Festival. Festival. Festival. (Or, the day I accidentally stalked Davis Rogan for half a day)

 Up up up early early so I can catch a bus and head out to the Tennessee Williams/New Orleans Literary Festival. You know what’s great? Karissa (the organizer) recognized my ability to lead and let me take care of the sales table for a few hours. Then she wanted me to be a site director… which I would have done… if it weren’t for the fact that I really wanted to go to Palm Court for some really amazing panels about New Orleans and Music. And when I reminded her that the panels I wanted to attend were at another location she was fine with it (because we’d talked about it before). 

It was refreshing to hear, “How long do we have you? Which events did you want to attend? Let’s make sure you get there and get to enjoy them!” And every time I turned around someone was thanking me for just being there. 

I liked volunteering for the festival. I was thinking about the Border Book Festival the entire time. But not in a close your eyes and think of England sort of way. Volunteering for TWNOLF was enjoyable and I’m looking forward to working with the organization again. 

Of course, I couldn’t relate to a lot of the workshops, panels and artists. It was a very southern affair. On that count, I miss the southwest. 

I did get to see two panels on New Orleans music in The Palm Court Jazz Cafe

 The first one featuring John Swenson, author of New Atlantis. The book focuses on the return of musical artists and the music scene to NOLA after Katrina. Mr. Swenson knows his shit, and I really want to the book (but it’s a $28 hardback…. So… yeah… that’s going to have to wait). 

Davis Rogan was also there. Yeah, a year ago I would have been all, “Who the fuck is Davis Rogan?” But then Jon introduced me to a little show called Treme. 

So this is Davis Rogan. (It’s a long but hilarious video, the best one I could swipe from YouTube) 

And this is DJ Davis from Treme. 

And all this brings up a very important question that I was faced with in the first week of moving to New Orleans. As a transplant New Orleanian… where do I stand on the show Treme? 

I’m going to go ahead and say it (even if that means I am issued outsider points for it). I fucking like the show. No. Love it. 

Any instance in which a fucking television show manages to call attention to the many injustices issued by local, state and federal government/society in a way that instigates and mobilizes concern from those outside of the situation gets an A fucking Plus in my book. 

And it’s done well. The show creators didn’t import a crap ton of big names with nice tits and rugged chins to portray pathetic caricatures of people who will stop at nothing to get what they want and then get it and everything is happily ever after. No. The characters have to be broken, deconstructed, and wobbily rebuilt… on the promise that things are going to be utterly broken again and again.  

So I fell in love with the show. I could give you a frame by frame of why this show is awesome. The scene where LaDonna freaks out about her rapist being released, while her husband realizes that the woman he loves is trapped because he left her behind? The scene gives me chills. Every. Single. Time. The slow decline of Antoine Batiste's ego-- from fame chasing, 'bone playing DOG to disgruntled music teacher of under-privileged (but not under-talented) middle school musicians? Realistic.

And now that I live here…. I kinda get shit for it sometimes. But loving the show is worth it. In any case, Davis Rogan is the musical adviser for one of the best shows on television. And he’s hilarious. And fucking tall. 

After the panel I had to check out the New Orleans Road Food Festival. I had tamales, pulled pork and a mint julep (with monies raised going to the Tennessee Williams Literary Festival).  

I sit down in some shade and guess who shows up on stage? Davis Rogan is reverse stalking me.

I just saw him play in an air-conditioned bar for the last hour though, so I’m not about to sit in the sun and listen to him again. So it’s off to the New Orleans Healing Center First Annual Sacred Music Festival where I volunteered again—taking tickets and watching the artists entrance. I got to listen to so amazing Buddhist chants. I loved the monks. They were adorable yet potent with language. 

“We make this chant to cut the things that make pain in life. Not with a weapon. But with thoughts.” 

Oh my heart melted. Yes, life is pain and suffering. You can find at least one thing that cuts away at those elements and you are left with a chest full of strength, a heart full of creation and can breathe without burden.

So write. Or play. Or sing. Just find that thing that helps you chisel away the pain.