The Brownie Man

Some of the profound grief and sadness following Katrina's devastation has begun to lift. We have received word that Jazz Fest '06 is a go. We are SO there. (We should really all be planning trips to The Big Easy, to help jump-start the local economy.)

But the in the mean time, my mind continues to fill with images of characters with whom I crossed paths while living in the Crescent City. So I had to take a minute and pay hommage to "The Brownie Man." The Brownie Man, as he called himself, used to call the PJ's Coffee on Maple Street (where I worked) on a regular basis and inquire after our brownie supply.

"How miny caw-nuhs you got? How miny inz you got,?" he would want to know. (He had a decided preference for the corners and the ends from the brownie pan, which we would set aside for him upon his request.)

The Brownie Man played his trumpet outside of Cafe duMonde in the French Quarter, and for all I know, he lived off of the dollars and change which tourists tossed into his open trumpet case. I can only hope that The Brownie Man is safe and well, and out of harm's way. Who knows? Maybe he hit it big sometime back in the late '90's and is living in high style on Chicago's Gold Coast? Better yet, maybe I will see him back at his post on Decatur Street when I make my next trip back.