Woikin’ the Quarter, Hunter S. at the Josephine, Missed TV Op: JazzFest ’11, The Last Daze Between

Posted: May 4th, 2011 | Filed under: Community, Culture | No Comments »

No matter how many times you’ve visited New Orleans, and no matter your purpose in being here — hopefully it has some nefarious end — you gotta putz around the Quarter.

Another stroll down Pirate Alley, trying to conjure the image of the privateering Lafitte Bros. cutting the deal with Old Hickory to hold off the Brits, never hurts.

So I’m all Vieux Carré all day.

Ate lunch at classic old school Tujaques on Decateur with my pal Winston and fifty or so of his close and personal acquaintances. Seems there’s this regular gathering of old interwoven friends, the whole deal fostered by photographer Louie Sahuc.They close the joint for this crowd.

Winston calls Sahuc, the “mayah of the qwahtuh.”

Interesting group. Guys. Gals. Architects. Professionals. New Orleanians to the core. Plus assorted wannabe hangers on like myself.

Lots of stories. Like the one Louie tells of the time his pal Tim Mooney, who is sitting across the table, brings fabled Louisville ex-pat Dr. Hunter S. Thompson Jr. RIP to the Crescent City.

The Mayah takes HST to the Josephine, a guest house, owned by my pal Winston. It was run by Dan Fuselier, a classic Cajun come to New Orleans character and his equally hard charging gal, Mary Ann. The Fuseliers have been noted for decades for their ability to party and penchant therefore. The term iron constitution comes to mind.

The Mayah leaves HST in the Fuseliers hands, and takes his leave. He gets a call the next day from Dan, who has never been known to say “no mas.”

Dan: “Now that guy is really crazy.”

* * * * *

By the by, the lunch is the same every Wednesday between JazzFest weekends. Vegetable soup with a hunk of brisket in the middle of the bowl. And pea inserted mashed potatoes to dollop in. Iced tea.

You can almost see Diamond Jim Moran sitting in the corner.

* * * * *

Royal Street is filled with buskers by the block.

“Jazz Vocalist & Romantic Balladeer” Ras Chemash Lamed has a voice so smooth, he could teach Mel Torme about velvet.

Down the street, a pudgy white kid is playing the blues like Robert Johnson.

* * * * *

Walking by Cafe Du Monde about ten minutes too late, I miss my chance to be in a scene from an upcoming episode of “Treme.” They’ve just finished filling the tables with extras.

* * * * *

Would love to chat more, but I’m heading over to check out Mayah Sahuc’s photos at his gallery. It’s in the Pontalba, where he also lives. That’s the edifice along Jackson Square, which happens to be the oldest apartment building in the United States.

---