Lucky Me

The first rule of the Down Home Family Reunion is you don't leave.

That is, if you live in Jackson Ward, you don't want to risk giving up your parking space because chances are, you won't easily find a replacement in the neighborhood all day and night today.

Fair enough. After a wildly busy week (I was away five of the last seven days), it didn't take much incentive to keep me in the 'hood for food and music.

All afternoon long, cars had been driving down Clay Street, music blaring into my open windows, for the most part classic R & B such as Roberta Flack and Rick James.

People were gearing up for the show.

Bound for the Rogue Gentlemen down Leigh Street, I got a backside view of the stage and Proverbs Reggae Band giving it their all for the crowd.

Walking down St. Peter Street past endless lines of cars circling the block for non-existent parking spaces, I saw a cop at the end near where the street was blocked off.

Pointing out that at least he could hear the band despite not being able to see it, he said, "I've been working this festival for ten years and I like it fine from right here."

Amen, brother.

At the Rogue Gentlemen, I found the bar empty and took a stool at the end where the music (Killers, Black Keys, Kooks) was easy to hear.

Starving after this morning's nearly seven mile hike, part of it along the Northbank trail, I proceeded to order far too much food.

Lemon verbena tomato gazpacho with pressed melon, pine nuts and buttermilk got me started on solid footing with the exquisitely melded flavors of summer.

A man came in and sat down at the bar around the time my pork crepinette - a good-sized flattened sausage patty - was delivered.

Vermouth-soaked cherries complemented the saltiness of the sausage and a soft-cooked quail egg added richness.

On the side was frisee with speck and pistachios, making for a decadent plate of food.

Midway through tucking into it, my sweet corn agnolotti showed up and I immediately switched over to that for fear of overindulging in pig and not being able to fully appreciate the little dumplings.

Floating in a pale orange sea of paprika butter and ringed with heirloom yellow cherry tomatoes and sprinkled with Pecorino Toscano and bits of guanciale (cured pork jowls), wonderful flavors all, it was the purity and sweetness of the summer corn in the agnolotti that was the undisputed flavor star of the dish.

As it should be.

Like the tomatoes and melon in my soup, there is no better time to be savoring them.

Walking home, I saw that people were arriving in droves to add to the already teeming crowd, so I went to get my chair and join the other music lovers in the park.

It was between sets so Al Green was blasting from the speakers and I found a place to set up with an unobstructed view.

People watching was great because so many people were styling for the festival and despite it being held in a field, there were lots of high heels.

After a while, a guy came over and asked if I was ready for the show.

Telling him I was, he said, "You look comfortable. I like to see that!"

Not long after, a woman came by passing out fliers reminding people to vote (not that I ever forget).

Then the guy came back to ask if I was alone and although I told him I was waiting for a date, he took that as a cue to stand behind me and tell his friend what a terrific singing voice he had.

To prove it, he began singing.

You must be a special lady
And a very exciting girl

The Elegba Folklore Society's dancers and drummers performed next and then there was an unexpected lag for Ray, Goodman and Brown.

After all kinds of delay tactics, MC Micah "Boom Boom" White admitted that there had been some mis-communication and that the band, who had been here earlier, had thought they were due at a much later time than they actually were.

The good news was they were just arriving, but with set -up and sound checking, it was practically 11 when they took the stage.

Their set had supposed to run from 9:30 to 11. Oops.

"It's been a long time since we played Richmond," singer Billy "Get Down" Brown told the crowd. "We used to play DJ's Supper Club!"

A woman in the crowd corrected him. "TJ's Supper Club. And I was your waitress!"

With a full band behind the three singers, they took us back to the days of love songs, even doing the synchronized hand gestures and dance steps to every song.

They'd been introduced as the band who were originally called as The Moments and known for their incredibly tight harmonies.

Their mouths were barely open before it was clear that all three voices were still spot on.

Referring to Barry White-like songs that women love, Billy said, "All you gotta do is sit on the bed and drop the needle on the record and let Barry sing. Then I say, take it off, baby. Well, we got a song just like that for the ladies here."

He wasn't lying. From "With You" ("loving you is easier than breathing") to "Look at Me" ("I'm in love") to "Lovely Way She Loves," it was music made for scoring.

When someone in the golden circle yelled out a request, he said, "Yes, honey, we're gonna do that. We're gonna do two way street and three way street."

Given the band's late start, I think everyone in the crowd was worried that they'd have to cut their set short.

The woman nearest me about lost it when they kicked into "I Don't Wanna Go," but everyone seemed to have their favorites.

"Special Lady," the song the guy had been serenading me with earlier, got the full singalong treatment with men and women doing separate parts.

Things got groovy when all three singers were introduced by name, zodiac sign and birth city,

I was impressed that Kevin used to sing with Luther Vandross but also bowled over that Billy's voice still hit those notes on the hits I recognized.

The crowd, meanwhile, danced and even sang along like they were back in high school.

Of course, the most reaction came for "Love on a Two-Way Street" and people began singing at the top of their lungs.

"It's the Richmond Tabernacle Choir!" Billy said as we sang and an extended arrangement took the song long past the three-minute mark.

It was a shame we only got a 45 minute set, but life's not always fair. Killer harmonies helped make up for fewer songs.

As I made my way toward home among clusters of people dragging chairs, I heard more than one ask a companion, "Where did we park?"

Happily, some of us didn't have that concern. We'd never left the 'hood.

Down home is right here.