Carnival Diary, part 3

Not really a Carnival day, no parades on this Monday, but a joyful little evening inside Donna's, the club on Rampart Street that's been holding high the standard of New Orleans jazz and brass bands. This club, with its incongruous Christmas decorations up all year, was one of the first music venues to reopen, and the Monday night jam draws a good number of the musicians who've returned to town. It's just three blocks away from the cover-band cacophony of Bourbon Street, but you won't see any TV news crews in Donna's.
On this night, Bob French is presiding from his drum kit, slinging sarcastic barbs at bandmates and audience alike. His brother George is on bass (the Frenches are, as they say down here, an old musical family), and his singing voice sounds like it's the place Bill Withers has been hiding all these years. At Carnival and Jazzfest time, Donna's on Mondays is usually packed with out-of-towners. But tonight, like the parades, it seems primarily packed with locals. The upside to all the downside in New Orleans is that people want to be with each other, in restaurants, in clubs, wherever they can. Oddly, the event that has done the most to shatter the community has also been the proximate cause of people's renewed need for community. The first set ends with Bob's announcement that it's time for food--red beans and rice, barbecued chicken, and birthday cake for the evening's trumpeter, LeRoy Jones.