got mojo?

Lanquid and sexy. Somehow I can feel New Orleans here. I can smell the gumbo and hush puppies (maybe it's the concession up there on the hill). All these people moving en masse to the rumbly-voiced men on stage with nicknames like “Big Eyes” and “Steady Rollin.'”

The Blues. I forgot how oddly joyous the Blues can make people. It's almost like this method of putting misery to music is such a complete purge of the bad news that all that is left is pure joy. Hypnotic. Couples dancing in front of the stage, people working up a sweat, drinking in the beer garden, lounging on the grass… everyone is enthralled by what's happening on stage. The crowd, which by rights could have been unruly (hard drinkers these blues fans), still responds to every word the performers utter. Every shout-out is answered, every echoing chorus sung by what seems like every single person out there. The Hammond B3 and the upright bass and that guy wailing on his guitar.

There's definitely some kinda magic happening; some sort of voodoo. The evenings feel sultry, sexy and someone's mojo was definitely in full effect. Ah the Blues… how I'd missed you.

Sing it for me now: “Got my mojo workin' “
It worked on me. That's for sure.