Thunderstruck

Steve Riley at the Whiskey River

By Steve Beard and Troy Meier

Entry 7. Monday, October 18, 2004

Click photos to enlarge

Bloated with Mathilda's chow, we were back on the road headed to Lafayette, Louisiana--the hub of Cajun culture. We checked into the Best Western Hotel Arcadiana, where there was an open Bible and a traveler’s prayer card on the bed stand. There sure have been a lot of these faith reminders on this trip.

We unloaded our stuff, put on clean shirts, and headed off to Angelle's Whiskey River Landing in Henderson in order to see Troy's favorite Cajun band, Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys. For those who follow stuff like this, Whiskey River was named one of the Top 50 Bars in America by Men's Journal in 2002. While I am not sure how one calculates such and honor, I would not be one to argue with it.

We drove on all these crazy back roads and over gravel hills until we finally discovered this ramshackled building overlooking a swamp. Voila! This was everything one would assume a roadhouse, juke joint, or tiki hut would be like in Cajun country. The place was jam-packed with people in Western shirts, cowboy hats, and Wrangler jeans. But then again, there were kids in hoodies, shorts, and flip flops. Everyone was welcome. The men were manly and the women were gorgeous.

Ironically, this was Sunday afternoon. While the rest of America was unbuckling their belts while snoozing on the couch to watch the Denver Broncos clobber my beloved Oakland Raiders in The Black Hole, we were surrounded by a few hundred of the nicest, happy-go-lucky people I have ever met at a concert. While night clubs usually do not begin until 10 pm (thus the name), Cajun clubs have their big gigs on Sunday afternoons. Go figure.

We met this great guy named Gene in the parking lot who kinda served as our tour guide, explaining to us all about Cajun culture. I think we were the only three guys not dancing with one of the pretty women. We are such wallflowers.

As you may have surmised, I know next to nothing about Cajun music, zydeco, or swamp boogie. It all, I hate to admit, sounds the same to me. While this is not my particular passion, it is Troy's. But I have to admit that listening to Steve Riley's band was one of the single most enjoyable concerts of my life. First of all, I could not help but chuckle about being in a place called Whiskey River on a Sunday afternoon. Second, the people who were there were absolutely some of the happiest folks I have seen. The crowd was made up of senior citizens who had failed to get the memo about being relegated to playing shuffle board, as well as Tulane University co-eds who were being asked to dance by these Cajun old-timers. Fun was had by all.

I have discovered that it really is all about the dance with these Cajuns. I have been to innumerable clubs to see bands play over the last 20 years. There is always a hunter/prey tension in the room among the men and women. It is not to say that everyone heads to shows for the pick up, it is simply to say: men + women + Jack Daniels = hook-ups. Without being naive, this was nothing like that. These folks danced and danced and danced for four solid hours. The vibe was righteous. While it was not a meat market, it was rowdy. Lovelies were dancing up on the bar and it was as loud as the Liberty Theater had been sedate and well mannered the night before. It is all part of this Cajun dance vibe. Old people, young people, rednecks, airline pilots, college students -- they all want to waltz, shake, and boogie.

As Gene told us, "If you come here angry, you definitely won't leave that way." He was right.

The hot tip for dinner was the nearby Mulate's Cajun Restaurant. This is a pretty well known Cajun dining establishment in the Lafayette area. The ceiling is covered with business cards from seemingly satisfied customers. Matthew Courville & The Cypress Knees Band were doing their thing on the stage (Matthew is in the center). It was a family thing, with the youngest member of the band being probably 8 or 9 years old. Cajun music is really such a handed-down tradition and it has been refreshing to see that a lot of younger people are choosing to keep this music alive.

There was a film crew from Belgium making a documentary about American roots music. They were interviewing some of the family members in the band. Apparently, they are on a similar musical pilgrimage.

I had a terrific bowl of seafood gumbo while Troy had shrimp and Jambalaya. We were going to head off to another club, but the directions from one of the very kind employees seemed very difficult and we were ready to head on. We got back to the hotel and tried to watch the end of the Yankees vs. Red Socks game but we could not keep our eyes opened.

We are big fat, forty-year-old wussies.

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