Her hair was still wet from a shower as she ran her fingers over her guitar's neck and turned its keys. The tiny hairs on her arms were golden and her stomach was as flat as a porcelain plate. She dropped her jaw and pursed her lips when Nick slid back the warehouse door. ...
Nick had to give its owner, Tony Mangiullo, a lot of credit for his equality. Diversity at its finest, Nick thought, as the cab rolled past storefronts selling hot peppers and Tejano music off Armitage on the West Side. The West Side is where the second wave, the next generation of blues guitaris...
What I learned by watching was that others were doing the same. People mistrust people. Each of us pulses with our own agenda. In New Orleans, and particularly, in the French Quarter, those agendas cross frequently.That night I was in my own house of worship—JoJo’s Blues Bar, with both eyes close...