[Otclassof1973] OOH LA WHEE!

[neufsaid at juno.com]

LE BON TEMPS ROULE,

What we have here is nothing less than another fantastic Blues Festival
under our belts.  After Friday's free lunchtime harmonica heavy show,
Saturday's theme had a distinctly New Orleans flavor to it.  Under an
achingly beautiful, sunny San Francisco sky, the festivities kicked off
with the Brass Monkey Brass Band who got the crowd up on their feet and
they didn't let up even after they'd climbed off the front of the stage,
big brass tuba and all, and marched through the whole crowd playing "When
The Saints Go Marching In."  

Talk about audience participation.

The rest of the Saturday show was just as much fun and I hung out a
little more than usual up on stage.  But can you blame me?  It's the best
place to feel all that incredible energy, what with each backup band
doing their own particular call and response stomp in response to their
colorful main performer.

As usual, I kept myself available for whatever cropped up - there's
usually a small fire that needs dousing every half hour or so. 
Somebody's manager usually demands this or that for his performer, a
photographer didn't get his name on the backstage list.  I had to scare
up the armloads of beaded necklaces we threw from the stage (it's a Mardi
Gras thing).  I even had to throw a body block on Sunpie Barnes so we
could pay him before he went off to sign autographs.  He was so happy I
caught him that he threw a big old bear hug on me.  Sunpie used to play
for the Kansas City Chiefs, so no inconsiderable hug, that.

The fog came in before the end of Saturday's show and it got a little
windy.  I put on a long sleeve T shirt under my Staff T, because in San
Francisco we know enough to dress in layers.  After the show ended SWMBO,
her family and I went out for drinks and something to eat at a seafood
place - her aunts and uncles had come into town for the Festival and we
wound up taking over the whole back room, then it was home to sleep and
start over again on Sunday morning.

Sunday started out even nicer than Saturday - and stayed that way.  The
theme was back to basic meat and potato, straight ahead Blues music, even
Ruth Brown was there.  I could go on and on about the different
performers - who were all great, but the closing act was Little Richard,
who's even more of a character in person.  His people insisted the stage
be cleared before he went on, but his manager Jeff Weiner and I have been
partying together for the last 3 years and good old Jeff gave me special
dispensation to stay on the stage - that's how I got SWMBO up there, too.

Here it is, Monday and I've taken the day off to rest up.  This summer I
got back into long distance cycling, so it's time for my daily 18 mile
bike ride down to the Embarcadero, around the ball park, up to Pier 39
(twice), then home-again-home-again-jiggity-up-the-hill-jig.  I'm into
the whole special shoes that clip into the special pedals, water bottles,
cycling computer, gloves, pants, helmet and blinky lights.  I don't care
much about cycling shirts, but I did just pick up a new bike rack for the
back of my car, because I was tired of my old rack.  

So that's a few words about me, me, me.  How's everybody else out there
in Area 51?  (Tim, you turned 51, yet?)

Marvin

#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9
Using words to describe magic is like
using a screwdriver to cut roast beef.
Tom Robbins
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