This time around, we decided to really make efforts to take in whatever live music we could find. In the past, we have focused on sight seeing or eating or what not. Music was our focus this time. At least that's how we started out. What we forgot to factor in is the sheer entertainment factor inherent in a city that is filled with drunk people, miscreants and people like us. We understand that we're entertaining, too.
The music focus served us very well on the first night. In our previous visits to the French Quarter, we have managed to miss out on the world renowned entertainment hosted at Preservation Hall. Preservation Hall is incredibly diminutive from the outside.
I always assumed it was deceiving and housed a roomy, acoustic stage and hall. I was wrong. It was even tinier than I could have imagined on the inside. There was barely room on stage for the instruments. The hall consists of four wooden benches and a few floor pillows. As we walked in, we were welcomed by a friendly cat. "Intimate" would be a great way to describe Preservation Hall.
Many acts have played there, but the venue is home only to one - the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. On Friday night, we arrived in time to get seats for the first set at 8:15 and we stayed until about 10:00. The cost was only $10 per person for all three sets (they played till 11:00). The Jazz Band was outstanding. It was made up of a handful of old timers on sax, clarinet, piano and drums, and one young (comparatively) trumpet player.
They were really a pleasure to listen to. They clearly had a great rapport, and they were open about not rehearsing together, which made their performance all the more entertaining. I can guarantee that we won't miss another opportunity to take in such great jazz.
We finished that night by walking down Bourbon Street and observing the usual debauchery and foolishness. Nothing too interesting to report that evening. We were actually quite disappointed at the lack of crowd, when comparing it to our previous visits. We hadn't been since Katrina, and the city has yet to fully recover, even in the touristy areas.
Our final day was entertaining from start to finish. I mentioned the banter at Clover Grill, which started our day. For the rest of the day, we were just pleased to see a more busy and bustling city full of interesting people carrying on interesting conversations.
In the evening, we headed onto Bourbon Street and enjoyed some great live music at some random Blues Bar, which we can't seem to recall the name of (no indication of our state of mind). Talk about great people-watching. This place was great. The house band was actually great quality. Things got more interesting when they brought out their guest performers. Dr. Blues was a little cheesy.
He was haled with a smattering of indifference (a phrase I stole from David Letterman years ago) upon his exit.
He was followed up with a great performer. The Soul Man or some such.
He knew how to get people on their feet. You can imagine the sights and sounds of a group of intoxicated individuals keeping beat with one another on a small dance floor. Good times.
Our final stop for the evening was Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop. It's another favorite of ours. It has a terrific history and even better atmosphere. The bar is lit almost exclusively by candlelight and has the feel of an authentic 18th century pirate pub. If only the walls could talk. I'd probably have to plug my ears. This was the most entertaining spot of the night. Complete with a crowd of tipsy bridesmaids & bachelorette, who fortunately weren't inappropriate - just inebriated; an angry drunk yelling profanities about politics and religion at his clearly more relaxed, yet uncomfortable, friends. And finally with a visit with the "world famous Windex Pete." He's the one toasting us from across the street, and his bike is the one chained to the most photographed street sign ever. Bourbon.
He said he was a tour guide and Renaissance Man. He had plenty of stories of the famous people he had run into at Lafitte's and around the city. The entire time he chatted with us, clearly after a little generosity of spirit, he kept his eye on his "classic" bike, saying, "You watch that bike, now." Then he told us how it had been stolen just after Katrina, and he ended up running into the fellow later, who easily returned it. Pete is what makes New Orleans what it is. We didn't feel unsafe with Pete. On the contrary, he was more likely to keep us safe and give us a few helpful hints to guide us safely through our night. I'd love to have more time with Pete one day, I'm just not sure we could afford it! On our next trip, I'd be happy to run into the Windex Man and get the next version of his interesting history.
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