The Rock’n‘Bowl had become a recognized part of the New Orleans music scene by 1993. In June, I had begun a regular Zydeco night every Thursday and it was met with immediate enthusiasm. I had no idea that there was a pent up demand for the southwest Louisiana music idiom in New Orleans. That enthusiasm was about to vault me into the national and the international music scene. Looking back, what occurred is another example of the invisible hand of God working his magic.
One Thursday early evening in October, a fellow in his mid fifties sat at the bar in a t-shirt, cut off shorts and sandals. I was working the bar because one of my bartenders didn’t show up for work. He was eating an alligator po-boy and I began a conversation. “ You’re not from here, huh?” I asked