When I first embarked on this interview with Pat Savage, a quickly rising biker blues band scheduled to preform at the Steel Pony Express in New Orleans, I expected a smooth meeting and a good time. A native for 20 years, I am still spellbound at the shit that can happen down here. With as crazy as things get, I still had nooo idea this tale would have ended in jail, stolen camera equipement, rescheduled preformances, rained upon, and missed 2 concerts. One being Pat Savage :/ Most everyone knows I'm as mad as the hatter at a tea party but Pat with some real life blues, down and dirty in New Orleans, produce a new song and perhaps....CD? The man says it's so!

Scheduled to meet Savage at the Hard Rock Cafe's kick off party in the New Orleans French Quarter on Friday, Nov. 3rd, I had planned to present him with a voodoan stick decorated with leather, rattlesnake hide, bones, and a gris gris bag to be blessed by a priestess in a local shop I frequent. I stopped to pick up the camera man and his crew, then head out of Slidell, Louisiana. He had asked for me to stop at Bourbon and Toulouse to allow his worker a pit stop before proceeding another 15 blocks to St. Phillips where I usually park. After traffic edges me on and no show of the girl, I am confident she can find her way to the infamous Hard Rock Cafe.

Finally arriving with the owner and no video equipment, I headed straight for the bar to down a cold one to ease the frustration. I can't tell you what others thought as I held that stick up to make my way through a packed bar of thirsty bikers but I did get jokes about Moses parting the Red Sea and who is going to fuck with a bitch in a bar with a big black stick?!? I knew Savage would recognize the stick and yep.....I looked down at the next level and saw that he spotted me. With a big sheepish grin, he hung his head as to finish listening to the crowd around him. His politeness was evident but other impressions I picked up immediately were his reserved, earthy, and contemplating demeanor.

He made his way up to me where we started to talk only to be interrupted by myself to make my way back to the bar to grab us couple of beers to last the interview since I downed the first one from 0 to 60 seconds! I knew this was my last opportunity to make my way through the crowd before I handed him the stick; last chance to be the crazy bitch with a big black stick parting a sea of thirsty bikers!

I can't remember what happened next other than I somehow went to hand him the stick and explained what was on it. The gris gris bag, which wasn't blessed yet, had 3 rattlesnake bones made into earrings. I noticed I lost the fang but showed him he could easily remove the rib and vertebrae. I told him what the hides and other bones were and we talked about different cultures and their spiritualism. Now here Pat becomes fired with enthusiasm. Especially when talking indian culture and the items he had or his music. I'm sure this would have been the side of Pat I would see when talking about bikes, degree of rakes and stretch, ape hangers vs drag bars, etc. Especially since he has owned a Knuckle, Pan, and even a chopped Truimph.

I grabbed Gregg from Video Specialties away from the bar to take a pic of Pat and I. We posed as he fumbled with my unfamiliar camera. I invited Pat to join me down the street where we would have the time and space to converse and relax amongst the locals and introduce him to the Gold Club Girls, Giovani family of the old mortuary, etc. Again his exuberance and vivacity dominated and upon hearing it was 10 to 15 blocks to where anything was....he declined. This is understandable since not only is New Orleans notorious for wild shit down here, but going down dark alleys wth a crazy bitch and a big black voodooan stick can leave an uneasy feeling :/

We said our goodbyes and I told him that I looked forward to seeing him come out on stage with the stick and hearing him play. I thought this to be an honor and wasn't missing out on his entrance or music! Gregg and I walked to my car where he got the rest of his stuff and headed out to search for his friends, employee, and equipment. I kicked back at some of my usual hangs and talked to some local riders about the next days rides, dined, then headed for home. It was the next day I heard about Greggs equipment being stolen and the shot he had taken with my camera that night shows our waistline with drinks in hand :\

Sunday arrived and we headed out from the Gulf coast with 3,000 riders escorted by the usual motorcycle cops and choppers, supporters rallying us on from the sides of the interstate and on the overpasses etc. 3,000 more riders from Gonzales, Louisiana joined us at Zephyr Field in Metairie for this predominately independent oriented event only to also be met with a quick shower and the Jay B. Elston band leaving the stage. I did get a quick pic of a friend, Ron, as he left the stage but was extermely disappointed to learn they changed Savage's schedule. They put him on first so everyone (except the vendors and a few riders) missed the first two bands. I drink a few, roam around the grounds saying hello to riders I know (and ones I don't!!), checking out the new customs, chasis, parts, crafts, and the likes. Marshall Tucker comes to stage and I dance and drink the day away.

I spot Pat coming from around the stage. He pauses to speak with someone so I snap a shot of him and my camera goes to unwind itself! I had found his rattlesnake fang earring which he immediately put in his ear and told me how he spent his weekend in the New Orleans jail. I've done that and been there so I hated hearing this happened to such a warm and easy going character. He did get excited when he announced another song is underway! Iron willed, determined, brilliant, and innovative, this biker blues band is sure to steal a piece of everyone's soul.

I did get a picture of us together and it depicts the crazy ass weekend we had LOL! I had to throw $20 to a guy from Arch Angels Pools in New Orleans who was nice enough to send it right off to me! As for Gregg, I hear he made his report and got his equipment back ;)

Ironic how things always come into their own. The biker world has become enthralled with the Savage blues integrated with Harley Davidson sound effects. My intentions were to show him a side of New Orleans not known to many tourists and have him leave whistling Dixie but this just isn't his style. The delta, home of the blues, calls Pat down to her level and New Orleans has marked him as one of her own. I'm still the mad hatter and well....Pat?!? He's still singing the blues.

 
 
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