The Monday After The First Saturday In May

Posted: May 8th, 2017 | Filed under: Culture, Ruminations, Today's Lesson Learned | 1 Comment »

Some days are traditionally and annually more difficult than others.

Perspective: I used to get really depressed at halftime of the Orange Bowl, when it was always played on New Year’s night. For decades I’d always had the last week of the year off, and it would hit me hard that the next morning’s wake up meant: Back To Real Life.

So has become the Monday after the First Saturday in May.

Even on a sunny, crisp day like today, when I’m blessed with few responsibilities.

There’s the fact that Derby is over. I don’t go to the track. Or the parade. Or the boat race. Or even to hear Drive By Truckers, though I was well intentioned to do so. But I love the energy around town, and know it is the most glorious time of the year for many in our burg.

We even had the sun shine through late Derby afternoon. Thanks to the spirit specters of Matt Winn and Irvin S. Cobb. Which beauteous weather lasted through Sunday for the brunchers and party hearty crowd that was still full tilt one more day.

And, for others like me, this Monday marks the end of my year’s gravtitational pull, the New Orleans JazzFest. I only went first weekend, ceding to the inevitable Old Folks Boogie, from which I naturally suffer thanks to the ever accelerating “maturation process.” Even though I wasn’t present in New Orleans this weekend as I was last, I still kept watching the clock, finally finding some relief at 8:00 Sunday, when I knew the last notes had been played, that the bon temps roulez had expired.

Thus, we come to today, in the Printemps of some disconsolation.

It really matters not that it’s glorious outside, that honeysuckle aromisizes the air, that the warmth and recreation of summer is just ahead. Today there is the let down that comes about when too much anticipation is focused on a singular event, and it passes.

Fortunately it is fleeting, not terminal.

(I am reminded of 1976. That was the year of my first JazzFest. I went down for a weekend. Then called work and advised I was slipping off to the beach for a week. Then called again and advised I’d be staying for the second weekend of JazzFest. Then returned for Derby week. All of which was fueled — in copious quantities — by the inebriants of the day. Even attended a big bash on the Sunday after Derby. Dealing with that Monday let down turned out not to be a problem. I went to sleep Sunday evening. Didn’t wake up until Tuesday morning.) Read the rest of this entry »


JazzFest ’17, Day II: Enchanting Peripherals

Posted: April 30th, 2017 | Filed under: Ruminations | 1 Comment »

There are times when the music plays a lesser — but still significant — role in the fest’s charms du jour.

Saturday was one of those interesting days, full of interactive interludes.

Not that there wasn’t, mind you, some righteous tuneage, which I’ll get to soon enough. But yesterday for me was more about the gathering of the tribes, cementing expanding friendships and glorying in the spirit forces the event fosters.

I hooked up with M and S and their krewe, who were camped at Congo Square, in anticipation of Usher with the Roots Band who’d close out the day at that stage. (Full names omitted to protect the arguably innocent.)

The Film Babe — who by the by couldn’t make the trip this year, but is confirmed already for next — and I met M & S four years ago as we were all strolling down Royal on the way to the Louisiana Music Factory. Kindred spirits from Connecticut and Kentucky, we connected and we’ve kept in touch.

(The couple missed last year’s fest, while visiting Barcelona, where their kid was studying. Even though in another of the world’s great and unique cities, M advised, “We made it through missing JazzFest, knowing we’d be back this year.”)

At one point during yesterday’s charming interlude of connection, Ms. S stopped dancing, turned to us and declared, “I need a Cochon du Lait Po Boy RIGHT NOW!” And was immediately off for sustenance.

While chatting them up yesterday, just as I was learning that M isn’t a lawyer — my misconception — a small group walked up that they’d met the evening before at a North Mississippi All Stars gig.

Turns out these folks were fellow Hebrews and of Iraqi descent. The fellow is a lawyer, of some note obviously since he just testified in front of Al Franken’s Senate committee on the environment. (And wouldn’t the guy who created Stuart Smiley be great to run into down here?)

Anyway, for some reason I simply can’t recall, the woman started regaling me with the history of how the Jews were the ones who carried on the folk musical traditions of Iraq. But were pushed out of the country in the 40s in the wake of the establishment of the state of Israel.

But when the royals realized that music was important and nobody was around to carry the tradition, they brought back numbers of Jewish folks to teach the songs at the Palace.

I mean really, who knew?

And what are the chances of getting into this conversation anywhere but JF, while while doing the rock & roll shuffle to Corey Henry’s Treme Funket? Read the rest of this entry »


JazzFest ’17: Let’s Get the Real Party Started

Posted: April 28th, 2017 | Filed under: Culture, Music, Ruminations | No Comments »

One last check in from the periphery. When I finish this I’m off to Day I.

But first I need to forgive.

Some folks, even if wearing garb proving their attendance at previous fests, don’t know what they don’t know.

I was on my way back to the hotel which is at the foot of Iberville from a hook up at the Louisiana Music Factory during the Jazz Vipers set.

LMF’s on Frenchmen Street at the other end of the Quarter. So I stopped at this little courtyard in the French Market by the Gazebo Café to rest my yelping dogs. (To bore you with woes about how my new walking shoes aren’t all they are cracked up to be would be over self indulgent even for a narcissist like myself.)

Anyway, the earnest but not really not very good band of old farts regaling the turistas with New Orleans standards broke into “Southern Nights.” One of my favorite tunes.

The guy sitting next to me on the bench turned to his wife/ GF/ inamorata for the weekend and pontificated too impress, “Wow, they’re playing that old Glen Campbell classic.” Read the rest of this entry »


Film Review Podcast: “LEGO Batman”

Posted: February 16th, 2017 | Filed under: Ruminations | No Comments »

LEGOs weren’t around when I was a kid. Heck plastic this and plastic that wasn’t around at all.

I led an Erector Set/ Lincoln Logs/ Lionel Train kind of adolescence.

But, at some point, LEGOs took over the world of youth toydom.

And, recently, these ubiquitous plastic thingies, some of which always end up between the pillows of the couch, have made inroads into Big Cinema.

First, “The Lego Movie.” Or, whatever it was called.

Now, “The LEGO Batman Movie.”

Talk about your branding coup. Wow.

Anyhow, here’s my review. Such as it is.

Audio MP3

A Short Tribute to James Bickers

Posted: September 30th, 2016 | Filed under: Personalities, Ruminations | Tags: | 7 Comments »

bickMy long time radio host and on air adversary James Bickers has passed away.

He was a friend.

He was a good guy.

He was a loving husband.

He was a loving father.

He was beloved by his adoring listening audience.

A short remembrance and tribute:

Audio MP3

Review Podcast: “The Night Of”

Posted: September 2nd, 2016 | Filed under: Film Reviews Podcast, Ruminations, TV | No Comments »

nightindexI have written about it a couple of times previously, but feel compelled to share — or reiterate — some final thoughts on this compelling HBO mini series.

It’s ostensibly about a college student charged with murdering a woman whom he meets by chance, but it really has much more depth and is not a run of the mill whodunit.

The uniformly excellent portrayals carry along a compelling storyline. Riz Ahmed. John Turturro. Amara Karan. Jeannie Berlin. Michael K. Williams. They are all marvelous here.

I was addicted.

Listen further for reasons why you might want to check it out, if you weren’t watching during its summer Sunday night run.

Audio MP3

The Spyglass Chronicles: 9/01

Posted: September 1st, 2016 | Filed under: Cinema, Culture, Music, Ruminations | 2 Comments »

chron“The Night Of” HBO. For many viewers the denouement of this addictive mini-series was as dissatisfying as that moment from yesteryear as the screen went black with Tony Soprano and his family sitting in the diner, with some mysterious dude lurking near the Men’s Room door.

Because Naz’s guilt or innocence remains hanging in the air, along with the fate of Freddy, Chandra, Jack and Naz’s dad’s life as a cabbie, many of the locked in audience feel cheated.

I frankly love the curiously satisfying ambiguity of it all.

Sure, I’ve got theories about the cat, the raison d’être of Jack’s eczema, why Chandra would fall for her client and turn into a drug mule and whether Andrea’s financial guy was really, you know, the guy whodunit. And, as a former barrister, the courtroom scenes, if effective as TV drama, were laughably out of sync with what really happens in front of a jury. But that’s been going for decades.

For one thing, lawyers and prosecutors don’t get to comment to the jury after a witness’s answer. Just sayin’.

I’m taking a macro view of the compelling drama. This was not a “Who killed Laura Palmer?” situation. The murder and its solution were but a means to tell a greater tale.

Matters of consequence in life don’t always end wrapped up in a bow. Chance circumstance can shift one’s whole life path. Initial impressions of people aren’t always correct. Values often are corrupted on emotional whim. Earnest people with flaws fail sometime, and succeed sometime.

This well but not perfectly crafted tale touched all that. Read the rest of this entry »


The Spyglass Chronicles: 08/08/16

Posted: August 8th, 2016 | Filed under: Cinema, Culture, Music, Ruminations, Spyglass Chronicles, TV | 3 Comments »

chronVittorio Storaro, Santo Loquasto “Café Society” Steve Carrell plays a namedropping super agent in 30s Hollywoodland. His deco wood-paneled office is, as my favorite movie critic Libby Gelman-Waxner would say, “to die for.” Kudos Santo Loquasto, head of production design.

The Los Angeles scenes are sun-splashed amber glorious. You can visualize Gloria Swanson lolling by her pool. Cinematographer Vittorio Storaro has again worked his visual magic.

Despite its thin veneer of a plotline — boy falls for girl who is involved with older man, confusion ensues — Woody Allen’s latest is not without its visual charms. The octogenarian is to be forgiven if he doesn’t hit a vein of gold every time out these days. He’s at an advanced age, when most directors have long since given up the chair. But Allen’s keeping a full workload. He’s released a film a year since 1966.

He’s tired. His plot’s a might mundane.

But the flick looks mahvelous.

Lake Street Dive. Iroquois Amphitheater. Rachel Price lorded over the stage like Kathleen Turner’s Matty Walker chewing up and spitting out William Hurt’s Ned Racine in “Body Heat.”

This marvelous quartet is tight, no simple singer and back up, but . . . Read the rest of this entry »


Film Review Podcast: “Bear With Us”

Posted: July 29th, 2016 | Filed under: Ruminations | 2 Comments »

bearindexThere are lots of things to like about this new comedy, featuring Louisvillian Colin Smith, which played the Flyover Film Festival.

It’s in black and white.

The cinematography and editing are excellent.

And the plot, about a guy who takes his GF to a cabin in the woods to ask her hand in marriage — for the second time — goes deliciously and devilishly out of control about half way through the film.

The word cockamamie comes immediately to mind.

I found the farce, absurd and enjoyable.

Here are some further details:

Audio MP3

The Snapshot Chronicles: 7/18/16

Posted: July 18th, 2016 | Filed under: Culture, Ruminations, Snapshot Chronicles | 2 Comments »

chron“The Night Of” HBO. Good guy, son of immigrants, hooks up with mysterious beauty, gets laid, wakes up in the middle of the night at her place to discover she’s been slashed to death.

This exemplary, nuanced, intense crime drama mini series proves yet again what we’ve know for a long, long time: HBO on Sunday nights is Must See TV.

Duke’s vs. Hellman’s? Where do you stand on the critical question of which mayonnaise is the best?

It was a Facebook colloquy last week, among a group of intelligent, critical thinking adults. All of us apparently so tired of contemplating the state of our country in turmoil, our attention was thus diverted.

Having just bought my first jar of Duke’s ever, I have switched my allegiance, such as it was, to that lesser known brand. Eggier. Tastier. Providing a new resonance to that summer classic, the heirloom tomato BLT.

“All Down The Line” Rolling Stones. Anybody who’s seen the self-caricature that is the Stones in, say, the last couple decades, and has marveled how the once greatest rock & roll band ever still has it, needs to listen to this: Read the rest of this entry »


The Snapshot Chronicles: 7/12/16

Posted: July 12th, 2016 | Filed under: Music, Ruminations, Snapshot Chronicles | 1 Comment »

chron

Another Mule (Triangle Park). Kim’s back in town. So he and Monk and Barry and Don and Nick and Michael, whose jokes are corny as ever, but a smidge less blue, got it together for another reunion gig we’ve never expected.

The boys practiced and it showed, kicking it in from the first note. The tuneage rang as true as the perfectly delightful summer night.

Two hours of familiar faces, reminders of forgotten moments from back in the day, and old folks boogie.

We’d a stayed all night if they’d a let us.

Send in the lawyers, guns and money/ the shit’s still hittin’ the fan.

“Hurt” Timi Yuro. The car’s been sitting on a black asphalt parking lot for several hours in the middle of sunny, hot in the 90s day. I forgot to crack the windows open.

The V Dub’s interior is hot at Blue Dog’s baking ovens.

I crank the AC to 11. Just then, Ms. Timi comes on the box, with so much chilling ache in her voice, the Fahrenheit drops immediately. An ache so shivering, her singing gives up. She’s suffering so, her voice quivers, she halting says to her lover with a cracking in her throat, “much more than you’ll ever know/ Yes, Darlin’, I’m so hurt. Read the rest of this entry »


The Snapshot Chronicles: 7/05/16

Posted: July 5th, 2016 | Filed under: Cinema, Culture, Ruminations, Snapshot Chronicles | No Comments »

chron“If You Ask Me” Libby Gelman Waxner. Those of you who have been coming here for awhile know that I’m an aficionado of cinema, and podcast my film reviews, forty or so already this year. Given that stature as a card carrying film critic, I’m often asked, “c d, who is your favorite film critic?”

The simple answer is Libby Gelman-Waxner, whose reviews for Premier magazine, may it rest in peace, set the gold standard. Also an assistant buyer in juniors activewear, daughter of the very wise Sondra Krell-Gelman, married to Josh Waxner D.D.S., an orthodontist on the upper east side, many of whose patients are the children of lawyers of famous people, with two lovely children and a dearest friend, Stacy Schiff, “a gifted marketing analyst still unattached,” she set a standard in the 80s and 90s that not only surpassed Pauline Kael, but became an exemplar no critic has come close to matching since.

Here’s just one example of Gelman-Waxner’s incisive and knowing film criticism: “I must confess: I know I’m not supposed to, but I enjoy the Rambo pictures, and for a simple reason — I like to watch people getting blown to bits. It’s silly, but when Sylvester Stallone hangs a hand grenade around someone’s neck and pull the pin out, I always think, Why can’t Sly do that to my dry cleaner, who always loses a button or a matching belt? In Rambo III, Sly is fighting the Russians in Afghanistan, but in my mind, he’s taking on my husband’s entire family. Josh, my husband, says his mother has allergies, and that’s why she spit out my lemon quiches — Sly, get the flamethrower, and while you’re at it, use the crossbow with the detonating arrows on Cousin Leslie, with the adorable two-year old who chews my slipcovers.” Read the rest of this entry »