“How many times have I awakened to cravings of Mandina’s turtle soup or a po-boy. East Tennessee has good BBQ and bluegrass, but that’s about it.”—Beth Sager, Monterey, TN

VOODOO HOODOO
Bright moments at Voodoo Fest: 101 Indian Runners (with Jimmy Carpenter shaping the grooves and killer solos) went political, turning “Handa Wanda” into a rousing “Handa Wanda Obama”; Clint Maedgen + 9 (and then some) whipped up an early-morning, 80-minute medley of late-period Beatles music, with all the right instrumental details; TV on the Radio deftly twisted their “hit,” “Staring at the Sun,” into a Katrina anthem: “Somebody’s got to pay.” The Ballzack gang trying to self-censor themselves after being admonished by festival officials about dirty words (Who the fuck did the festival think they were booking?); the food concessions rivaled anything at Jazz Fest, but with sizeable portions.

Real life funnies (all comments guaranteed verbatim): “Who’s Quintron? I thought that was the Butthole Surfers playing.” “Man Man? They were great. They filled up the whole stage!” Tom Morgan on WWOZ: “Stay tuned for Ozomatli with Charlie Zuna.” Rehage Staffer: “Oh, we opted out of building the grandstands.”

My LOA pass experience: $1,000 for two tickets, plus shipping and Take-It-Mister handling, for wrong directions to “VIP” parking posted on website, for giving no directions to security personnel, for most distant parking spaces that filled up and gridlocked, and for the LOA Lounge itself: coupons for six cups of flat Miller Lite and two appetizers in tiny cardboard boats (cash thereafter), watered-down booze at five bucks a shot, chairs only for eating at tables, corporate-admission-only lounges (empty), backed-up pissoirs, bad sight lines to main stage, and no viewing stands as promised.

As a result, I spent the second and third days as “punters” at the Bingo! Parlour and the NooMoon Stage and all was well with my personal universe.
In the words of Johnny Rotten, “Ever have the feeling you’ve been cheated?”

The LOA pass: worthless (in fact, a negative bummer). The music: priceless.

—Bill Bowman, New Orleans, LA

MISSING NEW ORLEANS
Just wanted to respond to your [Jan Ramsey] editorial about what it’s like to miss New Orleans. As you said, so much is taken for granted when you live there. How many times have I awakened to cravings of Mandina’s turtle soup or a po-boy (I had never narrowed it down to one favorite)? East Tennessee has good BBQ and bluegrass, but that’s about it. I just returned from a family wedding in South Dakota where I latched onto a couple who couldn’t rave about their New Orleans experience enough. Then on the plane I talked to another displaced person such as I. For most everyone around here—I just as well be talking about living on the moon. They don’t travel, and “sin city” would be the last place on their agenda. My son and his family live in Toledo, and they plan to return to New Orleans when she graduates from nursing school this year. I do hope so because it would give me more reasons to visit my former home. I keep up with things like OffBeat, giving myself little tests about how tuned in to New Orleans I still am.

—Beth Sager, Monterey, TN

Beth Sager is the former Times-Picayune entertainment columnist and owner/publisher of Tambalaya Magazine.—Ed.

RICHEST CULTURE
I’ve got a love affair with New Orleans that goes back 40 years. I started going to Jazz Fest in 1984, but 2003 was my last (job layoff). Although I made it down in January 2006 to visit friends and attended my first Best of the Beat, OffBeat has been (if I can co-opt the oft-used phrase) my lifeline to the heart of America’s richest culture.

—Donald Scherdin, New York, NY

SOMETHING UNIQUE
Today, I picked up an OffBeat Magazine at the Southern Food & Beverage Museum in the Riverwalk shopping area. Wow! You are amazing. Your passion is truly delivering something unique. I love your plea for us be to a music center and I very much enjoyed the article about Trent Reznor, who used to live next door to me. He looks so much better with a little meat on his bones and some muscle. When he was here, he was very friendly but looked like he never exercised or went anywhere. The article explains why. Thanks for your devotion to New Orleans and your ability to keep on striving to make this a better place.

—Peggy Wilson, New Orleans, LA

Peggy Wilson is the former New Orleans Councilwoman.—Ed.