I may be that the first recording of ‘Zodico’ music was by Texas musician Lightnin’ Hopkins, but the geographic center of the zydeco world is in the Parishes of Southwest Louisiana. The Creole heritate of accordion driven dance music is undeniable and there are any number of scholarly treatises on the origins, social implications, and cultural impacts of the world of zydeco. I will concentrate on my experiences visiting that world and its impact on my musical tastes and world view.
The very first band to play at Antone’s Club when it opened on Sixth Street in Austin was Clifton Chenier. Chenier had already devastated the crowd at Soap Creek earlier and Clifton’s Brother Cleveland, the frottoir player and fully blown minds by demonstrating he could lift an oak table off the floor—with his teeth! Yes, Austin’s Home of the Blues began with the King of Zydeco. This is the takeoff point for my exploration. The pure elasticity of and ability to incorporate multiple sources into the music form is integration: appropriation and assimilation. Clifton’s song “Zydeco Sont Pas Salés” is a commonly pointed to as the beginnings of the word Zydeco. “the snap beans aren’t salty” Creole French pronunciation sounds like the word zydeco.
BooZoo at Dog Hill
I subsequently saw Clifton, Buckwheat Zydeco, and a few others at clubs and street fairs in Austin. These sparked my interest enough that I ventured into the homeland with an adventurous girlfriend and some like-minded compatriots. We drove deep into the swampy parishes, through rice fields and crawfish farms to roadhouses like Slim’s Y Ki Ki and Richards to be in the element of zydeco. We went to Dog Hill, the home of Boo Zoo Chavis, who recorded an English language version of “Paper in My Shoe” and had a regional hit for the Goldband label licensed by Imperial in the 50s. We went to a trail ride where the music was punctuated with the aroma of barbequed pig tails and fried hog skin or gatton.
Beau Jocque at Richards
At the time we attended the Southwest Louisiana Zydeco Festival near Opelousas, LA, the biggest acts were Boo Zoo, Nathan and the Zydeco Cha Chas, and Beau Jocque. Break out younger acts were Step Rideau and Keith Frank. Whereas Clifton Chenier played a piano accordion everyone else played diatonic or button style accordions. Rhythm/percussion instrument, a rubboard played with bent spoons called the frottoir. The first few years, all the songs and stage announcements were in Creole French. As the crowd grew with more tourist, English became dominant.
Keith Frank at a Trail Ride stage
The dancers of that region had a specific style when on the floor. Da-Da-Da-Stomp, Da-Da-Da-Stomp! In a cartoonish vision, I saw the outside edges of the wooden club jump up with each stomp as my beer glass ‘walked’ across the table.
“Age changes you in ways you least expect” I heard this quote in a movie last week, but can’t remember which one. I thought about it off and on for a few days with the conclusion that this is most certainly a true statement.
Sitting outside a coffee shop, reading Patti Smith’s book “My Train,” I became filled with a thoughtfulness regarding my life. Feeling like a cheap imitation of Smith, I start writing on a scrap piece of paper thoughts for a post.
I’ve always been aware of Patti Smith because of her music. Often called the “punk poet laureate,” Smith has an impressive musical repertoire which still influences many.
After reading “Just Kids” a few years ago, I became a huge fan of her literary mind as well. I am at the same time appreciative and envious of her experiences and courage to travel her many creative paths—all while keeping in mind the difficulties of her life which arrived uninvited.
From my 2013 Twitter: I wonder what compels me to constantly try to do things out of my comfort zone?
Was I courageous in the paths I took in my life? Did I travel to places I always wanted to see? Did I follow a risky decision to some sort of personal transcendent conclusion? Can I still call myself a life-long learner? Am I still willing to explore new things out of my comfort zone? Yes and No.
Yes. In the summer of 2018 the hubby and I took a 5K mile road trip—in our Ford Fiesta–up to Minnesota, down to Nebraska over to Colorado and across to New Mexico—stopping on the way to see family and friends. No. I vow never to do this again.
Yes. I still read fiction and non-fiction. I recently discovered Wired magazine which I admit to some of it being over my head, but I’m learning. No. I don’t finish books that don’t grab me in the first chapter or two.
Mom and me. She had me reading at a very young age.
My mother used to say ‘only boring people get bored.’ Though I often say to others I have no regrets in this life, I occasionally lament some of my mistakes. But my life was not and is not boring. May your life be the same.
Yes, I out of my comfort zone riding the tram in Telluride.
A younger me with my son who I raised as a single mother.
One of my favorite lines is “if you remember the 60’s (or 70’s) you weren’t really there.” Well it seems plenty of us were really there and are remembering the Armadillo World Headquarters–that venerable music venue in Austin, Texas which was THE place to hear live music from 1970 through the early 1980’s.
Having been pointed in the direction of the ‘I Remember the Armadillo’ Facebook page by my brother Jack, I became an immediate fan. I proceeded to spend way too much time reading the posted memories, checking out the list of bands and dates they played, and creating my own nostalgic musing. Since my downstairs neighbors worked at the Armadillo, and would put me on the ‘list,” it seemed I was there every time the doors opened.
Just about every band or musician you ever heard of and, some you hadn’t, played at the ‘Dillo. Always the best audience, we gave a standing ovation for everyone—Ravi Shankar to Jerry Lee Lewis, Commander Cody to Frank Zappa, Freddy King to Boz Scaggs, and the list goes on. The Armadillo embodied everything about that era in Austin, the music, the camaraderie, the wafts of smoke (you know what I mean). But, it was definitely, first and foremost about the music for me.
So this weekend, I grooved to some of my old LPs, did a little dance and felt the love.
This summer, I agreed to go on a road trip to South Dakota with some friends. Between having to repeat everything two or three times, stopping to use the bathroom and nodding out in the back seat, we saw some beautiful country and visited some standard American tourist spots.
One cold and rainy day, we drove for 2 ½ hours looking for buffalo in Custer State Park. Now, I’m thinking “who named a park in a state full of Indians, the site of the massacre at Wounded Knee, after General George Custer?” This guy graduated last in his class at West Point and went on to try to kill all the Indians in the Black Hills so everyone else could have their gold. Anyway, after we actually saw some black spots “way over on top of that hill,” we decided we had sited buffalo and could go to the next destination, Mount Rushmore.
We drove up to the huge parking lot at the park, walked about ½ mile up the beautiful brick promenade and came to a terrace lookout and saw…nothing! The entire mountain was shrouded in fog. Squinting and peering like we could part the fog with our x-ray eyes, there was not even a trace or outline of the mountain, never mind its famous faces. It was an other-worldly feeling, knowing this huge mountain sculpture, you’ve seen a million times on TV or in magazines, was just on the other side of that wall of fog. It was kind of like faith, believing something is out there, even if you can’t see it with your own eyes.
So, if you ask me if I have ever been to Mt. Rushmore, I would say yes. If you ask me have I seen Mt. Rushmore, I would say, “I believe I have.”
I am a voracious consumer of the written word. Also, I stream a shit-ton of movies and shows, listen to music whenever I can, and appreciate visual art in just about any form.
I can vividly remember the first movie I saw in a theater, The Wizard of Oz. Seen in a small Texas town’s segregated movie theater. So many more thoughts on this…
I read Kafka’s Metamorphosis as a freshman in college. I happened on it in the text book, on my own, as it wasn’t covered by the sleepy, old professor.
Me at 20 going to college in San Marcos, TX
I leave you with this quote from a wonderful book by Irene Vallejo, Papyrus.
“The classics are those books that, like die-hard rockers, grow old on stage and adapt to new kinds of audiences. “Looking at you Rolling Stones!
Whatever y’all do, do it with passion and appreciation. I hope to live as long as this guy.
Last night I remembered this great song by Three Dog Night. I played it a few times and thought about traveling.
I’ve never been to Spain, and I’ll probably never get there. I’d like to Tango in high heels and swing my hair.
Never going to Angkor Wat, but I wish I could. The vibes that transcends space and time would be super strong there, at least they should.
I have been to the top of Aiea Heights, Hawaii. There a pine tree in a clearing that looks over Pearl Harbor all the way down to Diamond Head. I was only twelve, but perhaps, setting my life’s path breathing in the mystic air way back then.
I’ve never see the Amazon, though I think I’d really like to. I have been swimming in the Pacific, the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. And, rivers–large and small, where I would dip my toes or a fishing pole.
I’ve never been to heaven, but I have been to the Sweet Home Baptist in Clarksville. When my dear friend Uncle Seymour Washington passed, his friends, family, and neighbors packed the Sweet Home Baptist Church for his funeral. It wasn’t sad, but a heavenly thrill.
If Einstein were alive today, I imagine his sheer delight at beholding the space/time discoveries coming in from the James Webb Telescope. “When something vibrates, the electrons of the entire universe resonate with it. Everything is connected. The greatest tragedy of human existence is the illusion of separateness.” Albert Einstein.
This Alan Watts quote also seems apropos for a musing of time, space, and humanity.
“It is difficult in our logic to see that being and non-being are mutually generative and mutually supportive, for it is the great and imaginary terror of Western man that nothingness will be the permanent universe. We do not easily grasp the point that the void is creative, and that being comes from non-being as sound from silence and and light from space.”
[ Art • “Soul Alchemy – Fire and Water” by John Paul Olivares ]
It would be so cool if when I die my soul, in it’s purest form, rises to the sky and becomes one with space. Then I would really be traveling in the corners of the universe in the most spiritual form.
Until then I’ll keep on learning, dreaming and praying for the best humanity can be.
Also, what I wouldn’t give for a big fat joint to smoke!
We started streaming maybe 8 or 9 years ago when the Roku box first came out. Cut that damn cable and it opened up a whole new world of TV viewing. Now you can subscribe to any number of channels and get about a gazillion shows, movies, series, music… which doesn’t necessarily mean you can always find something you want to watch.
Now HBO Max, Netflix, Prime and others will happily suggest ‘if you watched this mystery movie, surely you will like all these’. My suggestions run from Viking shows, to foreign murder mysteries, to outer space horror killer clowns.
Sometimes I just turn the TV off and read a book. And, that leads me to the latest installment of What I’ve Read Lately.
Stephen King’s latest book Fairy Tale. Now, I haven’t read a Stephen King book in many years, though I was a big fan of King from the beginning. I was enthralled with every part of the story and characters. It was a delight to read and I was sad to see it end–the highest praise for any book.
The Book of Night Women sort of hits you in the gut. I can still remember the emotions I had when reading it. Written by Marlon James who was National Book Award finalist for Black Leopard, Red Wolf and the WINNER of the 2015 Man Booker Prize for A Brief History of Seven Killings. This is a review from Time Out New York that tells it better than I could. “James has given us an epic novel of late-eighteenth-century West Indian slavery, complete with all its carnage and brutishness, but one that, like a Toni Morrison novel, whispers rather than shouts its horrors.”
Then I’ve read a series of murder mysteries taking place on the Scottish coast–The Dr. Cathy Moreland Mysteries by Mairi Chong. There are a lot of fairly decent books in Kindle Unlimited. Sometimes, I just like a quick, easy, but suspenseful read. The author J.D. Barker has some good mystery books in Unlimited as well.
I haven’t written much lately. Not because I didn’t have anything to say. There are just a lot of folks out there who do have something to say and can say it better than I can.
I have a lot of thoughts. Sometimes they keep me awake at night. Sometimes they are good actionable thoughts. Sometimes they are fractions of memories that make me happy or maybe queasy. My brother asked me the other day if I had any regrets regarding my behavior when I was younger–or even into middle age. I said I did. But, the past is not changeable, nor should it be dwelled upon. So, I just try to do better going forward.
Below are a few articles or books I’ve recently read that I think are worthy to share:
Trump should fill Christians with rage. How come he doesn’t? Michael Gerson writes in depth about the embrace of faux Christianity with politics. He doesn’t mince words. “Surveying the transgressive malevolence of the radical right, one is forced to conclude: If this is not moral ruin, then there are no moral rules.” He lays out what is and isn’t acting like a Christian or any other decent, moral human being.
The Overstory by Richard Powers is an amazing book about people in love with trees. “We all travel the Milky Way together, trees and men. . . “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks. The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness.”
From Asymmetry: A Novel by Lisa Halliday” When, then, does one man’s delusion become the world’s reality? Is it every generation’s destiny to contend with a dictator’s whims? “By shrewd and constant application of propaganda,” we read in Mein Kampf, “heaven can be presented to the people as hell and, vice versa, the wretchedest experience as a paradise.” But only when the people in question fail in their duty toward vigilance. Only when through inaction we are complicit. Only when we are sleepwalking ourselves. Another swig. “Baby? Baby, where are you?” Somewhat appropriate for these times, wouldn’t you say?
You know who is a great thinker? Patti Smith. I love her poetry, her songs and her books Someone asked me who I would like to be in another life and I said just like Patti Smith. Check out her Wikipedia page for information on all her works. Prepare to be amazed.
It’s hotter than blue blazes here in Texas. Every stinking day for at least a month it’s been over 100 degrees. Thank God for air-conditioning–I say before I see my smoking hot monthly electric bill.
What have y’all been up to?
I threw myself a 75th birthday party with two homemade cakes courtesy of hubby. Lots of family came in town and my eclectic group of friends came to wish me well. It was a super party. Everyone brought me wine or vodka. Hmm, what did that say?
I think the hubby was a bit overwhelmed with all the activity.
I’m getting out a little more. Living thru the pandemic which seems to have no end in site. Still wearing that mask, but going a few more places. Like the Van Gogh Immersive show. What a wonderful experience.
I’ve been reading a lot. My ability to read a long book is over. I mostly find murder mysteries or sci-fi novels. River of Gods by Candice Millard is a very good book about Sir Richard Francis Burton. He’s one of my favorite historical people. Olga Dies Dreaming: a novel by Xochitl Gonzalez is excellent as well.
So, when do you think ‘the former guy’ will finally get arrested for the umpty-million treason acts he’s committed? Can they please also take his whole family and his cohorts in Congress? It still amazes me how people can believe and adore him. I’ll say one thing, In the four years he was president, he and his administration managed to perpetrate a humongous amount of scandalous and down-right scary deeds.
Here’s a quote I really like: “To regret one’s own experiences is to arrest one’s own development. To deny one’s own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one’s own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.”
― Oscar Wilde
I’m very appreciative of the life I have right now. I hope you all can find a balance, a peace, a joy in your life.
I leave you with this picture of the grandkids–because I’m sure they are the cutest ever!!!
Since cave men allegedly conked a woman on the head and dragged her back to his cave, women have been treated as sex objects, slaves, non-persons except in their context of ‘mothers’. I believe that women rock this world in more ways besides with their hand on a cradle. Strong women are my sheros. From the VP of the United States Kamala Harris to the single mother who is raising her children to rise above any hardships–reminding them that they are loved and important human beings.
Heather Cox Richardson, a historian and writer of true, strong words in her post today: But “Mothers’ Day”—with the apostrophe not in the singular spot, but in the plural—actually started in the 1870s, when the sheer enormity of the death caused by the Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War convinced American women that women must take control of politics from the men who had permitted such carnage. Mothers’ Day was not designed to encourage people to be nice to their mothers. It was part of women’s effort to gain power to change modern society.
Julia Ward Howe, the true originator or Mothers’ Day asks all women (mothers or not) “Arise, women!” Howe commanded. “Say firmly: ‘We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.“
Posted by Laura Carter 
A Small Blog 