A Night to Remember

2012.

The year of the cross things off of my bucket list.

Not the catchiest of slogans.

But in a matter of weeks I've managed to take care of two biggies.

First a trip to New Orleans.

And now Van Halen in concert.

WITH David Lee Roth.

About 25 years ago, I got to see a Van Hagar show.

And it was fantastic.

But until last night, I had never seen the real Van Halen.

From the first time I heard "So This is Love".

Or "Big Bad Bill".

Or "I’m the One".

I fell in love with this group.

But for one reason or more I never got to see the original band together in concert.

Hey, there was nothing wrong with the Sammy Hagar years.

But for anyone who saw Willie Mays play for the Mets.

You didn’t really see Willie Mays.

No disrespect to the Mets.

Or Sammy Hagar.

But Van Halen is David Lee Roth.

And of course it’s Eddie... and Alex.

And it’s Michael Anthony too.

But as much as the bass makes the music better.

The bass player is not the one wearing the sparkly jacket, doing the karate kicks in the middle of the stage.

That would be David Lee Roth.

And Thursday night he didn’t disappoint.

Oh, there were times he tried.

His voice is NOWHERE near what it used to be.

His dance moves were more Arthur Murray than Arthur Conley.

And that cliche smile made me feel more like he was running with the politicians.

Than running with the devil.

But other than that, Dave was flawless.

Even after all these years, this guy is 100% rockstar.

Well sorta.

At one point during the show I tweeted:

Sir Bacon ‏@sirbacon123

David Lee Roth is 75% showman, 82% caricature, 96% entertainer. That adds up to 100%, right? 

@RealCdnAngel liked that tweet so much, she made it one of her favorites.

Like the Bruce Springsteen show I attended in New Orleans, I decided to tweet the set list, live as it happened.

But unlike the boss, I’m not as well versed in Van Halen song names.

And that came back to bite me.

Several times.

I can probably blame my love for live tweeting on ADD, but I sure did enjoy it.

Instead of losing my real voice, I got to express my inner one.

Tweeting things like:

• David Lee Roth averted major disaster during song 1. During spin, sunglasses fell off. He caught them before they hit ground. Phew.

• No sign ... yet... that the band hates each other.

• DLR just did 1st back bend of night in song 4... 

• And there it is .. 9:20pm MT... David Lee Roth first karate kick of night. Good news, he survived.

• Guy one row in front of me just missed a note on air guitar during Eddie solo.

• Three sets of leg splits by DLR during Beautiful Girls.

• DLR to lady in front row: "I made my first sex tape in 1982. I slept w/any girl w/two legs in her pants. Even an amputee." TMI DLR.

• Song 24 -- new DLR sparkly jacket. ANOTHER one. -- Ain't talkin bout love. David Lee Roth has missed more words than he has sang.

• BREAKING NEWS: 10:51pm MT . David Lee Roth's latest sparkly jacket has been taken off.

• 10:54pm MT, #VanHalen leaves Denver stage after Jump. Our 1st clue was confetti shot off during song, then DLR waving checkered flag.

It’s amazing how much love you can spread through just 140 characters.

And it goes both ways.

Like @joesanders33.

He informed me that “VH fans do not wear earplugs” after I announced that I did.

My new BFF @RealCdnAngel told me I need to “listen to more Roth era albums” when I didn’t remember a name to a song.

A song that was released 32 years ago.

But the highlight of the twitter night for me came about an hour after the show.

That's when @wolfvanhalen retweeted a picture I took at the concert.

You see @wolfvanhalen is Wolfgang Van Halen.

Eddie’s son.

And the new bass player in the group.

How cool is that?

Me and Wolfie exchanging tweets.

That was my brush with greatness.

It’s almost like we almost met.

In all, the show ran five minutes short of two hours.

A decent time for a big-time rock band.

But considering that this big-time rock band may not be together for much longer, I’ll take anything I can get.

Other than a few songs off the new album.

I knew them all.

All 25.

And those 25 included pretty much every song you would want to hear.

Including the covers.

What I didn’t realize until recently is how much Roth was responsible for the unique sound of early Van Halen.

Not the insanely crazy guitar shredding.

That was all Eddie.

Or the hard-pounding drum rolling.

That’s all Alex.

But I’m told that Dave does deserve credit for taking an old classic.

And making it new.

Making it VAN HALEN.

Like You Really Got Me.

Dancing in the Street.

Pretty Woman.

Happy Trails.

I could go on.

It was Dave’s love of music that helped VH separate themselves from VH1.

And based on that, I’m guessing it was Dave who picked the opening band for this concert tour.

Kool & the Gang.

Yes, that Kool & the Gang.

Is there another?

That match didn’t really seem to make sense.

Kinda like when Eddie Van Halen hooked up with the little sister from One Day at a Time.

But unlike that marriage, Kool & the Gang worked out just fine.

They played for like 47 minutes and never once did I look at my watch.

One hit song after another.

Wrapping their night with a six-minute version of Celebrate.

Good thing they didn’t forget that one.

I found out at the show that the Kool in the group is actually bass player Robert “Kool” Bell.

And the Gang on this night was a group of 10 other guys.

10 amazing musicians.

So amazing I actually saw a bunch of 40-something white guys try to dance.

I wish I hadn't.

But they certainly set the tone for a great night of music.

A night of music that was well worth the wait.

Spring In My Step

September 2, 1981.

The first major mistake of my life.

Not the only mistake.

Not by far.

Just the first.

That was the night I turned down a chance to see Bruce Springsteen in concert at the San Diego Sports Arena.

I was 14 years old.

And I had never seen a Bruce show before.

He was on the last leg of the tour that was promoting The River 8-track tape.

I was at a friend’s house that afternoon, about ten minutes from the arena.

Unfortunately the rest of the details are a little fuzzy.

But the bottom line is part of our group went to the concert.

And the rest of us stayed at home.

I’m sure we did something really fun.

Like watch Laverne & Shirley.

Or play Pong.

But what I didn’t do is see Bruce.

Or the E Street Band.

It took me three years, one month and 29 days to realize what a giant mistake that was.

But thankfully on the night of October 31, 1984, I lost my Springsteen virginity.

That night my friend Phil and I had front row seats in the loge section at the L.A. Sports Arena.

And for four plus hours we were hypnotized.

I don’t know if that specific concert is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

But to Phil and I, it is THE best concert of all-time.

According to the trusty internet, the show started with High School Confidential, a cover of the Jerry Lee Lewis song.

And it ended several hours later with a cover of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

Somewhere in the middle Bruce actually played some of his own songs.

Now by 1984 I had already been to a bunch of concerts.

Everything from Stevie Wonder to Poco.

Heart to Styx.

But it wasn’t until that night that I found out I had never seen a show before.

By that point I was familiar with some of Bruce’s music.

But after that show I became a SUPER fan.

28 years later I own pretty much everything he has done.

And pathetically I know most of the words to most of the songs.

I can’t count on both hands the number of Bruce concerts I have since attended.

I would guess it is somewhere in the high teens.

And I don’t plan on stopping there.

My most recent trip into the swamps of Jersey took place last Sunday.

In New Orleans.

For only the second time ever the 62-year-old Bruce was performing at the 43-year-old New Orleans Jazz Festival.

The first time was in 2006.

That year Bruce put on a heart-wrenching post-Katrina performance that they are still talking about today.

Now Bruce wasn’t the only reason I decided to go to the Big Easy last weekend.

But it sure was some nice icing on the cake.

At Jazz Fest, they have like ten stages.

Playing music all day, from 11a-7p.

My friend Mark and I dabbled in the little stages, but by Sunday afternoon at 4:30 there was only one place to be.

50,000 others had the same idea.

The main stage venue was absolutely packed.

90% Bruce fans.

10% others, who didn’t have the strength to leave the fairgrounds after a day of drinking in the hot sun.

But when Bruce took the stage, everybody was paying attention.

Even people that weren’t there.

And to help those who couldn’t make it, I decided to push my limits of technology.

Tweeting out the list of songs.

Live.

As they happened.

Two nights earlier I learned of this new phenomenon, as I monitored the show from Los Angeles.

Courtesy of @Variety_StuartL.

Like any good promoter, I notified the twitter world that afternoon that I would be doing this.

And within minutes I had a whole bunch of new followers.

I mean friends.

Like @girltrueheart.

And @nancpl.

And @stephensurefire.

And at least a dozen more.

Not Ashton Kutcher territory, but not bad for a mom-and-pop blogger with a funny moniker.

My friend Mark didn’t share in my enthusiasm.

Harassing me every time I tweeted during the concert.

Saying I should be focused on the show, instead of these people I didn’t even know.

But to me, it was just a way of paying it forward.

From the first note of Badlands at 4:42pm.

To the last note of Tenth Avenue Freeze Out.

Two hours and 32 minutes later.

I tweeted.

31 times.  Posting 605 words.

And loving every second of it.

By the end of the show, my iPhone was out of battery.

And so was I.

Just like every Bruce show I had ever attended.

New Orleans Food Festival

This is the first in a series of blogs from my recent trip to New Orleans for the Jazz Festival, where I did plenty of eating, drinking and being merry.  Oh, and there was music too.  Enjoy!

Home Sweet Home.

Back in the friendly confines after four days in the Big Easy.

Nawlins, Louisiana.

Home of the 43rd annual New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival.

And my first trip ever to the city that never sleeps.

Sorry New York.

But this place takes the cake.

It’s a cross between Manhattan, Las Vegas and Tijuana.

The last time I stayed up this late listening to people scream, my wife was in labor.

But I’m not complaining.

I had the time of my life. 

So where do I start?

The Bruce Springsteen concert.

The French Quarter.

The Midnight Palm Readers.

The 2am street musicians.

The 10am Bacon Bloody Mary.

That’s it.

I’ll start with food.

Was there really any other choice?

Ok, there are three things that I’ve always heard about New Orleans.

Music.

Food.

And it’s very dangerous.

BE CAREFUL!

Oh, it’s dangerous alright.

If you can survive four days in New Orleans without blocking one of your arteries you’ve really accomplished something.

I knew going in it was going to be a food fest.

But I honestly had no idea.

Most our daytime eating was done on the grounds of the Jazz Festival.

That’s where they have 70 different food vendors.

Offering more than 200 different types of food and drink.

And we are not talking corn dogs here people.

We are talking real food.

If you don’t believe me, maybe you’ll believe the list of food that we ate at the festival.

Remember, this is just the food that WE ate.

And you may want to sit down for this one:

• Crawfish Bread (twice)
• Cajun Jambalaya
• Cochon de Lait Po-Boy
• Guil’s Gator with Fried Jalapeños and Onions
• Crawfish Sack
• Oyster Patties
• Crawfish Beignets
• Fried Soft-Shell Crab Po-Boy
• Creole File Gumbo
• Trout Baquet
• Grilled Chicken Livers with Pepper Jelly
• Cracklins
• Fried Sweet Potato Chips
• Crawfish Monica
• Sno-Ball
• Handmade Ice Cream Sandwich

And a fresh-squeezed lemonade.

To wash it all down.

Now before you call Jenny Craig on me.

We did this over three days.

And there were two of us.

And if you think our list is long, you should see the list of the foods we didn’t try.

It wasn’t due to a lack of effort.

I literally had no more room left in my shirt.

And that’s saying something.

This place was off the charts.

Everything was affordable.

Everything was fresh.

And everything was absolutely delicious.

Ok, the chicken livers were a little sketchy.

For me.

But the security guard lady positioned right next to that tent loved them.

“It’ll make you curse your momma out,” she said.

How could I turn that down?

So I didn’t.

I must admit the first bite was pretty good.

Ok, kinda good.

But a few bites was all I could tolerate.

So I shared the rest with the security lady.

Which made both of us happy.

Sharing food at the festival seems to be a common practice.

Even if you don’t know the people.

I did it several times.

I saw this guy with a paper bag full of something.

You could see the grease stains coming through the bag.

Which got my mouth watering.

So I just had to ask what he was eating.

“Cracklins”, he said.

“Cracklins?”, I mumbled.

“YOU NEVER HAD CRACKLINS!”, he barked. 

“Where you from?”

So I told him.

And he quickly offered me a sample.

How could I pass?

So I bit into this crunchy, greasy, bite-sized piece of ... godknowswhat.

That’s when he informed me what I was eating.

According to cracklin.com:

(and yes, there really is a cracklin.com)

cracklin is a fried piece of pork fat with a small amount of attached skin.

With my most sincere apologies to my Jewish ancestors, I must admit the first bite was amazing.

Salty.

Crunchy.

Greasy.

Everything you want in a festival food.

Then I took another bite.

And the grossness kicked in.

I couldn’t imagine eating an entire order of these here cracklins.

But to my new friend of ten seconds, it was a bag full of heaven.

Thankfully I stopped there.

With that one piece.

Come one, FRIED... PORK... FAT... SKIN.

Who created this dish, Jack Kevorkian?

Now I’m not saying the rest of this food was healthy.

Au contraire, mon ami.

There was more fat on this menu than on the set of Mike & Molly.

And that’s saying something.

But when it comes to food, fat=flavor.

And the flavor in these dishes was absolutely incredible.

I could go on all day, but how about I give you my top three bites:

#3:  Crawfish Monica

At a quick glance, this mound of delight appears to be from the Mac & Cheese family.  But add the Crawfish and you are on your way.

According to the creators of this dish, they also add “a lot of heavy cream, butter and cajun seasoning.”

Really?

#2: Crawfish Bread

This is to Grilled Cheese what the Monica is to Mac & Cheese.

Same family, different twist.   

Amazing French bread, split in half with cheese and a bunch of crawfish shoved in the middle.

Every bite is better than the one before.

We loved it so much, we did it twice.

#1: Cochon de Lait Po-Boy

The literal translation of Cochon de Lait from French to English is... suckling-pig.

I don’t care what you call it.

I call it AMAZING.

While I was in New Orleans I had Cochon de Lait on my pizza.

I had it by itself.

And at the Jazz Festival, I had it on my Po-Boy.

This sandwich is made by Walker’s Southern Style BBQ and runs about $8.

I think.  

They season the meat, then do 12 hours of slow hickory smoking.

A few years ago, Esquire magazine named this sandwich one of 30 best sandwiches in the country.

What are the other 29?

The sandwich is smoked bone-in pork butt with cold cabbage and a homemade horseradish sauce.

On French bread.

What else.

I threw some hot sauce on there too.

Because that’s what you do in Louisiana.

Then I slowly enjoyed every bite.

I even texted a picture to my wife.

Who didn’t make the trip.

It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to print her response.

Now I wasn’t the only one to enjoy this treat.

Not hardly.

Every time I walked by their booth, the line was deep.

But within seconds, each and every person was enjoying a mouth full of suckling-pig.

Actually, they're right, Cochon de Lait sounds so much tastier.