The Beach Boys and why we go to Jazz Fest. Day One 2012

First day of Jazz Festival!!!!!!!!!! I didn't have clear ideas of what I wanted to see today, except Bon Iver. I wanted to see Emily's favorite band, because she loves Bon Iver and I wanted to see Bon Iver, because when he accepted his Grammy for best new artist 2012, he said stuff I would say if I ever got an award for anything.

"It's really hard to accept this award ....because when I started to make songs I did it for the inherent reward of making songs....."

Love him, if for no other reason than that.

Meanwhile, he and his band are outstanding. Love the horns and the haunting voice and the lyrics. Love the demographics of his followers.

And I ran over and caught a little of BeauSoleil and saw some Cajun dancing that is oh, so happy.

I also caught a little world music from Egypt at Congo Stage. Those little dancer girls up there were hot and could shake their little boots. And he took off his shirt and played sax. Carumba!

 I caught a tiny bit of Steel Pulse and many whiffs of ganja. Not intentionally. But it's hard not to sniff ganja when you're around Steel Pulse.

But then I was surprised to find out where I spent the bulk of my day. This is besides the medic tent

and getting ice at various venues for my hand which got slammed in a car door and I had to raise it above my heart encased in a dripping Ziploc, bandana-wrapped bag, but managed to survive, thank you. Jam damn. It's OK, Susie, you didn't mean to. Like Kim said, never shoulda opened that parasol inside.

Where I spent the bulk of my day was with the Beach Boys. Huh? With Irma Thomas doing Mahalia Jackson around the corner?

I had seen them before, at LSU of all places. I did a review of them for the college newspaper 30 years ago!!! And they were tired and worn-out then. Imagine now.

Well, there's something about the Jazz Festival.

Even aging musicians come alive when they're performing in New Orleans before a crowd of discerning -- and not always so discerning, but really happy -- audience members.

I was stunned to find such happiness, such smiles, and all ages.

 EVERYBODY was singing along!

And EVERYBODY WAS HAPPY!!!! THIS, THIS!!!!! is why we go to Jazz Festival!!!!!!!!!

Day 2 Jazz Festival and My Own Little Room

I'm pooped and Jazz Festival hasn't even started. It's work, man, being here, I tell ya'. So many decisions. Do I wear a skirt or a sundress today?  Eat gumbo or crawfish? Listen to the Rebirth Brass Band or Trombone Shorty? Yeah, so cry me a Mississippi River. But you know the saying how you have to take a vacation from your vacation.

 Today I spent an hour unpacking all my bling and outfits, lining up stacks of shirts and skirts and dresses that I will fling all over the room every day as I get dressed for JF. I went to the Super Dome and bought tix, then to lunch near Susan's office, then visited Susan's office on Canal Street, then walked for two miles in and out of galleries while I waited for Susan and took 353 photos all over the Quarter, including the (2012 Grammy for best regional roots album) Rebirth Brass Band and entourage; the Daisy Divas; Tanya and Dorise, amazing classical with wild flair duo (watch for them) http://tanyandorise.com/. I worked out with Susan,

helped make dinner and tried to 

take night pictures of Charles' fish in his tank in the shed, 

which did not work because they are nocturnal and every time we tried to put a light on them, they hid in their hollow log home. So you know, tomorrow is Jazz Festival. It's time I finish this blog and love this little room that is also part of the New Orleans scene for me. So thankful that it's mine for  14 days a year.

Tanya, of Tanya and Dorise

"In my own little corner, in my own little room, I can be whatever I want to be" -- Cinderella.

Arrival New Orleans Jazz Festival 2012. Let's do this thing.

Arrived 4 p.m. Wednesday April 25.
Weather: Perfect. Blue skies. Crazy breezes. No humidity.
Sat outside the airport on my suitcase and tried to have a forever moment while waiting for Susan.

Felt the breezes.
Heard the traffic.
Smelled the traffic.
Saw dappled sun, girl in hot pink shorts, girl in long dress.
Felt relief, peace and happiness that I was here.
~
Susan picked me up and we picked up where we left off. Laughed til we almost peed. Went to a Turkish restaurant and wondered what was wrong with people. Drank tea. Ate salmon. Shopped for food we swear we're gonna cook, but probably won't. Sneaked dark chocolate malted milk balls out of bulk bins. And then home to my room inside the house where Mama lived and burned.  I love the little room upstairs that Susan renovated in her oh so signature style, that I get to live in for 14 days, while I'm not partying, eating, driving around taking pictures and listening to music. It is my haven for these 14 days, a respite from the weary world, which has been especially weary of late. Take that, Dr. Ninnyhammer Nutbag at the Cleveland Clinic, which is another story for another blog. Meanwhile, we finished the night by watching really stupid YouTubes and looking through pictures of Mama and the family when we were young-er. Hundreds of pictures. Hundreds, I tell you. I didn't steal a one, Susan. I promise. I drank wine and stumbled up the steep stairs to my room. Today is a brand new day, and I cannot wait to see what I see. Love this city. Love my sister. Love Jazz Festival. Yes.

My home away from home.