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Monday, April 23, 2007

Yuppie Fest vs Mumpkin Fest 2007

The Sunday paper ran a long piece which.. while it does highlight the issue... basically makes excuses for the prohibitive price of a Jazzfest ticket. In fact, such complaints.. muted though they are.. are at least ten years too late.

Prior to falling into my present mode of servitude I made my first post-collegiate career slogging away as a field hand in the ubiquitous soul-crushing New Orleans plantation-tourist economy. From my post there inside the monkey cage, I first observed the Jazzfest tourism phenomenon and the particular.. type of visitor it attracted. Rather than describe it anew, I'll just point again to the summary I laid forth last year at about this time.

I love New Orleans music... but I absolutely hate Jazzfest. Nothing could be more un-New Orleans than a confined no reentry venue where admission is an outrageous $40.00 per day.. where you're not allowed to bring your own liquor... where the food is good but ridiculously priced... where the crowd is mostly white, largely upper class, professional, out-of-town, aging boomer-fallen hippies, who view their participation in this rip-off as a means to purchase some degree of "authenticity". In other words.. it's an annual gathering of Chris Roses from around America.


Jazzfest tourists were always by a long stretch the most intolerable visitors of the year. A sea of white-collar weekend warriors descend upon New Orleans for the Jazzfest to slum it up and throw their pretentious pseudo-intellectual weight around. While in town, they continually complain and condescend to the local population about how "dirty" or "inefficient" or "ignorant" everything and everyone here is. In fact, they make great sport of finding new and more outrageous examples of the terrifyingly snarky service.. or rampant litter.. or gaping potholes.. or lax liquor laws in order to greater embellish their tales of their brush with "third-world" authenticity for the benefit of colleagues back home. Of all the misapprehension of and indifference to the plight of New Orleans in the wake of the federal flood, it is likely that the attitude taken toward us by the typical Jazzfest visitor is the most... enabling. "Fun place to visit.. but I can't see how anyone could live there." We've all heard that line before. You always hear it at Jazzfest.

Last year, due first to the emotions associated with the return of this pre-flood highlight of the local cultural calendar and second to the fact that volunteering at the book tent provided free admission, I decided to forgo my long solitary Jazzfest boycott... and ended up having a decent time. This year.. no.. sorry the armistice has ended. Not only do ticket prices continue to skyrocket, but it seems they do so for the worst of all reasons... so that we may invite the likes of Rod Stewart and John Mayer and Dave Matthews and.. well the rest of the easy-listening yuppie pantheon to annually shit all over what is nominally the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. I made an exception last year, but until some significant improvement is made, I'm not going back.

Instead I propose to initiate a new celebration which pays homage to another New Orleans institution; one that is currently in peak season. I'm talking here of course of the much discussed buckmoth caterpillar... or, as Rudolph demonstrates in the comment thread below the previous post, the "mumpkin" in local parlance.

Mumpkin season is indeed in full swing in New Orleans. Ray has a detailed discussion of the critter's history in the city going on here. A few days ago, we added these pipe-cleaner mumpkins to the library tree. The library mumpkins have since grown eyes and seem quite pleased with their home generally.



In a final salute to our mumpkin friends, I plan to spend this weekend not at Jazzfest but at my very own Mumpkinfest. Activities will include.. hanging out on the sidewalk (near the site of the now defunct Babbling Brook).. possibly grilling some meats and vegetables (if I actually go out an buy one of those little cheapo grills).. a mumpkin race, perhaps (if the participants can be rounded up safely).. music (if my shower radio has enough battery power) .. lots and lots of alcohol (if the pattern of just about any day at my place remains consistent)... and, most importantly, not spending 45 bucks just to be admitted. If the event becomes a success, plans for expansion next year will hinge primarily upon the availability of Rod Stewart.

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