A Good Port

There was something like magic happening last night in downtown Manhattan. For the first time in I don't know how long, I felt completely in my skin and that my ship had sailed into the right port--had brought me to a new home after a spell of harsh seas and broken masts. A friendly port peopled by freaks as in love with quirky voices and weird instrumentation as I, people who huddled together to escape the rain and the cold, cozying up to a four-piece jazz band as if they were circling a campfire for warmth.

I had landed at my new favorite bar in Manhattan, The Ear Inn, the oldest working bar in NYC. It's part of the James Brown House (read the history). There resides the ghost of a sailor named Mickey, waiting for his ship to come in. In the 30s it was a speakeasy. And today they have homestyle food cheap, a reading series, and jazz that welcomes the likes of me (and the New Orleans diaspora) every Sunday night.

And there, I heard this AMAZING woman perform. Her name is Rachelle Garniez. Holy crap. She plays accordion too. I've always wondered where the female voices that had tons of character were these days--female singers who could do justice to a Tom Waits song. Rachelle is it. I think I am esthetically in love with this lady. She does these vaudeville shows too.

Her next show is coming up at Joe's Pub on Dec. 22. You should come with me!! (I'm talking to you, Erin Melina!)

PS: Jeremy Irons was there, totally digging on the music, especially our friend on the clarinet.