thoughts, New Orleans and all that

One of the problems cited with the news as it exists these days is that contrary to what is normally presented we are not overwhelmed by a blizzard of stories – what happens is that we get one story over and over and over again – until something else pops up and we get that.

Currently – it’s Dave Letterman – no not really but you could be excused for thinking that.

The other difficulty with modern communications is that while electrons move at the speed of light – human events move at their own pace and while the networks might want news now – things will take their own damn time.

At that is the last I’m going to say about Iran right at the moment. We’re doing the right thing keeping out of it.

Got back recently from New Orleans- it was a bachelor party I won’t mention names but it wasn’t anybody in the band.

First of all it was hot and humid – 90 degrees in the day time - and I just poured sweat – next time I go I’ll have to bring about 3 t-shirts per day.

Didn’t get to as many restaurants as I wanted to – we had a large group of people and unless there you’re in a tour group – things end up with you having long discussions in the middle of Bourbon Street that go on and on and on

“How about this?”
“Well I don’t know”
“what’s wrong with it.?”
“I’m just not thrilled.”
“Well where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know where to you want to go?”

For the rest of the dialogue please see the film or televideo of Marty.

Our ability to make decisions was not helped by folks wandering over to one of the many bars and shops and purchasing some form of booze and then wandering back to the group. After a few moments of this the group had the total brain power of a Labrador with ADD.

One thing they all agreed upon was a visit to a strip club – Bourbon Street is full of them - hell it’s Disneyland for perverts – with world class restaurants right near by on the street itself. Its part of what New Orleans is.

So we went to a strip club – I wasn’t that thrilled with the idea – up till then I had lived a long and happy life without going to a strip club and had no real desire to change that but – party on Wayne was the motto.

I was told some time ago that there are strip club guys and there are non-strip club guys – well put me firmly in the non-strip club guy category. After about 20 minutes I realized 1) I was very uncomfortable 2) I was very very bored and 3) there are only so many things you can do with a pole.

The whole thing seemed like crude cheese to lure crude mice to spend there money.

As I said not for me. The rest of the party was having a fine old time however.

At various points during the event one of the girls would walk up and start talking to me - this was a way of trying to encourage someone to pay for a lap dance or some such It took a great deal of effort not to say something hideously rude or just wrong:

“So hon would you like a lap dance.”
“Sorry, since the Accident I haven’t been a complete man.”

And while nothing lasts for ever – but lord did this seem like it.

Anyway my best memory of the city came one night as I was separated from the group – we were to meet later – there was a courtyard off of Bourbon Street with statues of Al Hurt, Fats Domino and others – there was a little band playing there just a guy with a banjo and one guy vocals/trumpet. He did a couple of songs and then launched into “Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?”

In the album Sketches of Spain – Miles Davis’s trumpet playing is described in the gypsy mode or that of a “heart Pierced by sorrow.” Well on that night – Miles had nothing on this guy – he played his horn and in that sound there was mourning for the loss, a celebration of what it had been and a hope for what could still be- I had tears in my eyes when he was done.

It was the moment I ‘got’ New Orleans.

Peace, Love. Jazz.