Music in New Orleans

Fats Domino's house

I didn't go down to the Lower 9th Ward to take the above picture.  I swiped it from Wikipedia, which has an extensive article about Fats Domino's career.  The Wikipedia article describes the house as a mansion, and it may be thought of as such in the Lower 9, but it isn't the kind of gingerbread mansion you'll find in the Garden District or on St. Charles Avenue, uptown.  It is a stately house, however.  It's a landmark.

Most people don't realize Fats Domino is from New Orleans, or that he decided not to tour, nationally or internationally, later in life.    He is still alive.  He still doesn't tour.  He never wanted to leave New Orleans.  There wasn't anything good to eat anywhere else.  We here that a lot from people who came back post-Katrina.

Neither Frau Schmitt nor your humble narrator are music people.  We go out to hear live music, and there is plenty to hear, and we enjoy it, but we don't follow the bands or go to specific shows, except that we are big fans of Gal Holiday, who plays at Chickie Wah-Wah most Sundays, and we re big fans of Kid Merv, who plays on Wednesdays at the Ooh-Poo-Pah-Doo Bar as of this writing.

We're more like Richie Cunningham:


When Frau Schmitt and I lived in the Lower Garden District, I used to go to Lucky's Bar on St. Charles Avenue and the scene was often like what's depicted in that video.  There is nothing wrong with that, but it's nothing like Fats Domino.

Here's Fats:

Now, I should ramble on a bit about this and that and whatnot so that Mr. Domino can finish singing while you read along.  Fats Domino was born Antoine Domino which is a real Creole name.  The Antoine part if pure French.  The Domino part, I don't know where it comes from, but you meet a lot of people in New Orleans who have Domino as their last name.  It isn't their stage name.  It's their birth name.  Their last name is Domino on their baptismal certificates.

I've been reading the history of Domino Sugar, now known as Domino Foods, and the whole thing is very complicated to disentangle, but I think the company got its name after it bought a sugar refinery in New Orleans owned by one Walter Domino.  This is only my armchair historian's opinion and anyone writing their PhD dissertation on the subject should not quote our blog as a source.  It is pure speculation based on the evidence I've been able to uncover over the course of a few cursory afternoons.

Who says we don't take our job of relating New Orleans history seriously?  They have no idea how much effort we put into our profession.  Actually, most people who stay with us do.  Frau Schmitt and I are constantly correcting each other over the breakfast table, presenting what we know so that guests have the most accurate picture of what New Orleans is, how it got to be this way, and where it seems to be going.  We have two different points of view that tend to converge in the happiest middle sweet spot.  It's right in the middle of Esplanade Avenue.

We aren't the Bickersons or the Lockhorns.  We are much more pleasant to be around than that.  Ours is not an inn that runs on affectionate dysfunction or ennui or inertia.  It functions through the love we share for what we do in this marvelous city we call home.  Home is where the heart is.  We are ambassadors for our neighborhood and, larger yet, for New Orleans, which some people call America's most unique city.  We certainly feel that way and that's what we try to share.

We live in a city dense with details that overlap and intersect, all in a wonderful web that is both confounding and charming at the same time.

Let's have one last video clip.  This one is Louis Armstrong singing Blueberry Hill:



I could, of course, write and write and write some more about Louis Armstrong, but he is one New Orleanian who's story must wait for another day.  I'm not going to tackle it in this format, just as I defer from discussing Fats Domino in depth.

You can hear the same song sung many different ways when you hop from club to club in New Orleans, or even when you just walk down the street.  All of them are right.  We live in a city where music and magic are in the very air.

Listen for yourself with an open ear and an open heart.  New Orleans will treat you right.  I found my thrill on Esplanade Avenue.  You will, too.

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.