Friday, November 2, 2012.
Everything Going On At The Same Time.
Tonight, five events--all with alluring food and drink, all for non-profit organizations--went off around town. I was invited to attend and participate in one role or another at three of them. I had accepted two such requests. I am a terrible keeper of calendars. I had to tell one of them about a month ago that I couldn't make it, after accepting the title of honorary chairman. (They still got some mileage out of that, since they put my name at the bottom of their letters appealing to restaurants for help.)
Mary Ann very much wanted to go to Emeril's Boudin and Beer extravaganza. Even though it's walking distance from the radio station, there was no way I could do more that say hello before I'd have to depart for the to-do where I was to be the emcee and auctioneer. Mary Ann went without me, not being able to pass up the prospect of all-you-can-eat sausage from some of the city's best sausage-making chefs.
She also wanted to meet Mario Batali, who was there cooking. She wanted to tell him how much she liked Eataly when we were in New York last month. But she couldn't seem to get his attention. And the boudin was a little too uniform for her. A half-hour was enough.
To the Magnolia School for my next assignment. I spent my teen years in the immediate neighborhood of the place, which has been at the corner of Central Avenue and River Road in Old Jefferson since the 1930s. At the nearby Time Saver where I worked in my teens, we often met the school's "students. " They were and are what we used to call retarded, but now call intellectually impaired. Many of them hold down jobs, but need constant care and supervision. They helped out in the food booths, doling out shrimp bisque and pasta with crawfish and such like. Ralph Brennan was the lead caterer, with a superb selection of goodies lead by seared tuna with herbs and condiments, served on wooden plate/utensils of an ingenious design.
The attendance must have been gratifying. The place was full. Clearly, families who have been helped by the school are very grateful.
As it turned out, they didn't really need me. Spud McConnell--my colleague at WWL--was also there to do the same jobs, as he has in past years. We swapped off the microphones all night. Our friends Doug and Karen Swift had volunteered me, supposing I could bring something unique to the scene. With Spud there, most of my act is duplicative.
But I did find something that they will remember me by. I got to talking with the band, Groovy 7, and noted that they only had six people on stage. Do you want to do a song? asked the girl singer. Well, come to think of it, I do. She took me around to meet the band during a break. At least two were radio listeners. I intrigued them with a sample of my showstopper, "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." They went for it.
I was a little wobbly, but my falsetto was impressive. People came up to me the remainder of the night with approbations. The girl singer told me, "You are a rock star." Which, of course, doesn't mean that I am a rock star, just a bit of a not-unpleasant surprise. Enough for me.
