The trees are already half-leafed out here in Houston. It’s a balmy lovely day. I am looking forward to tacos and plantains from the delicious and friendly Cantina Barba. Mmmmmmmm!
I’m pretty tired so I don’t notice random things like I usually do. I have to remind myself to do it. I find it’s more internal wandering. I can’t stop thinking about something my Uber driver said last night in New Orleans. He was about millennial age, maybe a little older. We were on the way to Tipitina’s for the show and he was waxing affectionately about all the bands he’d seen there and how much joy the club represented in his life and his family’s. He told me his brother was the one who got to see the truly epic gigs, however, as he was about 15 years older. “He saw Wendy O there!” he exclaimed, half crushed, half reverent. “I’m SO jealous!” (I was too! I’ve never seen Wendy O or the Plasmatics for that matter, I’m a little too young also.)
He went on to talk about his sadness regarding Wendy’s suicide in 1998. He broke my heart. “She didn’t feel relevant I guess,” he said and then broke off, “She couldn’t be more fucking relevant…”
Amen to that.
Why are we so cruel about relevance? Especially to ourselves. We miss you, Wendy O.
Hey I was at that Tip’s show! ‘Twas great! And yes, Tipitina’s will always be a big part of New Orleans music. Got to see The Cramps and Bad Brains in their heyday play epic shows there. Glad the Galactic folks are keeping the club going.
Thank you, Neko. Hoping you feel refreshed after your visit to the Cantina Barba. You ARE RELEVANT to us, your fans.