You feed the birds (tuppence a bag) and along comes a freeloader. That's how my yesterday went: I was happily doing a good deed for a friend and along came a freeloader to try to up the ante. L'Affaire Freeloader wasted my entire morning.
So it was with a double-glad heart that I took my new Domovoi Shawl out for a spin last night.We went to hear the Preservation Hall jazz band blow the roof off the sucka.
Double-glad was my heart because I grew up the daughter of a traditional New Orleans jazz fan. Each summer, he took us to see the old-timers (Billie and Dee Dee Pierce, Mr. Robinson, Willie Humphrey) who had helped define New Orleans jazz back in its earliest days.
Probably thirty years had passed since I last saw the band. All the old-timers were gone. Those are big and sassy shoes to fill and it's hard to make a living playing traditional jazz.
The band I saw last night, led by trumpeter John Brunious, put on an outstanding show. All the old-time virtuousity still lives and all love of the music, too.