Treme Gold

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There’s a square called Lafayette, a pretty little green thing nestled along St.Charles – where dark statues of old white men gaze upon a stage (they’re sharing the view with the few folks that don’t care about the parade quite yet). On this little stage six men stand with instrumentsΒ  that shine like jewels as the sun finally reveals its face. ‘Treme’ is the name stretched across the tuba.

A name written in gold. Gold that’s akin to the sound coming from the trumpets, horns and alike. Smooth like honey but sexy like a slow dance, just the right amount of motion to make you feel a little something something. The dark statues that gaze on get a taste of life from that big easy sound, just a touch enough to remember the sounds of times gone by – of cracked oyster shells, street car screeches and Mardi Gras cheers.

As the days of old and the sound of Treme gold combine the dark statues gain just enough life to smile down on this, the heart of New Orleans.

 

 

  • I wrote this when I was in NOLA (sitting in Lafayette square listening to Jazz) back in February for Mardi Gras. I also took the photo πŸ™‚