Overcast and windy, very likely threatening rain, Wednesday was not exactly promising for a late afternoon outdoor concert. However, it was going to be Big Sam & the Funky Nation, so it was appropriate to brave the elements. Luckily, the cloudy sky and friendly breeze lowered the temperature and made it very comfortable -- not sweltering like it will be later (for example, for Marcia Ball later in the season).
Big Man and I enjoyed dinner at home (our favorite post-Easter dinner of hard-boiled egg curry) and then parked the car at a lot on Magazine, walking through the pedestrian mall between the federal courthouse and the federal building to the square. I can never be in that neighborhood without remembering that where the Hale Boggs Federal Building now stands was where my father's Steelworkers' Union office used to be (interestingly enough, it was also where Lee Harvey Oswald's "Fair Play for Cuba" office was back in the day), and that our family used to spend Mardi Gras Day in Lafayette Square, with 2 long aluminum folding picnic tables set up together, laden with food, and lined with folding aluminum lawn chairs. Those few blocks are filled with memories for me.
Lafayette Square was pretty crowded, but not as packed as it had been for Trombone Shorty a few weeks ago. As always, the dress code was extremely diverse: law firm denizens in conservative business suits, menfolk in the New Orleans "uptown uniform" of Haspel seersucker and white buck shoes, long and short sundresses on the young women, lots of Jazz Fest shirts and T-shirts, bikers, old folks in their comfy clothes, little kids, lots of dogs, and one giant colorful parrot on this guy's shoulder.
We spotted one tall Creole-looking woman with long brunette hair in tight white jeans and a midriff-baring white embroidered top; we were admiring her when we realized we were practically ogling our friend Anaîs St. John. We called to her, and she walked over quickly, gathering glances and stares the whole way. She hugged us both and complimented me on my recent haircut. "So becoming," she cooed and I preened.
Big Man and Anaîs talked music for a while and compared notes on the New Orleans music biz and their upcoming gigs for the French Quarter Festival this weekend. Unfortunately, Anaîs's set on Saturday afternoon is too close to the ordination ceremony I am obligated to go to, so I told her I'd have to miss it. She waved her hand at me, tant pis ("no matter"). She told us her husband and toddler daughter were over near the food booths, but as we had already eaten, we weren't going that way. We wrapped up our conversation (the cynosure of all eyes the whole time!), kissed again, and parted.
Big Sam and his group the Funky Nation took the stage -- you can't mistake that loud beat-insistent sound! But as we approached the stage, something was very different. It didn't at first look like Big Sam was onstage, even though there was a guy waving a 'bone around. He was much too thin to be Big Sam. But as we got closer to the stage, we could see it was indeed Big Sam, "big" no longer -- he was positively slender! Full of energy and good spirits, he skipped, danced, ran, jumped, and moonwalked the stage; Big Man said maybe all this stage energy had helped him to lose the weight. But whether the hijinks were the *cause* or the *result* of the weight loss, it was still quite impressive. He looked GOOD, y'all. (Whatever you did or are doing, Sam, you just keep it up now.)
Songs bled into one another with interesting musical linkages. Each of the musicians on the stage were given ample opportunity to shine in solos, sometimes with Sam and his trumpet player often coming over to highlight the player and tease him with their mimicry and stage antics. Favorites for me were the classics "Liza Jane" and "Sissy Strut" (that song always did need horns!) and Sam's own "Ba-dooey-dooey."
We left earlier than we wanted to due to Big Man having to make his regular Bourbon Street gig, but we had a good time nonetheless. Props to Big Sam for getting so healthy, and for putting on a great show!
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