Diary 4|8, 9|2017: French Quarter Festival #34.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris April 12, 2017 12:01 in

DiningDiarySquare-150x150 Saturday, April 8, 2017. French Quarter Festival #34.
It's going to be a very busy weekend, dominated by not one but two remote broadcasts from Jackson Square, as the French Quarter Festival swings (and jumps, sings, raps, and syncopates) into its thirty-fourth year. Also on the docket are two articles to write, the first half or so of our tax return, and another failed attempt to get the lawn tractor moving. And at the very top of the pile is Mary Ann's departure for two weeks in Los Angeles. Son Jude and his wife Suzanne actually need MA through the ten days she will be there. They're overwhelmed with a perfect storm of business. And their regular nanny is not available for the coming two or more weeks. This means that grandson Jackson is stuck with his Emmie (MA's chosen grandma name) as his all-day caretaker. As far as Jackson and MA are concerned, nothing could be better. MA misses her years as the mother of little kids, a job at which she excels. Unfortunately, MA's travel day is tomorrow--in the middle of the weather disaster in the eastern U.S. that has thousands of people with their flights cancelled. She will not be able to use her precious buddy passes for many days. I arrive in town at noon and begin the three-hour radio show. Jackson Square is as jammed as I've ever seen it, and I can hardly move as I try to attract some of the many restaurant owners. But they are so slammed with customers that they can't be away from their booths, and don't need the extra business I can send their way. However, I do manage to get a few minutes with some vendors. Paul Miller of K-Paul's has his standard offering of Butterbeans That Make You Crazy. The third generation of Mrs. Wheat, maker of Natchitoches-style meat pies, has not only the spicy meat pies but also a broccoli-and-cheese pie which, if anything, is even spicier than the meat or crawfish versions. David Haydel also has half-moon-shaped pies, but his are filled with strawberries, lemon, apples, and other sweet stuffings. He also brings his chocolate eclairs and his king-cake bread pudding. Also here are the managers of the Festival, and many, many people who I see or speak with only once a year: here and now. One of those people about which the above also applies is Mary Ann. She grabbed an expensive flight for tomorrow and will escape after all. Not that I ever thought she'd fail. She sets up some interviews for me tomorrow. She takes good care of me. It's a battle walking the streets from Jackson Square back to the radio station, where I left my car. I ate enough at the Festival that I will need no supper. At home, I take a long nap, then dive into the taxes.
Sunday, April 9, 2017. French Quarter Festival #34-Part Two.
I feel bad that I must let down the St. Jane youth choir at Palm Sunday Mass, but I have to hit the road at around eight-thirty to perform the second half of my broadcast from the French Quarter Festival. The gates hadn't opened when I ambled my way from the radio station to Jackson Square. The most interesting visual of the Festival is what happens when the gates open. Where yesterday were cheek-to-jowl crowds is--for a little while, anyway--swept by a tide of people crossing the green lawns of the square. The eagerness of FQF fans is impressive. In contrast with yesterday's lack of people for me to talk with are lines occasionally running three deep. And I have no food to sell! All you get from me are words and laughter. A lot of these people are those MA set up yesterday. She herself managed to get on a plane to Los Angeles in the early morning, with daughter ML running the chauffeur service. Which reminds me. What with all this hubbub, I have not dwelled upon the big raise and promotion Mary Leigh was accorded two days ago. After just five months. She loves the kind of design work she's doing, and her future looks very bright. (She continues to ask me not to even hint in this journal at what exactly she's doing.) Once again, I don't need to go to a restaurant for dinner. I consume plenty of my favorite cuisine while the festival went on. Best dish today: the brisket from Tujague's. Marc Latter, the owner of the ancient restaurant, didn't offer brisket last year. I think we can read something into that. On may way out,, I hear the distinctive piano of my friend Ronnie Kole and his five-piece ensemble. I'm glad he's here playing classic jazz. That's something the festival needs more of. I'm home at around four. I already had taken a long walk (25 blocks) and just needed a nap. Then back to the taxes. Yesterday, I was working with the online edition of Turbo Tax. I found it so clumsy that I went to Office Depot to get the CD version, with which I am very familiar. I pick up speed quickly, and have it about half done by the time I cannot focus my eyes. That's when I filled out the extension request form and call it a day.