An excerpt from my travel memoir, Time Traveled (e-book or paperback)
Since I was on a roll thinking up the best TV shows ever, I began to wonder where my TV crew was when a particular woman caught my attention in Lafayette, Louisiana. However, before I delve into too much detail about this mysterious lady, I must first provide a backdrop. I need to begin by painting a scene. For Cajun country, that scene is sound, specifically, the sound of Cajun music. The arsenal of instruments used where this story takes place includes all the eclectic ones, such as accordions, fiddles, triangles, washboards, and harmonicas, along with the usual suspects, such as guitars and bass. Obviously, any ordinary person will have absolutely no idea how to dance to the music produced by such an unconventional array of instruments. Hence, the person envisioning this scene will not have to dance but will happily watch. The people on the dance floor will know how to move to this music, and one particular female will dazzlingly stand out. She’ll have long brown hair, a denim outfit that can only be described as country zydeco, and feet that will move twice as fast as her hips. Every man will vie to be her partner, and in between sets, she will invite a lucky male to enjoy a cigarette with her in her powdered blue convertible parked in front of the venue. This woman will live the life that every Cajun girl only dreams about, but alas, not every girl gets to grow up to become the Zydeco Queen.
From all appearances, this denim lady with her sexy blue car did not look like she would be giving up her crown any time soon. As an observer, I wanted to know more about her and what she did with her life when the music stopped playing. Alas, I resisted the temptation to become a Zydeco Queen stalker, as I assumed she probably had enough of those types lurking around already. I did have to admit that she intrigued me, though, as I had never seen anyone bred into such a specific role before. She was born to own the Cajun dance floor, for no other life could’ve possibly suited her. I was instantly envious of her and wished I had an identity like hers. I wished I knew exactly what I was born for. I thought of all the hobbies I wasted my time on searching for who I was, only to realize that I wasn’t the person I thought I was to be. As a kid, I was always pretty sporty and artistic, but I eventually realized I wasn’t bred to be a gymnast, dancer, or artist. It’s only now that I’m trying to figure out if I was born to be a writer. I was under the impression that the Zydeco Queen never questioned her identity. I ended up staring at her for way longer than was probably healthy, though, and I quickly figured out that she and I had equal stamina. We were both at the Blue Moon Saloon And Guest House for the same reason: to listen to music—a whole weekend’s worth. Every band nominated for a 2008 Grammy Award for the Best Zydeco or Cajun Music Album category was scheduled to play a set that weekend, and neither she nor I would leave until we listened to them all.
I had never heard live Cajun music before that weekend, and now I can say that I’ve heard too much. No, I’m lying because who could ever say that their ears have been assaulted with too much accordion? Man, I’m not gonna lie, though—that was a lot of accordions. Indeed, what I heard was wholly unexpected yet immensely appreciated by all who were there.
Before I traveled to Lafayette, I researched what venues offered Cajun-slash-Zydeco music because I desperately wanted to hear some live bands while being in that part of the country. The only place I found that guaranteed live music every night was a local institution called Prejean’s Restaurant, so I more or less planned on being there every evening. I booked a stay at Blue Moon Saloon And Guest House because it was cheap; however, I noticed that their website mentioned something about them being a live music venue as well.
By the time I arrived, I had completely forgotten that the hotel also doubled as a music venue, so I was caught slightly off guard when the guy at the front desk asked me if I was there for the live show they were having that weekend.
I was in that neck of the woods for the specific purpose of hearing live Cajun music, so I told a white lie and said, “Yes, I was here for that,” not knowing what I just said “yes” to.
“Great!” he said. “You do know who’s playing this weekend, right?”
“No idea,” I confessed.
The hotel guy let out a bellowing laugh. “Why, it’s everyone nominated for a Grammy in the Cajun or Zydeco category! They’re all locals here. The event will last all weekend!”
“Holy crap,” I thought to myself. “I hit a gold mine. And I don’t even have to leave my hotel.”
“Oh, and no charge for you because you’re a guest,” he told me.
This guy had to be kidding me. I had never been this lucky before.
That event went down in my personal history as the best musical weekend of my life. Unfortunately, it was an occasion that can never be repeated, though, since the Best Zydeco or Cajun Music Album is a Grammy Award category that no longer exists. What I experienced was one of those magical moments that occur in travel when all the stars happen to align just right.
I’ll never know what happened to the Zydeco Queen, but she sometimes dances in my sleep. I don’t dream about Zydeco music, though, as that would be too obnoxious. No, in my dreams, the Zydeco Queen is a ballerina, but she occasionally headbangs to Metallica. What can I say? Dreams don’t have to make sense.
Above is a random video of Zydeco dancers. Unfortunately, I have no archival footage of the Zydeco Queen.
Krista Marson 