You know it's a good night when you have to step into the restroom to remove layers of sweat soaked clothing. It's also a good night when tears of nostalgia and longing mix themselves with pride and cathartic joy. And that's just what happened on a chilly, Thursday night in Rosslyn, Virginia with The Pine Leaf Boys.
We danced. We danced some more. And I found myself spinning between two different worlds. As I watched my baby sister, Emee, sketching the band from the side of the stage, I couldn't stop smiling, while also missing my dad who would do the very same thing. My dad who taught me how to Cajun dance. My dad who was one of the first to document the world of Cajun music in the midst of reveling in it. My dad who would be bursting with pride to see this little crew of Louisiana kids showing the world how this how all works, this generation carrying forth traditions that nearly died away. I spent my childhood watching Wilson's parents, Marc and Ann playing cajun music in living rooms and on stages and now Wilson is doing the same thing. And doing it well.
When it was all over and we burst back into the cold night, I decided that we need to dance more. More spinning, more sweating, and more live Cajun music. I don't just want it, I need it.