Missing Monterey

It is one of those years where the Blues Festival would not fall on my birthday week-end. The keyword is would. For the first time in many years I am  not heading down to Monterey to listen to great music and eat my fair share of red beans and rice, chicken wings, and peach cobbler. I have lots of great memories. As those are what will get me through, I thought I would share some thoughts.

I attended the first Monterey Blues festival, when there was one stage with folding chairs and dust, but great music. I missed two or three in the ensuing years, until I reasoned it should not be missed. That meant that my son did not miss the Monterey Blues festival in any in his 11 years of life. I remember his in utero enjoyment of James Brown and Little Richard. Even then he showed appreciation for rhythm, kicking wildly (but on beat) especially through James Brown. I recall James Brown improvising a rap in appreciation of teachers. I will always remember his talking about his father and mother and the educational opportunities they did not have. Through the years I have seen many great artists there. My favorites still remain Clarence Carter, Denise LaSalle, Koko Taylor, Shamekia Copeland, E.C. Scott, Little Milton, Buddy Guy, and of course Kenny Neal. That is ignoring the gospel music on Sunday morning, all of the great Zydeco, and all of the great local artists with whom we are blessed. I now have to say I have attended the last. The world is changing, There is an empty hole in the fourth week-end in June. I am feeling sad. I need it replaced.
Rev. Adj.