I got a text message on Wednesday telling me there was a free Michael Franti show at 4:15. Although I wasn’t familiar with any of his music, I knew the name. “I think that guy was on the Hempilation CD I had in high school,” I texted back.
It turns out he was opening for John Mayer that night at the New Orleans Arena. I checked Franti’s Twitter: “I will be busking in front of the arena tomorrow in new orleans at 4:15. At the entrance across from the superdome. See yall there.” Mar 9 3:27 pm. The subsequent tweet read, “Its been brought to my attention some people don’t know the term ‘busking’. That means playing music on the street.” Mar 9 3:28 pm.
I turned to my partner, Meggie, and told her about the free show. “Is it going to be any good?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” I replied.
“Okay, I’ll go. It’s probably going to rain though.”
So even though the weather looked menacing, Meggie and I got in the car and headed downtown from Tulane’s campus. I took the obligatory wrong turn and ended up on the West Bank for several nerve-wracking minutes, but we still managed to get there at 4:15 on the dot.
However, when we arrived, heard no music saw no concert, only a moderate crowd of obvious Franti fans. With tiny droplets of rain beginning to fall on our clothes, I said to Meggie, “I want to apologize in advance if this sucks.”
By 4:45, the crowd started getting restless. “Do you hear that?” a lady said ominously. “I hear music…coming from above…”
“It’s coming from that,” I said, pointing to a speaker above our heads playing elevator jazz.
I was starting to think this free show was a wash. “I’m titling my article ‘The Balk of the Century’ if this dude doesn’t show,” I said to Meggie, frustrated. Then at 4:50, a hatted, statuesque Michael Franti appeared out of nowhere, carrying an old acoustic guitar and a tiny amp. With him was a much smaller guy, also carrying guitar and amp.
While quickly looking for an outlet for the amps, Franti yelled to the crowd, “Sorry we’re late guys. This is Jay. He broke a string on the way, but he fixed it in record time!” I checked Twitter: “We’3e on our way to play in front of NOLA arena and jay broke a string. Pit crew quick fix.” Mar 10 4:46 pm.
At that point, the two men launched into several songs that Franti explained were new, which was valid considering this was a free show, the perfect place to experiment with new stuff. They happily demanded audience participation, even allowing a lady, who happened to have an egg shaker on her, to jam with them in front of the crowd.
One of the funnier moments involved audience clapping. Throughout the set, Franti would ask the crowd to clap the beat, since Franti and Jay had no beat otherwise. At one point, Franti yelled, “Gimme a soul clap!”, possibly not realizing realizing that in New Orleans we actually have a “soul clap”. Once we started the soul clap, Franti and Jay politely made it known that they didn’t want that many claps per measure.
Franti also played his hit single, “Say Hey”, which he said he wrote in Woody Harrelson’s bathroom. “Isn’t it crazy that Woody Harrelson’s dad was convicted of murdering a federal judge,” I whispered to Meggie.
“IIIIII know, it’s so bizarre that he was a freaking contract killer,” she replied, smiling.
We couldn't hold back the smiles that day, because Franti’s little buddy Jay had a massive frin from ear to ear for the entire set. I don’t know if those were his stage theatrics or if he was just that psyched to be there in front of the arena playing for such an intimate crowd, but Meggie said it best: “It makes me happy that he’s so happy.”
And that did indeed make us happy. One minute I’m sitting at a desk, sluggish from a sugar-high comedown, doing the most mind-numbing work imaginable on a dreary Wednesday afternoon; the next minute I’m watching this tall drink of water Michael Franti playing the happiest songs on Earth; and his little buddy is turning a cloudy day bright.
“It couldn’t have been better if John Mayer himself showed up and started telling racist jokes about his own dick,” I said to Meggie as we walked back to the car.
“UGH you’re so gross!” she yelled at me, still smiling.
