We hit the road from Birmingham at the crack of noon for our 5 hour trip to New Orleans. Our show that night was a late one, so we weren't in any type of rush to get there, which was nice.
During the drive, I was all excited to break out the unopened veggie tray which we had ganked from the green room at the show the night before....a little happy hour of sorts to enjoy on the bus ride. Within seconds of peeling the plastic cover off the veggie tray, the entire front lounge of the bus was overcome with the most foul rotten veggie odor I have ever smelled. Everyone wretched and ran for cover, but there was no hiding from this olfactory onslaught. Melvin, who had been in a deep slumber on the couch, suddenly awoke, screaming for mercy.
Steve came rushing from the back of the bus, where the smell had quickly infiltrated, thinking we were under some kind of nuclear or biological attack. Robin pulled the bus over at a rest stop and we quickly ditched the toxic veggie tray outside and did our best to air out the bus. I think it will be awhile before I can eat raw carrots and celery without being haunted by this incident!
We pulled into New Orleans in the late afternoon, and unloaded our gear at Tipitina's. It was my first time in NOLA, and I was diggin' the quaint little neighborhood of Uptown. After the quick load, we made our way over to our hotel, a cool highrise with a giant clarinet painted on the side of it.
I grabbed a nap (in preparation of our very latenight gig) and some dinner, and then headed over to the Howlin' Wolf to catch some pre-gig music. Soulive and their family of bands was playing there, and road manager Tony Hume (decked out in a sweet kilt) got me in to enjoy a band called Dr. Claw, a Lettuce/Soulive supergroup of sorts with one of my favorite drummers, Adam Deitch. Just as the band started to really cook (with Ivan Neville joining in on keys!), I had to split and head over to Tipitina's for my show.
Tipitina's was fairly quiet when I arrived, with the crew scrambling to set up in the short allotted window. I enjoyed some hang time with Ken Swartz, an old friend from PA who I hadn't seen in 10+ years and who is kicking ass on the NOLA music scene. I also pet my 13th (and final) dog of the trip and unexpectedly ran into Bobby D, a FGC fan from Iowa whose birthday party we played a number of years ago.
Our 2am start time ended up being more like 2:45am, but we made up for it by raging one long set with no breaks. Right around 4:20am, George Porter Jr. showed up, and I was booted off stage for this bass legend to play a few tunes with the band. George plowed through "Merle's Boogie," "You're The One," and "That's What Love Will Make You Do." It was fun to watch the band from offstage, and even more fun to have a much-needed break at that late hour!
George relinquished the bass chair for the end of the night, and we played till well past 5am. Post-show, we raided the hospitality spread in the green room. Not to be foiled again with saving food for the next day, Charlie made the most of it with quite the hefty sandwich. We didn't hit the road until close to 7am, and it was kind of surreal driving back to the hotel in daylight, with the streets eerily quiet. I was beat, but an all-nighter seemed fitting for my intro to NOLA!
