Voodoo

I, nose like a faucet, a voice like a deeper Bert or Ernie's, and I'm reading an actual book because my internet just went down. And just when things were getting exciting with Jack and Kate! I won't say any more in case others of you also like watching your hit series years after they air on TV.

The stars definitely aligned this weekend, God bless Ben Franklin for daylight savings time. Halloween on Saturday and Voodoofest Sunday = quite a ruckus in New Orleans. The kind you need at least an extra hour to recover from. Here are Ashlee and I as red beans and rice:


Did the good-ol' out-super-late-and-to-school-Sunday-morning, so we could get our lessons ready for Monday before catching our concerts that eve. (The Flaming Lips. Dancing catfish. Lead singer walking atop the audience inside of a six-foot bubble. Typical.)




Silly hippies.



And then there were these guys who seemed so New Orleans I was totally bamboozled to learn they are from Portland.



I talked to one of the trumpeteers. Luke. Like Cool Hand. Like Skywalker. He said they look for outside gigs when they come around New Orleans. Hopefully we can collaborate someday. In the meantime, you PDXers should go see these fine folks. For real.