a lovely place to take guests when the weather is nice.  The garden seating worked out very well, and we were able to share several menu highlights: tomato salad (the popping flavours), octopus, duck liver pate, tarte flambee traditionelle (always a highlight for me with those lardons and caramelized onions) and steak au poivre.

After that N7 feast, we regrouped and made a visit to Dos Jefes to watch the Joe Krown trio.  After a bit of a late start (actually 30 minutes late is pretty much on time for New Orleans) we were treated to one of the best performances that I’ve heard from Joe.

We met the local krewe (Jack, Alex, Thom, Laura) at Oak and Ale to watch football on Saturday afternoon.  That gave April and Jason a chance for a repeat French Quarter visit and another Hurricane.

We enjoyed dinner together at the Bouligny Tavern.   How did they get that smoky char on the broccolini with the burrata?  The deviled eggs were also very fancy:

We planned on Elizabeth’s in the Bywater for brunch on Sunday.  I had a last minute thought that it would be nice to invite Chris who lives close.  Diana did not he was joining until she saw his bike parked in front.  Nice surprise!

They always have such a good selection of brunch specials – hard to decide:

The Cowboys and Saints both lost their games in the afternoon – the Saints by the worst margin since the 1970s – going to be a long season for them.

I’m a little over half way through “I Might be in Trouble” by Daniel Aleman.  I’m finding it well written and funny so far, albeit a bit dark.  Here’s the online summary:

“A “hilarious, suspense-filled” dark comedy about a struggling writer who wakes up to find his date from the night before dead—and must then decide how far he’s willing to go to use this as inspiration for his next book (Entertainment Weekly).

A few years ago, David Alvarez had it all: a six-figure book deal, a loving boyfriend, and an exciting writing career. His debut novel was a resounding success, which made the publication of his second book—a total flop—all the more devastating. Now, David is single, lonely, and desperately trying to come up with the next great idea for his third manuscript, one that will redeem him in the eyes of readers, reviewers, the entire publishing world…and maybe even his ex-boyfriend.

But good ideas are hard to come by, and the mounting pressure of a near-empty bank account isn’t helping. When David connects with a sexy stranger on a dating app, he figures a wild night out in New York City may be just what he needs to find inspiration.

But after one of the best nights of his life, David wakes up hungover but giddy—only to find prince charming dead next to him in bed. Suddenly faced with the implausible idea that he may have actually killed his date, David calls the only person he can trust in a moment of crisis: his literary agent, Stacey.

Together, David and Stacey must untangle the events of the previous night, cover their tracks, and spin the entire misadventure into David’s career-defining novel—if only they can figure out what to do with the body first.”

The passing of Robert Redford brought to mind this song from Allison Moorer that she performed in “The Horse Whisperer:”

Take a listen to this gorgeous cover of “Dancing in the Dark” that Jason shared with us:

Coexist peacefully, with patience and kindness for all!

“Hello Cleveland”

Monday was the fist low humidity day in months and we took advantage by walking down to Aquila Bistro and Cafe.  It’s only half a mile away and we haven’t been since it opened in what used to be the Rabbit’s Foot (a coffee shop that I really enjoyed.)  The food and coffees were very good and the service excellent.  We’ll put this back on the rotation – we have so many good coffee shops in walking distance, particularly as it starts to cool off a wee bit.

Diana got avocado toast which was served with tater tots (her number one comfort food), eggs and a salad.  All very good.  The shop had a clever item for sale – “A date with a puzzle.”  These were jigsaw puzzles wrapped up with a description that included the number of pieces and three words to describe the subject.  Maybe I’ll have to go back and get one for McD to do on a rainy day.

I’ve been working to step up my omelet game in retirement.  Plenty of time for chives, avocado and radishes to spice up the presentation:

We were planning to see the Spinal Tap II movie on Friday, followed by the “Hello, Cleveland” cover band.  In anticipation we had Kenny, Kara, Thom, Libby and Jack over to watch the original movie on Monday night.  The classic line from the original is that their amplifiers go to “11.”  Diana helped me adjust mine to the same:

Spinal Tap II was filmed mostly in New Orleans with cameos from Paul McCartney and Elton John.  The cheese shop scenes were filmed in the store next to my barber, Aidan Gill, and he provided the “green room” for the day with Guinness and Irish whiskies.  Diana and I wandered by and saw Rob Reiner directing the action in “Nigel’s Cheese Shop.”

I ordered up some coasters and a wee Stonehenge (plays a role in the original movie stage set) to make things fun.

We had a fish and chips dining theme (would have been better if Jack had remembered his freshly caught snapper) with malt vinegar and tartar sauce – the easiest British food we could come up with on short notice.

Here’s the trailer for Spinal Tap II – complete with the Stonehenge themed 2:

I thought these beers were funny – came across them while shopping for Monday dinner with Jack “O”gan.

We seem to think we won trivia on Tuesday – there appears to be some confusion but we’re going with it.  The only questions I knew were these two:

“Fuddy Duddy”

“Jimmy Johnson”

By the time I called Denny on Wednesday morning he had already heard from Jack that I was minimally helpful.

We made it to the Hot and Soul restaurant next to the new Trader Joe’s for lunch on Wednesday.  This is a single shotgun house and seemed to have an interesting menu.  I enjoyed the veggie curry and Diana had a tasty ceviche.    We sat at the bar and I was surprised when one of the cooks proceeded to chop up more than a dozen onions on a surface just behind the bar.  I asked the bartender/waitress why he didn’t do that in the back instead of bringing tears to all of our eyes.  I got what I’m sure she thought was a funny reply, but it just seemed rude and flippant to me.  Not sure I’ll be rushing back to this place.

Diana led an expedition to the Banks Street Bar on Wednesday evening to listen to Mia Borders perform.  This was a pleasant neighbourhood bar and Mia played a good set that started on time at 6pm – always appreciated by the old folks.

We split a burger from the place next door and enjoyed it with the music.

“Set It Up” was a funny movie that we watched later in the evening.

Zoey Deutch and Glen Powell were very entertaining.

I accompanied Diana to a doctor appointment on Thursday and then we made a visit to Octavia books – such a nice store and much expanded.  I picked up the Tom Piazza book about his friendship with John Prine and “Buckeye” by Patrick Ryan.  More to come on both of those soon.

We picked up Kenny and Kara for the Spinal Tap II excursion on Friday evening.  Here’s how the Broad newsletter advertised the event:

“First up, on Friday night, we have a twofer of Spinal Tap bliss! At 7pm, we will screen the film at The Broad Theater, then immediately following, Broadside will host HELLO CLEVELAND, the greatest (and maybe only?) Spinal Tap cover band. Hello Cleveland is compromised of Marc Paradis on guitar, Beth Patterson on electric bouzouki-tar, Dave Pomerleau on bass, Mike Barras on drums, and Josh Paxton on keys (most of the members from Johnny Sketch and the Dirty Notes). Check-in will be at the theater where you will be given a wrist band to enter Broadside.”

The movie was very funny and well done – I enjoyed it even more than the first one.  Diana was particularly entertained – haven’t seen her laugh as much at a movie ever.  We both remarked that it was fun to watch a movie in a full theater with folks that were enjoying the humour.

The cover band of all-star local musicians was also very entertaining.  What a lot of work those guys did for a one night only performance.  Here are some highlights:

“Heavy Duty”:

The wonderful pianist, Josh Paxson, doing an intro to “Stonehenge”:

A couple of clips from “Stonehenge”:

Jeff was in town solo on Saturday to attend his Mom’s birthday on Sunday.  Merry Lee had to attend a funeral.  We met Jeff at the Rusty Nail (walking distance from his condo) to watch the LSU college football game.

We left at halftime and watched the conclusion (a nice win for LSU) from our respective homes.  Jeff enjoyed the Rusty Nail and was excited that it was dog friendly.

Diana joined me on a walk to French Truck coffee this morning.  I realized on leaving that I had made quite a mess on the floor with my very flaky and delicious croissant.

I’m currently watching the Saints struggle to get anything going against the San Francisco 49ers.  And there was just an update that the Cowboys (not on TV in New Orleans) are losing to the Giants.  There’s still time for both teams to recover.

This article in the Tuesday newspaper reminded me of the literary geniuses that have inhabited New Orleans over the years:

William Faulkner spent a year in New Orleans. It influenced his writing all his life.

The Nobel laureate remembered the city with affection, saying he “had more fun there than I ever had and ever will have again anywhere.”

• BY JOSEPH MAKKOS | Contributing writer
• Sep 5, 2025

For aspiring writers, New Orleans in the 1920s wasn’t just another city; it was a cultural crucible where artistic voices were forged amid a tolerant, bohemian atmosphere. For William Faulkner, his transformative stay in the French Quarter in 1925 proved pivotal, marking his transition from an aspiring poet to a fledgling novelist and profoundly shaping his literary trajectory.

When Faulkner arrived in January 1925, a few months after his 27th birthday, he was only passing through on his way to Europe. But he quickly fell under the city’s spell, finding in its French Quarter a poor man’s Paris where he could live cheaply and richly among artists.

He rented a modest apartment in Pirate’s Alley (then Orleans Alley), today a literary landmark. This lean living situation was part of the Quarter’s allure: Low rents attracted a diverse creative class that lived and worked cheek by jowl in its crumbling townhouses.

The city itself was a sensory feast. Faulkner wandered its alleys with his notebook, soaking up what he called the “city’s sweet stink,” the cacophony of street vendors, jazz  and dialects swirling together in the Quarter’s courtyards and cafes.

“The brooding and timeless quality of the city,” he observed, “is broken only by the sudden raucous cry of a newsboy or the ironic laughter of a drunk.” It was the city’s unapologetic pageantry and mercurial cast of characters, observed with a sharp outsider’s eye, that would teach him to inhabit perspectives far beyond his Mississippi roots.

According to Jay Watson, recently retired Distinguished Professor of English and Howry Professor of Faulkner Studies at the University of Mississippi, New Orleans offered the young writer something Oxford, Mississippi, could not.

“In Oxford, Faulkner was condescended to for wanting to live a life of the mind,” Watson said. “In New Orleans, he found an aesthetic metropolis — a community of like-minded people that gave him permission to stay with this kind of life.”

A decisive influence during this period was Sherwood Anderson, the celebrated author of “Winesburg, Ohio,” who had made New Orleans his semiretirement home. Anderson encouraged Faulkner to abandon poetry for prose, advice that changed the young Mississippian’s life.  Anderson also introduced Faulkner to his New York publisher, paving the way for his first novel, “Soldier’s Pay.”

Faulkner never forgot the kindness, later dedicating the book to Anderson. But as Watson notes, Anderson’s impact went even deeper: “Ironically, one of the most important things Sherwood Anderson ever did for Faulkner was to tell him to leave New Orleans — to go back to Mississippi, to the place he knew best, if he really wanted to maximize his talent.”

The French Quarter’s literary ferment brought him into orbit with other figures, including William Spratling, John McClure and Roark Bradford. Spratling, a Tulane architecture instructor and Faulkner’s housemate, collaborated with him on “Sherwood Anderson and Other Famous Creoles,” a satirical limited-edition book that caricatured the bohemian circle around them.

McClure, an editor at The Times-Picayune and the influential Double Dealer magazine, became one of Faulkner’s earliest champions, publishing his first poem and later his experimental prose sketches.

The Times-Picayune itself became Faulkner’s training ground. He sold numerous short stories and sketches to the paper, often earning $5 to $15 apiece — much-needed income for the young writer.

His series, initially titled “Mirrors of Chartres Street,” offered slice-of-life portraits of the city’s inhabitants, written with a poet’s ear but shaped by the practical realities of newspaper work.

Paid by the inch, Faulkner learned to adapt his lush style into something immediate and concise. “Being paid by The Times-Picayune must have been empowering for Faulkner,” Watson said. “For the first time, he was making coin for his writing — not vanity press or favors from friends, but real income. It helped him believe in himself.”

Beyond journalism, New Orleans gave him experiences that became raw material for fiction. A disastrous yacht excursion on Lake Pontchartrain with Anderson and other artists — plagued by mosquitoes, engine trouble, and frayed tempers — would inspire his second novel, “Mosquitoes.” The Quarter also encouraged him to experiment with shape-shifting into character, vanishing into other voices and perspectives. As he later reflected, New Orleans was a place where “imagination takes precedence over fact.”

The results were extraordinary. In just a few short months, Faulkner published 16 stories in The Times-Picayune Sunday Magazine and nearly completed “Soldier’s Pay” in his Pirate’s Alley apartment. These achievements launched his career as a novelist, providing the confidence and momentum that would carry him through the masterpieces of the next decade.

Faulkner’s time in New Orleans was brief, but it became a lifelong touchstone. Later in life, he remembered the city with affection, saying he “had more fun there than I ever had and ever will have again anywhere now.”

As he once wrote in his early sketches, “Here is the substance of a thousand dreams, their beauty broken, trampled, and cast aside. Yet it still clings, the romance of a past that will not pass.”

For the Nobel laureate who would one day bend time itself into fiction, it was New Orleans that first gave him permission to play, to absorb the chaos of modern life, and to transform it into art.

The Pirate’s Alley Faulkner Society will mark the centennial of Faulkner’s New Orleans year with a festival Sept. 25—28, a reminder that the city continues to celebrate the writer it once helped transform.

Joseph S. Makkos is a New Orleans — based archivist, writer and director of Intelligent Archives, a company dedicated to preserving and reimagining historic newspapers. 

I hope to be able to attend the Faulkner festival this year.

My book this week was “The Grand Paloma Resort” by Cleyvis Natera.  This didn’t hold my attention too well – lots of peaks and valleys with the storyline feeling a bit repetitive quite often.  I would recommend skipping it.  Here’s the online summary:

“The Grand Paloma Resort is a lush paradise in the Dominican Republic where the guests enjoy incredible luxury, and the staff is always eager to please—that is, until they are pushed to the brink.

Laura is a local Dominican woman who, through sheer hard work, has risen through the ranks to become manager at the Grand Paloma Resort. Her idea to pair a “platinum” guest with their own resort employee to attend to their every whim has been wildly successful, and she’s just weeks away from a promotion that could blaze a path for her off the resort and toward a life of opportunity. If only her younger sister, Elena—who she’s looked after since the death of their mother—could get with the program.”

I made a start on “Living in the Present with John Prine” by New Orleans resident Tom Piazza, and can tell that I’m going to really enjoy it.

Here’s an online summary:

“A vivid, joyful, moving window onto the life and heart of an American icon.

In the spring of 2018, Tom Piazza climbed into a 1977 Coupe de Ville with the great singer-songwriter John Prine to write an article for the Oxford American. Their Florida road trip ignited a deep friendship, full of tall tales over epic meals, long nights playing guitar and trading songs, and visits back and forth between their homes in Nashville and New Orleans. Along the way, Prine invited Piazza to work with him on a memoir, with John telling sprawling, often hilarious stories of his youth and family in Chicago and Kentucky, his breakthrough into the national spotlight, his riotous early years in the Nashville country scene, and much more. When Prine died suddenly of COVID in April 2020, that unfinished memoir evolved into an intimate and very personal narrative of the artist’s final years. In it, Piazza offers fans an unforgettable portrait of the beloved musician in his late glory―as a boyish cut-up, an epic raconteur, a great American poet, and, most important, a beloved friend.”

A couple of favourite passages so far:

Describing a ride in a massive 1977 Coupe de Ville:

“He gets in behind the wheel; I climb back into the marshmallow-white leather interior next to him, and as the engine starts with a Wagnerian roar a middle-aged guy walking in front of us-startled-gives us a grin and a thumbs up.

“I like giving people a smile when they see this car,” Prine says, happy as a man can be.  “This car brings back dreams.””

On first seeing Prine perform at the Saenger theater in 2016:

“At one point I realized that tears were running down my cheeks.  The lone figure on stage, ravaged by time and circumstance, yet standing there and delivering this painful beauty into the cavernous theater, alone…it occurred to me right then that I might want to write something about him, although I wasn’t sure just what or why.”

It’s been a while since we had anything from the inimitable Billy Preston:

I love the guitar sound on this one:

Another sweet sounding, laid back guitar:

Coexist peacefully, with patience and kindness for all!