August 25, 2008 :: All Hail the Green Fairy

So, the last thing I said (a million years or so ago) was something about absinthe, right? Ah yes. Considering I drank the gorgeous elixer above moments after I snapped this picture, I'm a bit surprised I remember.

Ok, enough romanticization of alcohol. The green stuff up there is fascinating, and caustic, and knocked me out like a handful of Benadryl. It was a welcome effect, as our first night in New Orleans went something like this:
  1. Enter Orleans Parish sweaty and tired, check-engine light on the Van blaring. Call club. Find out that club's owner's wife had just passed away.'s still OK to load equipment in, so come on over!
  2. Arrive at locked, vacant club. Wait. Chat with locals hanging out on stoop.
  3. Meet the fantastic Miss Kathy, who is from Blake's hometown, and who, coincidentally, knows everyone Blake knew in elementary school. Weird, but awesome.
  4. Leave equipment at Kathy's adorable French Quarter apartment. Drive, and park van at hotel.
  5. Bask in the glory that is our clean hotel room. It comes with fruit! And Cheese! And sparklinkg water! And a note for "Mr. Eric Francis."
  6. Eat cheese anyway. Screw Mr. Francis.
  7. Walk through French Quarter back to club.
  8. Find ourselves immediately swamped by jazz funeral. Eat memorial red beans and rice
  9. Go across the street to bar as club fills with rowdy (?!) mourners.
  10. One hour later, re-enter club to find that rowdy mourners outnumber concert-goers 10 to 1.
  11. Watch truly awful, tone-deaf singer woman embarrass talented (and very nice) studio musicians by wailing like a wounded dog in front of them, on-stage. Sing correct notes and harmonies very loudly, laughing hysterically.
  12. Watch Dave Chapelle-esque comedian do interim/band changeover show.
  13. Watch Dave Chapelle-esque comedian introduce second, abrasive comedian.
  14. Think, huh. That's interesting.
  15. Listen to second, abrasive, apparently racist comedian call Blake a "picnic-shirt wearin', Opie-lookin' mother f**ker" on stage, into the microphone, as Blake attempts to set up his gear.
  16. Watch as Blake swallows hard and holds his Southern-boy tongue. Breathe sigh of relief that I will not need to mount stage and break up fight.
  17. Listen to jokes get longer, louder, and truly offensive, then ponder future of night as hard-core rap group takes stage.
  18. Look around to realize drummer's wife and I are the only Caucasian people in the room.
  19. Watch some really interesting dancing.
  20. Get backed into a corner, surrounded, and begin feeling very uncomfortable.
  21. Leave club. Watch Blake & Kevin argue with concert promoter who has totally lost control of his venue.
  22. Agree on performance for next night.
  23. Shove through undulating, to be honest, scary crowd, to get equipment.
  24. Deposit equipment at the (again) fantastic Kathy's apartment.
  25. Find a quiet bar.
  26. Drink absinthe.
More later.

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