We’re gone from the OMG-I-can’t-stand-this-heat to OMG-the weather-is-incredible.

This is the time of year that everyone loves to be outside: when the humidity and temp goes down and we easily recall why it is that we love to live here.

New Orleanians and Louisianians tend to stay indoors in the summer—just the opposite of northerners. But once the weather turns beautiful from October through May, well, we hit the streets. That’s not to say there aren’t some die-hards who run with the bulls in August. There’s much to enjoy in the summer. But full-on festival season is tied to gorgeous weather.

October is so full of events that we’ve tried to cram in just about everything we could in this issue, and it was damned hard. Festivals consist of two things hereabouts: music and food.

From seafood (Louisiana Seafood Festival) to barbecue (Crescent Blues and BBQ Fest); from film (New Orleans Film Festival) to Cajun and zydeco (Festivals Acadiens); from Bay St. Louis (Bay Bridge Fest) to the West Bank (Gretna Heritage Festival); art, books, German heritage, sugar, saving the coast, mirlitons, trains, black pots, Armstrong Park, voodoo and “Anba Dblo”: you name it, there are so many festivals celebrating whatever in New Orleans and southern Louisiana that you’d have to be superhuman to go to them all. What a set of moveable feasts! And how cool is it that we don’t have to travel far to have the best time of our lives—almost every month?

I would be remiss here if I didn’t mention our cover subject. We thought long and hard about who we wanted to feature this month on OffBeat’s cover. We decided to pay tribute to one of New Orleans’ greatest and most influential musicians, one whose brilliance, genius—and, sadly, his personal demons—burned him out at an early age: the inimitable James Booker. If you have the opportunity, you must view Lily Keber’s documentary, Bayou Maharajah, to premiere in New Orleans at the Film Festival on October 17 at the Civic Theatre. After viewing the film, it seemed to me that no one—not even his friends—knew him intimately enough to keep him from destroying himself with drugs, alcohol and a certain sort of craziness that kept almost everyone from really knowing him. He was certainly loved, but there was a hole in his soul that even music couldn’t heal. Booker was one of those whose brilliance was a flame that burned so brightly and wildly that it just couldn’t stay lit.

One more thing: we say a fond geographical goodbye to Brett Milano as editor this month; he just can’t stay away from his lovely new wife Marlene, who’s rooted in his hometown of Boston. Brett will contribute to OffBeat continuously from afar. We’ve had a grand time having him with us; you’ll continue to see his writing regularly in these pages. À bientôt, Mr. Milano.