Somebody went to New Orleans and all I got was this lousy t-shirt

My next post was going to be about all the road construction going on in New Orleans, but before I could do that, I was over on the Yellow Blog where I discovered that things are heating up over at the French Market. Comments made by the new director, Jon Smith, have angered some French Market vendors. The vendors were already ticked off by changes made in Market rules in 2012 and they filed a lawsuit which is still pending. This article just gives more proof to how screwed up things really are at the French Market.

One sentence made me take pause: "T-shirts also are prohibited, but a number of vendors who sold them before the ban went into effect were grandfathered in." Before Katrina, many, myself included, was lamenting over the proliferation of tacky, tourist t-shirt shops in the Quarter. These stores would cram dozens of t-shirts, usually with crude sayings on them (like these), in the doorway, all the while blasting music, sometimes Cajun, sometimes not. It was really getting out of control. Since Katrina, there's been a new explosion of t-shirt shops by local companies whose New Orleans themed t-shirts are geared to locals and tourist in the know. Stores like Fleurty Girl, Dirty Coast and Storyville to name a few. T-shirts are a hot commodity so it's surprising the Market would ban them.

Tacky t-shirts are no longer the only thing that scream tourist. What are the (tourist) symbols of New Orleans? Crawfish, something playing the saxophone and beads. Beads are no longer contained to Mardi Gras. The tacky t-shirt shops also sell beads, beads, beads. Feather boas are big too. The hot trend in conferences is in addition to your big old name badge and printed bag is a fake second line. There have been several times I've been down river when a brass band comes by with a handful of people decked out in beads and feather boas stumbling down the street behind them throwing beads. Like this company says on their web site: "We go beyond shutting down Canal Street for your own “second line” parade, bringing in voodoo priestesses to conjure your future and teaching you the Cajun two-step." Under Services one of the "Program Enhancements" they offer is a Jazz Funeral. Good grief.

Happy Jazz Fest 2013!

Locals usually pick their Jazz Fest days based on the out of town headliners. Unless you are one of those who go every day. Yes there are folks who go all 7 days. Usually they buy a brass pass which allows to enter and leave as you please. Regular tickets holder can’t do that.

We went the Sunday of the first weekend. Not to see anyone in particular but it was nice because I don’t normally go on Sundays. There’s usually someone I really want to see on the Saturdays, the biggest days the largest crowds. So Sundays are more chill. It stormed Sunday morning which also kept a lot of people away. It had stopped raining when we went but we had ponchos and zip lock bags just in case. Which turned out to be a smart move because it started raining hard again around 3:00. But a “bad” day at JazzFest is better than a good day at work.

When it rains at JazzFest it get really muddy. And stinky. It is a racing track for horse. Do not wear flip flops. You will fall on your ass or lose them in the muck. If you want to keep your feet dry and clean, rain boots or shrimp boots are the way to go. If you like squishing your toes in mud, go bare foot or wear something like Teevas you strap to your feet.

Music for May 28, 2013
Big Sam’s Funky Nation, Ed Volker, Calexio, Kermit Ruffins and the BBQ swingers, Honey Island Swamp Band, Gispy Kings and Treme Brass Band tribute to Uncle Lionel.

Food eaten (very important!): Cochon de lait po boy. Crawfish sack, crawfish beignets and crawfish bread.

I love April in New Orleans. The weather, while very unpredictable, can be spectacular. Today, after several stormy days this week, is gorgeous. I remembered to put on sunscreen (unlike Mardi Gras) and put on a floppy hat. After voting and walking to Harry's Ace for a few things, we stopped by Cafe Atchafalaya for a crawfish boil. Lordy be, this was some of the best crawfish I've had in a while. Very flavorful, hot and spicy. They had a trio playing tunes while we stood outside, sucking heads, pinching tails, drinking beer and chatting with neighbors from the 'hood.

After our fill, we headed over to the Freret Street Festival. It's a shame I was so full of crawfish because there was some good smelling food there. It was very crowded. I was looking for a jewelry maker who is usually at the Freret Market. It took us our third time down the street for me to see her. I bought her shotgun house necklace. Love it!

(P.S. I can't remember if I said this before but a friend of ours bought Cafe Atchafalaya back in January and has changed up some things for the better. Open on Mondays. Check it out!)

The rain is really coming down over by us and I'm hearing some thunder. I hope for those at JazzFest today it's clear skies for them but I doubt it. G and I went yesterday and had a grand time. The clouds kept the temps down and there was usually a breeze. We got lightly sprinkled on later in the day but during the last set, the sun was shining. We floated most of the day, catching a little bit of this and little bit of that. And of course eating. The lines for Cochon de Lait were outrageous, so we're saving that for another day. The crawfish sausage po-boy was yummy as was the alligator meat pie. The crawfish meat pie was disappointing -not enuff filling. Crawfish beignets and sacks were delish as always. Beer snobs may have already figured this out but the beer stand over by the Contemporary Arts has Pilsner Urquell on tap. Don't be throw off by the cries of "Miller heraw!"

We are going again Sunday. This time I have serious, pure plastic ponchos for us if it rains. The second Friday last year was miserable because of the deluge - though now the port-o-let story is funny - I have never been so wet in all my life; wetter than soaking in a tub for 2 hours. Hmmm... reviewing last year's JazzFest entry I neglected to tell the whole port-o-let story, so here it is: G needed to use the 'let so we found some with out a line (because everyone was crammed into the tents). I waited for him when it started raining again and raining hard. I jumped into an empty 'let next to the one G was in. It was loud in there with the rain pounding down on the roof. I tired yelling to Greg that I wanted to go home but he couldn't hear me. Thank goodness for cell phones. I rang him up and he agreed that enuff was enuff. Reviewing last year's post I just want to point out that parking at Cabrini has gone up to $30 this year. Thank goodness for our parking spot at our friends' house. When we got back to our car our friends had just returned as well and invited in for a beer. We sat on their porch overlooking Bayou St. John, sipping beer, chatting, watching the traffic and the sun set. Days like this is why us crazy folk continue to live in NOLA. I had a voice message from a friend who called me as she was on her way to Cancun. I texted her back "sorry I missed your call... when you called, I was at Jazzfest, drinking a beer, watching Sheryl Crow." She texted back "I want to be you!"

Even though I've lived here since '92 I didn't realize that Easter weekend was THE weekend for crawfish. The Mad Irishman text messaged G and I that he was buying and to meet at the Rendezvous (our usual Friday hangout). When we got there, he had a table covered in newsprint and two paper bags full of crawfish, potatoes, garlic and corn. We chowed down, washing the spicey goodness down with cold beer. What a wonderful way to end the week.