Today is Fats Domino’s 85th birthday. I adore him, having seen him perform and also unexpectedly every now and then while out and about in the city. My favorite Fats spotting was at a local old-school steak house with curtained booths when we were the only people in the place. Our kids were babies, and we wished they could appreciate just how cool their dinner was that quiet week night.
During Katrina, Fats’ home was flooded, including his Steinway piano and National Medal of Arts, bestowed by President Bill Clinton and later replaced by President George W. Bush. Like many residents that stayed for Hurricane Katrina, he was feared dead, leading someone to paint on his home. Thankfully, he was rescued by Coast Guard helicopter.
Source: nea. gov
Fats Domino is a legend, a genius, a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award Winner, a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductee, and royalty in New Orleans. He has released multiple gold records and dozens of Top 40 hits.
Fats Domino and his music have influenced some of the biggest names in music, as evidenced by the performers on the double CD “Goin’ Home: A Tribute to Fats Domino”, including the late John Lennon (recorded 1975), Tom Petty, B.B. King, Elton John, Paul McCartney, Lenny Kravitz, Dr. John, Irma Thomas, Galactic, and Robert Plant just to name a few. Not only is it an amazing collection, it also helps raise money for the rebuilding of Fats Domino’s home and other programs for the community, including Tipitina’s Foundation.
Source: prweb. com
Everyone loves Fats Domino, around the corner and around the world.
Happy Birthday, Fats!
The official end of Mardi Gras is actually one of my favorite parts of Mardi Gras. I’m not happy that Mardi Gras is over, I just happen to like the tradition.
At midnight, the police announce that Mardi Gras is over, telling the crowds to go home. A wall of mounted police make their way down the street in the French Quarter, usually followed by street sweepers.
No one leaves and the party continues, because the answer to the question is that Mardi Gras never really ends. Time to start planning for next year.
In my human nature, it has always been easy finding the small joys in life, the funny in any situation, but I’m so low, I can’t even fake a grin at the moment. I lost myself a little over seven years ago and can’t seem to find my way back no matter how I try. Some days I get closer, while other days seem too hazy. The past year and a half have been brutal and crushing.
This past weekend should have been like A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Except, it wasn’t. What I expected to be contentious became nuclear, and what I expected to be delightful was eye-opening in how sometimes you can try to give someone rubies and diamonds, only to receive fool’s gold.
I’ll be back in a few days after I collect my thoughts and re-group. Until then, much love and gratitude to those that bring light into my life.
This picture looks much like the last picture I took earlier in the week, but the air was a little clearer for this one.
The game’s huge numbers, dubbed “Super Bowl Stonehenge” by NOLA .com writer Keith Spera, arrived via barge on the Mississippi River a couple of days ago. According to Chris Granger, NOLA .com / The Times-Picayune, the numbers are 25 feet by six feet and bolted to seven-foot-tall bases.
For Chris Granger’s gallery slideshow, click here.
When I got back home this evening, I was looking at a local news website and saw the headline that Tommie Elton Mabry passed away. It can be accessed by clicking here. Reading Elton’s writings on the walls of a unit in the B.W. Cooper housing development, it is amazing how succinctly he captured what life was like after katrina.
One memory I have of returning to my home–no neighbors around, the electricity cut from every home for blocks and blocks–was the wind. There was silence, total silence. It was only a month after katrina had passed, everything was dead and brown, the contents of strangers’ homes strewn around and then randomly dumped by the flooding. There were no bugs, no birds, no dogs, no cats, and no people. The wind was so eerie. If a vehicle was approaching, you’d hear it well in advance. One would hope it’s a van bringing food and water, or military police in humvees.
When I read the original article about Mr. Mabry, I could feel deep down inside the frustration, boredom, sadness, desperation, hunger…everything. His writings are real.
If you are interested, click here for the link to the original story about his writings/diary. Again, a beautifully written piece about this man that speaks volumes.