Spoon, Republic, New Orleans, Louisiana

Spoon was one of those concerts that I was going to see, regardless of the fact that I don’t know their music.  When I saw on Poll Star that they were coming to New Orleans, I pretty much decided right then and there that I was going.  Of course, not being a devoted fan, I didn’t stand in line the day tickets went on sale, and apparently they sold out quickly.  I wasn’t really bothered because, as I told my bearded friend Baldwin, “I’m sure I’ll see them eventually.”

Baldwin isn’t as passive as I am however.  The afternoon before the show, he texted me, “Spoon tomorrow night?  $22.”  So I said yes, and I caught a ride to the show on Thursday night with Baldwin, his date Caroline, his younger brother Pike, the noteworthy and broken-footed Jon Guidroz, and Guidroz’s lady Meghan.

Foburg Festival, New Orleans, Day 3

I woke up Sunday morning feeling like I was underwater.  I had a 10 am meeting that lasted until around 2.  I coasted through most of it, partially because I couldn’t hear anything, but mainly because I got 4 hours of sleep.  Needless to say, Sunday would be the first day in several years that I got to enjoy a nice, lengthy nap.

I called Matt at around 5 in the evening.  “I slept ‘till 3:30 today man!” he boasted.  After Friday night, he had slept until 2:15, while I was up at 10:30.

“Shut the fuck up dude,” I muttered to him.  “You want to do this between 8 and 9?”

“You read my mind,” he said.  “I feel rough today.

By the time Matt and I showed up reenergized at Maison, the early show had already ended.  Though it would have been nice say that I was there for everything, I wasn’t bothered.  With 23 solid hours of live music in a span of 48, it’s safe to say I was pulling my weight.

Foburg Festival, New Orleans, Day 2

I awoke, incredibly hungover, to a text message from my good friend Megan: “Just farted so bad that it went through my pants and left a spot on the couch.”  Sometimes, I could just marry that girl.

We celebrated St. Patrick’s Day a few days early on Saturday.  We had the uptown parade, and I happen to live on the route with my roommates, David and Lillie.  Five weeks prior, I had ordered a Kelly green windbreaker that bore the CAKE logo – it was really awesome – but it never arrived (you can see it here).  Later, it would arrive just in time for real St. Patrick’s day, but I had work and couldn’t party.  I was pissed.

Nevertheless, I had the opportunity to try my first taste of crawfish for the season at my friend John’s house, so I wasn’t that pissed.  Before I dug in I asked John, “Are they good?”

“My boy Cusimano makes ‘em HOT,” John replied in a thick New Orleans accent.  You know you live in New Orleans (or Jersey?) when your “boy” is Cusimano, whoever he is.  But John wasn’t lying, Cusimano indeed made them hot, and by that I mean great.

Foburg Festival, New Orleans, Day 1

Friday

Foburg Music Festival started, for me, before 4pm on Friday, March 12. My three and a half year old computer, Sony “Bono” Vaio, crashed the day before, so my friend Meggie and I went out to Best Buy to get a new one. “I’m going to get a new camera,” she said. Though she had no luck, I’m now the proud owner of a tiny little Gateway Netbook for $358.64, courtesy of federal loans.

“Let’s go thrifting too,” Meggie demanded on the way home. So, to Bloomin’ Deals we went, where I found a gold mine of 8 cassettes, including albums by Pearl Jam, R.E.M, Jimmy Buffett, Hall & Oates, and Callaway. You wouldn’t believe this, butChanges in Latitudes is the third Buff’ album I own on cassette, and as such was the first one I listened to.

Then it was time for the festival. I heard from Matt (@EatPizza) early in the afternoon. “It’s such a beautiful day, why don’t we just go down there now and get started?”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.