Hello everyone. I finally have a little free time to piss away on the diary. Obviously there’s a lot going on. I have been running the two nights of New Orleans Band Hangs every Tuesday and Wednesday, and it’s a different lineup every night. Also working the job washing the glasses and taking out the trash. But I am fed and the bills are paid and there are new tires on the car.

Go SaintsStandard Time has been in effect for a week now and with it comes the old familiar gloomy feeling. Like when you put on the winter coat for the first time. Everyone seems to love the fall (some would say Autumn) but I don’t. All around me I see only Death and Football. Both are inevitabilities, but it is probably the NFL that depresses me the most. It’s a sad and weary spectacle of pure boredom punctuated occasionally with hypercharged pituitary cases flinging themselves about to the tune of that stupid Gary Glitter song. And if Freddie Mercury were alive today to witness the whorish gang-fuck his song has become the soundtrack to, he would never stop throwing up. At least when I had season tickets to the Saints we were all in the front row and didn’t have to watch the game. Just drink enough to forget that it was noon on a Sunday (!!!) and you just paid eight dollars for a slice of cold pizza. Every once in a while Fish would let you know that it was third down and it was time to shriek, then you could go right back to socializing and screaming obscenities at the place-kicker, who had the misfortune of practicing kicking the ball into his little net not ten feet away from us. Chris Rose summed New Orleans up best when he wrote in his column that Katrina could never be the death-knell of a city that has been rooting for the Saints for thirty five years. Well put, my man.

These are Strange Days indeed. I never figured I’d find myself in a band with Rob Wagner, Shatzy and a character named Simon Lott who is a truly Strange Man. The other night at Micky’s Blue room I had brought my acoustic guitar and we were playing a country tune of mine. The solo section came around and now we’re hearing a soprano saxophone. I think that’s pretty messed up, me. In all seriousness it has been an honor to be playing with those guys as well as Martin Krushe, Scott Murchison, Evan Christopher, Brian Coogan, Coco Robicheaux, Dave Easley, Matt Perrine and Washbord Chaz, Glenn Hartman, Benjamin Ellman and the irrepressible James Andrews. The NYC cats have been great too. Dan Green on Dave Dreywitz on bass, Brad Gunyon and Claude Coleman on drums. "This next one’s entitled ‘Ooh Ooh Pah Doo’ (just trust me, dude. It’s in E flat and it’s a blues. I’m gonna count it off…)" Everyone’s just rolling with it including the audiences who have been shaking it properly. And people are still showing up. Cass Faulkner and Brian Seeger came by the other night and might be here for a little bit. I talked to Luke Allen the other night. He was quite drunk and said he needed a gig, a band and some floor space. I hear Lynn Drury might be on her way as well. Strange days indeed…

Hot 8Perhaps the strangest moment of all was the New Orleans contingent of the Halloween Parade. We had the Rebirth and the Hot 8 rolling down Sixth Avenue with some lady buck-jumpers, Henry Griffin running the show and a whole lot of confused New Yorkers holding umbrellas. I’ll never forget the stunned looks on the faces of the spectators behind the police barricades. I don’t think they knew what to make of it. But for me the best moment was seeing the Hot 8 at a place called Bait and Tackle in Red Hook. They were an hour late and I heard that someone asked, "how long does it take for them to set up?" The dropping of the jaws was about what you would expect when they finally hit the stand. I’ll come right out and say it—I had to fight back the tears when I saw a newly fattened-up Keith "Wolf" Anderson take his first solo of the night. I’m getting kind of emotional even as I write this. On the break we got to swap war stories and generally shoot the shit and you would swear we were all You Know Where. And now we all know there is a There there. And while we are all here and there, the There is Everywhere. And I believe in my soul that the situation will be excellent, me.

Yeah U Rite

Yeah you right.