Archives For music

welcome sign

From Gulfport it was a fairly quick drive to New Orleans. We arrived early afternoon, parked downtown, and strolled Canal Street until check in. It felt great to be in a place with some grit and energy after so many sleepy southern cities.

la bridge

Mtuseni was a little freaked out on the I-10 bridge over Lake Pontchartrain. Leaving New Orleans he thought we were gonna blow off the side.

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We popped into an outlet mall near the casino to escape the swamp-like humidity. I bought Mtuseni a Fossil watch for his birthday. He was thrilled; it’s practically a luxury brand in South Africa. He’d never heard of outlet stores and was fascinated by the concept. The rest of the trip he could spot an outlet mall sign a mile away! 

After recharging in the hotel, we skipped over to Bourbon Street and quickly came upon a trumpet player and drummer jamming on a corner. The street was packed with people in various states of lucidity — all grooving and smiling and having a good time. Let the party begin! I’d never been to New Orleans but certainly knew what to expect. Mtuseni didn’t have a clue; he was wowed.

Check out video of more sassy brass that night on our Instagram!

After a while we grabbed dinner where I introduced Mtuseni to gumbo, which I love. Then we went back out into the crowd — even livelier in the dark and after who knows how many drinks. People-watching galore!

Mtuseni isn’t a drinker, and I’ve become a lightweight over the years, but we both are crazy for music. I was psyched when we came upon some zydeco, and gave Mtuseni a probably half-assed backstory. But all you really need to do is hear it — and feel it! Zydeco just makes me happy. Mtuseni said his mother uses a washboard to wash clothes, not make music. 

We saw a few bands in different bars before finally heading back for the night. We had another long — and hot — day ahead of us. 

Check out video of a great band at Prohibition on our Instagram!

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prohibition pair

I didn’t have a huge ass beer at Prohibition, but I did have enough to grin about it.

Cape+Town+South+AfricaOne night in beautiful Cape Town, Mtuseni and I were in a pizza place on Long Street — a funky strip of cafes and clubs with ornate balconies that has a New Orleans feel. We’d been getting on each other’s nerves that day, a product of being together 24/7 for nearly a week after just meeting in person for the first time. Surprisingly for this Boston-New York pizza snob — the thin-crust, brick-oven pie was really good, so I focused on that while Mtuseni ate his curry. And we both watched a guy in front fussing with a laptop and the widescreen TV.

After a while I realized he was setting up for karaoke. When I told Mtuseni, he had no idea what that meant. Even though I’d never done it, I explained to him how it worked. He seemed vaguely intrigued beneath the teenage ambivalent face he’d been wearing all day. I was grateful there would be a bit of entertainment to enjoy, rather than watching him stare at yet another soccer game on TV back in our hotel suite.

The place started to fill up, mainly with college-age kids and some middle-age folks. It was a pretty diverse crowd, more so than I had seen in Joburg. The first woman who sang was astounding, and we all whooped and hollered. Mtuseni was into it, and I was relieved and happy to see a wide grin on his face.

The night continued with a procession of “singers” of varying degrees of talent ranging from “wow, he’s good” to “damn, she’s brave” to “shit, he’s drunk.” A posse of college boys sang loud backup, cheering their buddies on. A black woman at the next table grooved with me to some classic old soul that Mtuseni never heard. And everybody sang along with folks and laughed and offered good-natured support.

We had a long session of sightseeing and a trip back to Joburg the next day, so I kept checking my watch. But Mtuseni, who usually can’t stay awake past ten, kept telling me to have another beer. I knew I’d regret it later, but why spoil the fun by playing Mr. Responsible Dad? When was Mtuseni gonna be at a bar in Cape Town again? When would I?

So the DJ announced there were only two slots left. No… this tale is not going to end with me and Mtuseni getting up and singing “You’ve Got a Friend.” Neither of us took the mic that night. But a boy got up and started singing the R. Kelly song “I Believe I Can Fly”

He was really good. And I read the lyrics on the screen, and realized that every kid in the place, including Mtuseni, was singing along at full volume. It felt like the last hour of an old church revival meeting.

“I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky.
If I can see it, then I can be it.
If I just believe it, there’s nothing to it.”

Victoria+Wharf+Cape+Town+South+Africa+ferris+wheelThe song is such an anthem of self-affirmation and inner strength, pride and empowerment. Watching, hearing, being among all these young South Africans — each carrying dreams of success and a better life in the face of crushing odds — singing, “I can fly!!” at the tops of their lungs… well, I had to keep my head turned from Mtuseni so he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down my face.

As I sang along through my sobs, in that moment I knew I was doing — and would do — all that I could to help Mtuseni fly. And once he’s off the ground, I’d like to do something bigger to help more of these vibrant kids who want, and deserve, to reach their highest potential.


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