Fresh Friday Music, Nostalgia Style

Good morning, gheorghies. Good morning, lescoolies. No, that wasn't your browser on the blink again.

More good music to throw your way for a weekend. My friend Ned and his video design chum worked some real magic on a tune that conjures up old images for me.

I've highlighted my old growin-up buddy Ned Henry 'round these parts here before. In March of last year, his dad passed at age 95, a couple of years after his mom had left us unexpectedly. His folks -- Bucky and Barbara -- were truly amazing... 15-20 years older than most of my friends' folks, they were grandparently, congenial, hospitable, in on every joke, and always quick to whip up a mean breakfast when I woke up on their couch with a hangover at age 17. They seemed never to age, and my memories of them in their 80's and 90's conjure nearly identical images of them in their 50's and 60's when they lovingly took care of "The Whit."

In 2016, five of us from the old gang took Ned's mom, a William and Mary alum from way back, to a Jimmy Buffett (Ned's fave) show in a limo. Say what you will about Buffett, but that experience -- especially now knowing what lay in store soon thereafter, is a memory we all will continue to treasure.  Especially because COVID stole our good buddy Bill a few years later. 

At the show, I offered to hoist Mrs. B up onto my shoulders so she could see, but I was shot down. I mean, you can see how diminutive she was!

Plastic cup chalices...

She frequently chugged around town in a baby blue 1965 Mustang with a big smile. You saw her coming a long way away, and that was probably for the best, safety-wise. 

Anyway, this year Ned and his siblings took on the job of finally going through the old house and his folks' belongings. Unenviable a task for reasons of sadness as well as burden; when I asked Ned how long his family had lived there, he pondered, "Since the Kennedy administration... maybe Eisenhower." Whew. It just sold last month... God bless the new owners and the work ahead of them.

Just before the house went on the market, I woke up one June morning to a belated flurry of texts from Ned and his little brother, both back in town to sift through Henry trash and treasures, imploring me to come meet them out in the old neighborhood. They had been boozing on gin and tonics and blaring the Violent Femmes. They texted that flare sometime after midnight. Somewhat surprisingly, I was already sacked out and caught it on the flip side. 

But that didn't stop me from listening to them wax nostalgic and a bit plaintive the next morning, and right thereafter, I sat down and scratched out some lyrics to a song I then offered up if he had any interest. To his amazing credit, as soon as he got back to New Orleans he had figured out the music and was laying down the track. He tweaked my words just a touch and made me feel really good about the thought. He's a great dude. 

Ned released the track a few weeks ago and had a Crescent City cohort expertly compile a video with footage from the old neighborhood, Ned's NOLA home, and some photos of the old days. At the 1:46 and 2:54 marks you can see a few long-lost pics of a big galoot with his whole life ahead of him...

Anyway, if you feel like it, check out Ned, old Unit 11 (the Mustang), and our collaboration in this here music video.