The Unusual Music Show in New Orleans
I think all of us dads out there often worry that we aren’t able to be that “everything” in the eyes of our children. Work and the day-to-day grind rob us of time and then there is often guilt associated when we go out and do guy things that don’t include them, like a favorite pastime. I fully believe that all children really want out of us is love, security, and time. But there is often that scorecard by which we judge ourselves against others and we generally score ourselves pretty harshly.
Occasionally a dad has the chance to be the hero in their eyes and let me tell you; those times don’t come often, but man, the mileage we get out of them. I had the opportunity to be “all that” a few years back and it didn’t take much but a few dollars and my participation.
I was sitting at my computer one night when I heard a commotion coming from Shelby’s room. She came barreling into the kitchen screaming that Meg and Dia were going to be in New Orleans, and could we go see them. Immediately, my heart sank because as a family, we had been going through a rough patch, and financially, things were a little tight. I’m sure that I tried to mask the initial emotion in my face, but you know there are things that cannot be hidden. I asked how much the tickets were, and she left the room to find out. I think that deep down she believed that we would not be able to afford it. But she emerged shortly saying that the tickets were $12 each and I realized that this was an opportunity for me to make some shit happen in my daughter’s life. I told her to go order 6 tickets, and oh, man. She was excited.
The need for 6 tickets was obviously part of the reason for my initial fear of the financial aspect of such a trip. At the time, there were 2 girls, who adopted us as a second family, and who practically lived with us while their mother and step-father completed the building of a house in Wyoming. Then there is my sweet niece who we absolutely could not leave out.
When the day finally came, we loaded 6 people with light luggage in our 1998 Lincoln Navigator. Our crew consisted of, my wife, Melissa, our daughter Shelby, the McCree girls, Shelby and Lauren, and our niece Ragen, and myself. Yes, I had five females in one vehicle.
I had no idea what to expect. Though certain mental images come to mind from preconceived notions based purely upon life experiences. But any conjuring in my mind would soon be erased.
Before this story can progress, it must be understood that to this South Mississippi country boy, anything south of the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway is considered New Orleans. I rarely go to New Orleans, and generally find it difficult to get around down there when I’m driving. Add to it that 5 females in the vehicle with me, it is a wonder I didn’t just run the Navigator off the bridge!
The “venue” was actually at an address in Metairie, a Census-Designated place that is part of the New Orleans metropolitan area. We drove around, being ever so mindful of the one-way streets that are everywhere and add to the level of difficulty of finding one’s way around. Following the instruction of the GPS, Google maps on our cell phones, and insisting on complete silence from the girls so that I could “hear to drive,” we ended up in an area that reminded me of the scenes from the Grand Theft Auto video game. There was nothing that resembled a bar or theater or building big enough to host a concert. The area resembled more of an industrial area, but I don’t know if that accurately describes it. There were people walking around, people on bicycles, and though we didn’t see any, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see someone pushing a shopping cart. Melissa and I were a little leery of the surroundings. Thankfully, there was a police station up ahead a few blocks.
We were early and the building that GPS insisted was our destination simply looked deserted. There was no identifying number on the building or signs to identify the building as a business. I mean for $12 a ticket, I didn’t expect to drive up to the MGM Hotel, but I would have at least expected to see a sign that said, “Joes Concert Hall.” Also absent were posters or flyers with pictures of Meg and Dia advertising a “FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY,” event. I kept riding around looking for a place that looked more like a place that would hold a concert and less like a place where we might get led into and robbed.
We decided that this was the correct destination and I noticed a narrow alley to the left side of the building and wondered out loud if we might find something in the back. Beginning to feel that we had been victims of a scam, Melissa and I were considering pulling the plug on the whole shooting match. I mean, we really didn’t feel very safe. In fact, Melissa objected to my driving into the alley, but we did. I could see the place opened up in the back, and I thought there might be some indication of life back there. As we eased forward, we saw a panel truck with some people moving about. It could have been a drug deal going down as far as I knew, but Shelby, or Bracey as she was referred to when both Shelby’s were around, recognized Carlo Gimenez, Meg and Dia’s lead guitar player and they all started screaming. Then Meg emerged from the back of the building. I stopped and got out to ask if we could park there, and then I asked if they would mind if five fans could say hello. They obliged, and I turned and beckoned to the girls and they began piling out of the vehicle like it was on fire. Introductions were made, we apologized for being over an hour early, and we thanked them and returned to wait for the show. Finally, a line began to form outside the door, though there were no more than 30 people, and that included the six of us. It seemed to me that people just kind of showed up, mostly on foot. As a matter of pure conjecture on my part, I suggested to Melissa that some very enterprising, young guy was behind this. The doors opened and the line began to move forward.
The fact that we made it to the correct location and were now inside, did nothing to help us understand what was happening. We showed our tickets to a kid that couldn’t have been much over the age of 17 and moved into a dark, dingy, warehouse looking building with a stage that was maybe 12 inches in height filled with speakers and musical instruments. Looking around the approximately 30 x 50 building, the oddity of the situation continued. There were only two chairs in the building. They were at a small table with the sound and lighting control and an ice chest with bottled water for sale.
We found a place to sit on the grimy floor against the wall and waited. There were two bands and a solo act scheduled to perform, so we knew that we would be there for several hours.
The opening act was a three-member group called the Spring Standards from New York City. The group was an eclectic folk-rock band that set up kind of non-traditionally, with more instruments than people and at times, we weren’t sure how they were pulling off the sounds that they did, but multi-tasking was the way McCree, (the other Shelby), described them. Next was the solo act. We kind of felt sorry for him, simply because he was out of place for the venue and the audience. I’m not saying that he wasn’t talented, just that he didn’t fit. I really felt bad for him when we all decided to go behind the stage to the restroom and he called us out because we were a big portion of the audience. Meg and Dia closed the show and finally, there was some music in which I had become familiar with in the days leading up to the show. The cool thing was, in spite of the unusual location and such, it led to a nice informal atmosphere and the girls were able to stand right at the stage and could converse directly with the band.
The show came to a close and we were all worn out and ready to go. Back in the Navigator on the way home, we discussed the unusual evening and tried to describe what we had encountered there. To this day I can’t figure out how someone managed to get good quality entertainment form California and New York to play for $12 bucks a head in a dump like that. But it just goes to show that there are super talented people out there just paying their dues to make their dreams come true. I can’t blame a soul for that. By-the-Way, Dia in the group is the same Dia Frampton who performed on The Voice.
It takes a brave person to step out and take the road less traveled, to take the risks, do the work, and pay the price for the dreams they harbor. I am thankful for those who lead the way knowing they might meet with disappointment, failure, and embarrassing humiliation before the finish what they started.
As for DBeazy, well, I had to reach out to my girls to help me fill in some of the gaps in order to write this piece. Bracey’s recollections of the events of that trip are as clear as if it happened a few months ago. Her feedback reminded me of how thrilled she was to go and how she was in heaven up there at the stage with a group that she discovered on the internet, and finally, how I was the hero for making it happen.
******* The QR Code box I set as the featured image for this post is just a little interactive fun that I threw into this piece. If you work and read on PC’s and Laptops as I do, all you will need to do is hold your phone’s camera up to the code box, you will be linked to the interpretation. But since many of you read this on your phone, you can download the code box to your phone, then use your barcode scanner to decode it. (you can also download a QR Scanner)