Jazzfest

Another weekend of music and sweating amidst masses of human beings in the sun. My mom came out to New Orleans for the Jazz and Heritage Festival last weekend, which was actually the second weekend of the festival. The first weekend, for some reason, had most of the major acts (Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews, Elvis Costello, Herbie Hancock, Dr. John), but I was in California, so oh well. Our weekend had some big acts (Keith Urban, Lionel Ritchie, Jimmy Buffet, The Radiators, Irma Thomas), but Fats Domino was too sick to perform.

Overall, though, it was a great time. Three days of festival-going is a little much, even for this die-hard music fan. I started to get claustrophobic towards the end, and didn't want to wait in the long lines for food.

Anyway, my mom and her friend Patti stayed at a hotel in the French Quarter where they could walk to the galleries and cafes and soak in the architecture. We took a bus to the festival every afternoon, where we wandered around from stage to stage and food booth to food booth. I saw jazz, gospel, rock, folk, zydeco, pop, country, soul, and even a Native American pow-wow. The food was utterly amazing, with flavors so unique and rich that you can't get them anywhere else in the country. Crawfish this, gumbo that, shrimp something, etouffe, roumelade, catfish, artichoke, cream, yum yum yum. Making me hungry all over again...

I ran into some of my Peace Corps friends that I worked with in the fall, and I hung out with them for a little while, and saw some of my PDA friends who had come over from Mississippi. The only time it rained, I saw the black clouds on their way to the fairground before they arrived, and I pulled my mom and Patti into the Gospel tent. I've been really getting into Gospel on the long drives from Mississippi to Louisiana - it's impossible not to move at least one part of your body while you're listening to it. So we were in the Gospel tent and I was clapping, rocking, shaking my head, dancing, smiling, totally into it, and it just dumped down rain outside on the rest of the festival-goers for a full half hour. We stayed dry (although it was mighty humid inside the tent!), so we were joking that Jesus sheltered us from the storm!

Me and my 6 PDA friends took out my mom and Patti in the French Quarter, and my mom was sipping on those tasty tropical drinks getting hammered. So so so funny! I babysat her as we walked amidst the crowds on Bourbon Street, then I bought more drinks for everyone: "hand grenades", which come in long green plastic tubes with a hand grenade shape at the bottom. I have no idea what kind of alcohol was in them, but we were all pretty happy by the end of the evening. I think I even got pulled on stage with a fiddle player to play the washboard.

Next year I'm only doing 2 days of the festival, and I'm going VIP, so I can get a seat in the bleachers and not have to sit in the mud :(