I may as well have walked a few doors down and braved my first tattoo.
There would be no ladybugs or cupid with bow drawn; mine would simply read: "MMQ" That's how much I like this band!
They played their first Free Man show a couple of weeks ago. It's a Cajun joint in Deep Ellum, serving fried pickles, Boudin balls, and bowls of gumbo as well as classic choices such as blackened shrimp or crawfish etoufee, and they host live music every day.
My dad frequented such places for years which I like to think is how I come by this craving of mine. One evening, sometime in the '60s, Ernie drove to The French Quarter, unable to convince my mother or the brother and sister-in-law they were visiting in Metairie to go with him. I believe he went to hear Cleo Lane.
I'd have gone.
What I'd give today just to hear him tell me the story again. Attention would be paid and I'd get the details down. Then I'd rush to tell the tale to Mark, Jon, George and Graham. They'd have gone too I bet.
The next time the Mark McKenzie Quartet is booked, I'm sliding myself into a booth and kicking back, knowing it's going to feel, for the next few hours, a little like the Big Easy in Big D.
No comments:
Post a Comment