places i’ve been
the Sigur Ros concertThis is going to sound really faggoty (then again, I’m a faggot, so go figure), but it was jaw-droppingly beautiful, a perfect synthesis of the visual and the sonic. Good lighting, great projections, and that voice–coming out of one who looks for all the world like any old bi-curious Ninth Ward boy. Even standing for two hours shoulder-to-shoulder in a House of Blues packed with people I didn’t know, I was stunned and weepy. And I wasn’t the only one: while they were playing, you could have heard a cigarette drop. No, it wasn’t the Matthew Barney show, or even the Barney Frank show, but it was still better than the icy-cool demeanor of Barney’s, and way better than Barney on Ice.
my backyardYes, I’ve been digging again. This time, I’m serious. I’ve rented a dumpster and everything. About six inches below the level of my last efforts, I found what looks to be an old well (an educated guess, based on info from the previous owner). I’ve found more detritus, too–mostly kitchen stuff, since the kitchen used to be in the back, separated from the main house.
On a related note, the cute cajun boy two doors down told me he remembers talking to Miss Dolly, the woman who lived in the house before the previous owner–and who Jonno’s been prone to see lately. He verified that Miss Dolly was a madam, but according to him, the brothel she ran wasn’t in the Quarter, it was our house. Apparently, she and her girls kept all the sailors coming through the Port of New Orleans very happy indeed. I wonder if I’ll find some old sheepskins in the course of my excavations….
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