It is Monday night, a week and a day before Mardi Gras. New Orleans is well into Carnival season, and there were parades this past weekend. This should be the busy time. I played at dba on Frenchmen St tonight with Jonathan Freilich.
The scene at dba (on nights when more overtly creative stuff is happening) is usually a dozen or more music fans who are there to hear the band, and a decent size bar crowd who are there for a cool hang. Tonight the street was dead and much of the bar crowd was absent. The music fans were there, the tip jar was full, the club paid the band as agreed, and we all left with the money we expected to leave with, BUT it felt weird. Empty. Dead. As I packed up my gear, then walked to my car, I could easily imagine a scene a year or two out that looked like a ghost town. Empty buildings; a few brave lonely wanderers; a shell of what used to be. I hope that imaginary scene is the surfacing of my fears more than a premonition.