Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five. Today in 1928, the band recorded “West End Blues,” at OKeh Studios in Chicago.
"What’s the playground like?"
“The ground is rocks that people can slip on and sticks that people can trip on and leaves that people pullin’ at. And that’s not being safe: what if they have glass in the leaves? We don’t have a playground. Sometimes you just gotta help a kid out.”
[NB NEWS FLASH! This young being’s school is in the finals to win a $20k playground from KaBoom, but is really lagging in votes. Let’s see if the NB community can help. Only takes 3 clicks to vote for Mildred Osborne Charter School here: https://www.facebook.com/LetsPlay/app_486254294756872]
Took the streetcar down to the Quarter on Sunday, got to Armstrong Park just in time to catch the last couple of numbers from one of our favorite local bands, The Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Always a great show, cher.
Everything you ever wanted to know about boudin! I am a boudin fanatic. I will try any and all boudin. I don’t have one specific place that I exclusively buy from, but I do have a Top 5 - 1) T-Boy’s (Mamou) 2) Bourque’s (Port Barre) 3) Best Stop for smoked boudin (Scott) 4) Billy’s for smoked and regular (Scott) and 5) Janise’s (Sunset). My absolute favorite boudin ball is Billy’s in Scott. The pepper jack stuffed ones shown in the video are incredible. I do have two places on my list of never, ever again. I will not name them, but it was a consistency thing for me. If a boudin is TOO ground up, for me, it takes on the texture of like pasty cat food. Disgusting. I have had boudin noir. When I was a kid and someone brought boudin, they always brought both kinds. Now, it’s very difficult to find. I’m not a huge fan. It’s too “wild” tasting, I guess, for me. It’s okay, and I’ll always eat a slice, but never a whole link.
Three years ago, nearly to the day, I packed my bags for the second time in three months, said goodbye to friends, family, and my job of 20 years and took the second step down the long road south. South of Chitown, I hit I-55 southbound and never looked back.
It was a rough year for the folks living along the Mississippi. I-55 crosses over the river in a long forgotten river town called Cairo, at the very bottom point of Illinois. From there the interstate follows the river south. Along the way that year, major flooding was common, in places the highway was sandbagged with just one lane left open. Memphis was a mess. Levees along the way had been breached intentionally to save some towns, and wiping out farms. But I kept rolling.
I-55 eventually ends, joining I-10 in the great swampland outside LaPlace, Louisiana. Now rolling east over the Bonnet Carre spillway with Lake Pontchartrain to my left, I begin to catch glimpses of New Orleans on the horizon. New Orleans, the city I fell in love with, and fell in love in.
And both were waiting for me at the end of the road.
And then today, three years later, I signed an entire forest of paperwork and took the keys to a converted double, in a neighborhood known as Pigeon Town. A small corner of New Orleans just a bit too gritty for most hipsters, and not historically cute enough for the yuppies to lovingly restore and destroy. So now, Miss Kim and I can sit on our front stoop and look up the block to the same Mississippi levee I followed here and watch the super structures of the ships heading back down the river to the Gulf, or listen to the deep thrum of the tugs pushing their barges back upstream.