Back in the pre-Katrina days when I was attending the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival regularly, I very seldom attended any of the shows at night in the theaters downtown. The morning involved Cajun Bloody Marys at a bar across from the main gates to the festival, called “Across Da Street” at that time, while we waited for those gates to open. Cajun Bloody Marys at “Across Da Street” were garnished with a pickled okra. That was the smaller part of their appeal.
Then there was an afternoon visiting multiple stages in the middle of that horse track at the fairground. We drank big cans of Foster’s out there in the sun and the rain, Australia’s Classic Lager since 1888. Why Foster’s in New Orleans? Because that is what they sold in big cans out there for some reason.
Anyway, by the time 10:00 at night came, I was usually pretty well fried. In truth I was usually pretty well fried long before that. But for some reason in 2003, I purchased tickets for two back to back shows at the historic Saenger Theater downtown, Moe on the night of May 2 and Gov’t Mule on the night of May 3. Whatever crossed my mind?
I did attend the Moe concert. The woman with whom I was keeping company at the time fell asleep with her head on my lap and slept through the whole thing. If the truth were told, I myself dozed off occasionally. It ended at 2:30 a.m. or something like that. That is not intended as any sort of comment on Moe. An entertaining jam band to say the least.
I am getting to the point now.
There was no way I could answer the bell for the Gov’t Mule concert the next night, I thought. No way. As it turns out, that was an all timer. Some friends of mine did make it. A series of great bassists sat in with the band for a couple of tunes each, one right after another. It was kind of memorial for Gov’t Mule’s original bassist, Allen Woody, formerly of the Allman Brothers Band, and did not end until 4:00 a.m. That concert was recorded and rendered into the classic double album, The Deepest End. I could have rallied and been there had I known what was going on, but I did not know what was going on as usual.
I am listening to that album right now. That is why this has all come into my idle mind.
Here is the point. I kept those two unused tickets to that concert and carefully stored them somewhere—somewhere that I would always remember until I decided what to do with them. For example it might be very cool to mount and frame those tickets. Now I cannot remember where they are, however. I think they are in some book or another.
Perhaps, I will wake up some sunny morning, and it will come to me in a flash. “They are stuffed between pages 84 and 85 of my hardback copy of Tom Sawyer!” For example. That sort of thing has happened quite often for me in the past. Unfortunately, it is happening less and less as time goes by.