I’ve never been in New Orleans on a cold morning, I don’t know if they have them. I’ve been there on rainy mornings, and those rainy mornings have all been hot ones, just like this one was. The thing about these types of mornings is that you don’t, or I guess, I don’t, mind the rain. It feels good.

Anders Osborne apparently likes to jog in it. That’s what he was doing when we showed up to his house, jogging. So we were greeted instead by the friendly handshake of his manager Jimmy Mac, and the inquisitive eyes of Anders’ young daughter, whose blonde head could be seen poking out from behind her front door in an effort to see what was up with the funky looking van that had come for her pops.

So we waited. I walked the dog, got a soda, took a little nap, all under drizzles, didn’t mind it at all. Then slowly music started showing up. First came Billy Iuso. A man we’d met via Facebook, we’d had no idea that he knew Anders, let alone that he was showing up to jam with him. A pleasant surprise that was. Next came three guitars, brought by Jimmy, in anticipation of the man who was going to play them. Last came that man. Fresh out of the shower, hair pulled back, glasses on, extremely happy it seemed, not about one thing in particular, just, he seemed like he was really happy.

Then we get to listening to him play his music, hearing his stories, words and songs. We get a little picture of why he appears so happy. We think about the nice house we’re parked in front of, the little blonde child at the door, the garden, the pretty neighborhood, everything bright, everything good. Then we hear what Anders went through to get all that, and well, we smile too. Not just because the music’s so good, but because we’re parked in a place where we don’t mind the rain, and the sun is coming soon.