I’m not in my 20’s anymore so I require a lot more recovery time. I think it’s safe to say for every hour of debauchery, I need an hour of rehab. But the good thing about my group of friends is that they can rally for anything, at anytime, and whoever is along is expected to keep up. I like being pushed to be better.
Surprise fave tent Sunday: Fais Do Do. Amazing zydeco, which makes me so happy I jump up and down and dance in dizzying circles almost nonstop. It’s all nonsensical movement, really. Iron & Wine came on after that, so I was able to chill and bring my pulse down to my normal resting heart rate of 32.
We also saw Cowboy Mouth, who I’ve never seen live before. High five for those guys. The red spoon song? Loved. People were a bit cray at this show. At one point, Eric went up to talk to a guy who was dancing like a maniac, and they got so animated during their discussion/dance off that he accidentally slapped the guy in the face. And he didn’t even care! That’s the spirit.
The Boss was closing that night, and we had some tricks up our sleeves. And by “we” I mean me. I wanted to avoid the debacle that was Petty the evening before, so I suggested we go around from the back this time, that way we would be on the outskirts and avoid the clusterf*ck in the middle, but still be directly in front of the stage so we could see Bruce’s face on the big screen.
After the concert we start the trek back to the hotel for my car. We’re walking along a busy street and an unmarked black SUV pulls up and the man asks if “I can give you ladies a ride somewhere. That’s my store – back there.” And points to a store behind us to validate his point. The actual owner of a store! I was practically opening his door but the others were hesitant to get into the car with a stranger and wouldn’t let me go with him. I sighed long and loud and kept walking.
We stop off at Ernst Café to grab some dinner before the long drive home.
I know! But before you start making plans to boycott the place, read more about it here.
And then 2 things happened: this obscure, unassuming little restaurant actually had fantastic NOLA food AND we ate dinner right next to Gary Clark, Jr. and his entourage. Sure did, folks. We all chatted a bit and made some jokes, but they didn’t invite us to be groupies so I consider the entire scenario a fail.
This entry was posted in Concerts, Festivals, New Orleans, Travel and tagged bruce springsteen, cowboy mouth, iron and wine, Jazzfest, New Orleans, NOLA, the boss. Bookmark the permalink.