New Orleans, I Love You

1998

The phone rang on a muggy orange glowing August Columbus summer day. I picked up the receiver, having no idea what the ramifications of the conversation would be. My former and future college roommate, who was stuck inside Toledo for the summer, was on the line with a plan for a voyage to fun. For some time before this my friends had gotten me interested in a rock and roll outfit from Athens, Georgia called Widespread Panic. Now this particular rock and roll band had a habit of playing some kick ass good time shows on Halloween. My friend informed me that the band was planning on playing Halloween in New Orleans and he was mail ordering four tickets and I was going. Rock!

Fast forward through two blurry months of college and we were off in a rush of adrenaline and anticipation for whatever was going to come next. We hopped in a four-door Buick sedan and headed South. It was fantastically American; filled with blaring music from the Buick’s trusty cassette player, bull shitting from the three occupants, and miles of open concrete and possibility. We left early on the 29th of October and we were in Louisville, Kentucky before I knew it. Bullet County, Tennessee, Alabama, and into Mississippi. The hours were filled with laughs and eventually a beautiful sunset. We didn’t arrive in New Orleans until early in the morning. With the aid of our handy AAA guide we found an RV lot that also had camping spots in Northern New Orleans. We made it to the place and proceeded to camp between a railroad track and an RV amidst the heavy and moist bayou air.

We awoke to our first day in New Orleans and the weather was perfect. Having come from the heart of autumn in the Midwest, the 80-degree southern day was a welcome feeling. It didn’t take long for us to realize we were in an incredible city. Everything was so lush, green, and full of life. Driving around the city looked exciting, new, and electric. After a quick game of Frisbee golf in a local park we headed off to find the rest of our friends, who had also made the journey down to the Queen City.

Once we met up with everyone it was time to hit the parking lot of the University of New Orleans’ Lakefront Arena for some pre-concert partying. The arena was located right on the southern coast of Lake Pontchartrain on the cities northern edge. It was an incredible sight. Many drinks were consumed and the good times were flowing. The concert was great that night with the band starting the festivities off with the Talking Heads song “Papa Legba.” Outstanding versions of Panic originals “Chilly Water”, “Pleas”, and “Coconut” highlighted the show. The band sent us out of the show with a blistering encore of Robert Johnson’s “Me & the Devil Blues” and J.J. Cale’s “Travelin’ Light.” The party continued until the wee hours of morning and somehow we ended up at a hotel trying to get a few precious moments of rest before the real Halloween party started.

After what felt like three minutes of sleep, face down on the rough hotel carpet, I awoke hung-over and feeling like death, but this could not stop our good time train from rolling down to the French Quarter. I had never seen anything like the French Quarter before in my life. It was probably 11am when we arrived on Bourbon Street and the craziness was already in full swing. The streets and the architecture of the surrounding buildings was very old and although it hadn’t rained since we had been there, puddles of nasty water were all over the place. Presumably, this was a result of the endless flow of liquor in the French Quarter and the fact that the city had been built below sea level. It was hard taking everything that was going on in because there was just so much to see. Beautiful restaurants with great smells emanating out there windows, raunchy strip clubs plastered with pictures of the dancers on the entrances hoping to entice people inside, doorway bars that served large frozen drinks with names like AK-47 and Hurricane, Widespread Panic’s bass player David Schools walking around having a time of it himself, and an atmosphere that just screamed, “do what you want anything goes.” We walked the streets of the city for a few hours, but then realized it was time to get our costumes on and kick off the Halloween madness. I had borrowed a powder blue leisure suit from a friend and was going as the porn star Dirk Diggler from the movie “Boogie Nights.” Amongst our friends there was a jailbird, Magnum P.I., a wizard, a sexy nurse, and a wild-eyed cavewoman. We all had a good laugh at each other and then headed back to Lakefront Arena for some more righteous rock and roll. The big thing about Widespread Panic’s Halloween shows are the surprise cover songs that they pull out and on this night they pulled out some doozies. “Peace Frog/Blue Sunday” by the Doors, “Pusherman” by Curtis Mayfield, “Swamp” by the Talking Heads, “Red Hot Mama” by Funkadelic, and the topper of the night “Over the Hills and Far Away” by Led Zeppelin. It was an amazing concert and it was impossible not to keep rocking once outside the arena

     

Just like the night before our crew partied hard into the night with many hilarious scenes going down. Magnum P.I. provided the quote of the night after seeing a scantily clad girl wearing an evil, yet cute, devil’s costume. Magnum P.I. chuckled a little bit and then slowly drawled, “If you’re the devil I’m definitely going to hell.” Everyone around us just lost it and howled with laughter. Many more weird and funny scenes continued throughout the night until once again we were back at the hotel.

After we awoke, feeling the pain of the previous night’s party, we gathered our things and jumped into the Buick and headed North. As we drove over the extremely long Lake Pontchartrain Bridge we rehashed our amazing times and what a wild city New Orleans was. Sixteen hours of driving later we were home, but the memories were still racing through our brains. I had never been to a city like New Orleans before and I haven’t found one like it since. Not even the Latin craziness of Mexico City can compare to the all out good-hearted debauchery of New Orleans. Some say that the devil lives in New Orleans, if that is true the devil sure knows how to get down.