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| Howdy friends, I didn't think spending my birthday in New Orleans would be the last time I'd see that city. My friend, Brian, was recording a CD of songs he'd written on the ukelele at Mike West's Ninth Ward home studio. After finishing eahc day's recording session, Brian and I spent nights in the Quarter eating red beans and rice at Coop's on Decatur Street, across from Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville. Mike played three nights a week at Margaritaville's Storyville Tavern, a paying gig considered swank by any New Orleans musician. Brian and I had beinets at the Cafe Du Monde and saw Lynn Drury, another New Orleans musician, play at the Kerry Irish Pub. I'd played the Kerry once and made 20 bucks for a 4-hour gig. That's the way musicians get paid: a percentage of the bar tab. If there's nobody at the bar buying drinks, you're not going to make much that night. From the levy, we watched the fireworks being shot off from dueling barges on the Mississippi River with Mike, his wife, Katie, their two girls, and Terry, the resident handyman. Mike's neighbors had come out with their children to watch. When they found out it was my birthday, they said "We put those [fireworks] up there special for you." After the show, they told me, "We'll do better for you next year!" I hope to God they get the chance because now that levy is gone. Their homes are all flooded up to the rooftops. And most have nothing now, except their lives. I check my email frantically, hoping that some of the people I know left unaccounted for have been found and are ok. Fortunately, most of the friends I know down there were on tour before the storm, so they were out of New Orleans. Except for Terry. Terry lived in Mike West's garage apartment and had apparently stayed with Mike's three dogs when Katrina approached. In the aftermath, there was no word from him. Mike's house sat about a block down from the levee, which broke after the water levels rose high enough to breach it. I assumed he and the dogs had perished. Then I got a call from my parents Thursday night. With frantic, elated voices they told me that Terry was on NBC news. Terry swam for 8 hours through that sludgy, waste-water to the safety of a hotel rooftop. And he'd made it there with all three dogs. It was such a relief to see Terry and downright astonishing to see those dogs, proabably the toughest dogs in the Ninth Ward. Terry explained to a reporter that he'd been passed by people in boats who would not pick him up. Now, he was squatting in a time-share with four other people waiting to be rescued. I wish I could paint a better picture for you all of what New Orleans was like. The songs Mike West wrote about it seem like historical documents now. And they are eerily prophetic: "Take us, Lord, to higher ground/I fear for our lives, I fear we will drown"...."There's nothing much that we can do/but roll up our pants and wade through/no angel gonna rescue you and I." There's no doubt in my mind that New Orleans will come back. You can't have America without New Orleans. Whether it will come back like it was remains to be seen. But if you were ever there, you know the life energy that poured from its streets. The kind of place that were you ever away too long, you really started missing it. And I miss it already. Pray and hope Love David Support these New Orleans musicians: www.mikewest.net www.jeffandvida.com www.mikekerwin.com | ||
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| Just did a session of banjo overdubs for Blake Guthrie's upcoming CD, which will be released this spring. Blake is a wonderful songwriter with great insight and funny twists. Keep a look out for this man. See him every chance you get. | ||
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| Y'all come out to Javamonkey in Decatur on Saturday night for Truckstop Honeymoon from New Orleans. Mike West taught me all I know about pickin' banjo and writing songs. And you'll be blown away by his and Katie's songs. Do yourself a favor and come hear some good live music. | ||
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| Welcome to the online home of Banjolicious. Take your time and look around. Come back anytime you want to hear some good banjo pickin'. | ||
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