Here is a photo of me and Fred LeBlanc of the band Cowboy Mouth, New Orleans’ version of the BareNaked Ladies. Ray Naggin’s a big fan. So are Mr. and Mrs. Etouffe. I’m starting to notice that when Etouffe takes my picture I look like Powers Booth from that Jim Jones movie. Powers, in addition to having an awesome name, has the world’s best comb-over. He probably even has a coffee mug proclaiming just such an accomplishment.

Now I don’t know the back story on Cowboy Mouth. They could be the house band at Fox and Fiends, for all I know. I told ole Fred that I saw them once opening for BNL, but I didn’t. I saw the Beautiful South open; my sisters saw Cowboy M. Anyway, Fred gave me a big, southern man-style hug anyway. Click, that’s a wrap.

But it isn’t, because I’m starting to think Fred and I are related. I have a maternal great-grandfather (deceased) named Steve LeBlanc. Codename: Action Pants, because he liked to tuck in his daughters and granddaughters, so the legend goes. This side of the family also claims that we are descendants of John Brown the Abolitionist. Pretty cool, I know. We may also be Slovak Jews; jury is still out.

Anyway, notice the huge craniums that Fred and I share. Literally. We look co-joined. Ling and Ming. Plus, we both sing and play in bands. Though, mine (The Slovak Jews) is fictional, yet melodic. Also, we’re both short and portly. Shportly, if you will. The proof, as they say on the cop dramas, is in the photo.

Speaking of dramas, fedoras off to “Mad Men” for winning yet another best TV Drama Emily Award. I’m almost caught up watching back episodes. Hope to find out who killed Laura Palmer soon.