August 25, 2008 :: All Hail the Green FairySo, 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:
- 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. But...it's still OK to load equipment in, so come on over!
- Arrive at locked, vacant club. Wait. Chat with locals hanging out on stoop.
- Meet the fantastic Miss Kathy, who is from Blake's hometown, and who, coincidentally, knows everyone Blake knew in elementary school. Weird, but awesome.
- Leave equipment at Kathy's adorable French Quarter apartment. Drive, and park van at hotel.
- 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."
- Eat cheese anyway. Screw Mr. Francis.
- Walk through French Quarter back to club.
- Find ourselves immediately swamped by jazz funeral. Eat memorial red beans and rice
- Go across the street to bar as club fills with rowdy (?!) mourners.
- One hour later, re-enter club to find that rowdy mourners outnumber concert-goers 10 to 1.
- 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.
- Watch Dave Chapelle-esque comedian do interim/band changeover show.
- Watch Dave Chapelle-esque comedian introduce second, abrasive comedian.
- Think, huh. That's interesting.
- 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.
- 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.
- Listen to jokes get longer, louder, and truly offensive, then ponder future of night as hard-core rap group takes stage.
- Look around to realize drummer's wife and I are the only Caucasian people in the room.
- Watch some really interesting dancing.
- Get backed into a corner, surrounded, and begin feeling very uncomfortable.
- Leave club. Watch Blake & Kevin argue with concert promoter who has totally lost control of his venue.
- Agree on performance for next night.
- Shove through undulating, to be honest, scary crowd, to get equipment.
- Deposit equipment at the (again) fantastic Kathy's apartment.
- Find a quiet bar.
- Drink absinthe.
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