JON BATISTE

Burton Chase Park

Marina del Rey, CA

August 3, 2019

Photo credit: Jon Batiste

Six hundred years ago, in 1987, I met my first boyfriend, Mr. ____ Batiste. He told me he belonged to a musical family from New Orleans that was somewhat famous. That was a nice bit of family trivia, but I was more interested to know if he’d go with me to my prom.

Six hundred and thirty-two years later, his cousin Jon Batiste is on TV every weeknight as the bandleader and musical director for late-night talk show The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.

One day I got a flyer in the mail saying Jon Batiste and his band Stay Human would be playing a free concert in a park only a couple of miles from my house. Excited, I contacted all the local Batistes in my Rolodex* to make sure they knew about this and we made plans to go. (*A Rolodex is a rotating file device used to store contact information. Popular in the 1980s.)

This branch of the family tree had never met Jon but was there with all the accouterments ready to support him. We arrived early to secure a good blanket-laying location and had seven posters that, together, spelled BATISTE so he might notice our group. We waited for four hours. The show was on time but unfortunately, it started a block away and over a hill. The music got steadily louder, however, as the band played in a festive procession from the backstage trailer, through the park, among the crowd, and onto the stage. (In New Orleans this type of musical parade is called a second line.)

They filled the park with joy, inspiring everyone to join in like one, big, happy family.

For the next two hours, Jon and his band put on a fantastic show. At one point, he stepped off the stage to cut a rug with the group. He was delighted to find his cousin and as they danced he introduced her to the crowd. "We grew up together in Louisianna!" he said excitedly. Little did he know, more members of his giant family were also there waiting in the wings.

After fans happily let it all hang out, the musicians exited the stage tooting their horns and tapping their bells over the river and through the woods back to whence they came. Without missing a beat the audience followed cheerfully meandering through the park. Just as cheerfully, I made a beeline for Jon's backstage trailer.

The security guard cut me off.

He didn’t exactly share the same charming magnetism that Jon had, but I figured my group was right behind me and we’d have this settled in no time. Boy was I wrong. I texted my friend for some clarification. “Where are you guys?” I asked. “We’re going to the car,” she responded. “What? Don’t you want to meet your cousin?” I asked. She did but she didn’t know where he was. It was too hard to describe this complicated park by text so I hiked over to fetch them.

Once back at the trailer, I said to the security guard “I’ve got members of the Batiste family here to meet Jon.” He shook his head saying, “The family’s already been cleared.” Nice try, but, “No they haven’t. They are right behind me,” I said. He wasn’t giving in and neither was I.

We waited outside while word of our existence traveled to Jon's manager and then to Jon who requested to see the cousin he’d danced with. She went in and a few minutes later, he came out to greet the rest of us.

One by one the family walked up the stairs in front of me. Because most were meeting Jon for the first time, they introduced themselves as they entered his trailer. I'm your aunt, I'm your cousin, I'm your second cousin on your father's side... down the line. Finally, it was my turn. I said, “I’m not related but I used to date your cousin.” His manager laughed and said, “That’s pretty straight.” Elbow-to-elbow, the seven of us filled the tiny sitting area while Jon and his manager leaned against the counter across from us.

The family admired each other, marveling at the resemblance. “Yep. You got the nose,” Jon said. “It’s all in our profile. That was grandma. Strong genes.” He asked the youngest Batiste what he does. “Do you play an instrument? It’s in your blood. If you do what you love it will always be fun," he encouraged.

After about 15 minutes Jon’s manager, the party pooper, politely interrupted saying Jon needed to leave for the airport soon to catch a red-eye back to New York. “Okay, let’s wrap it up,” Jon said. “Let’s get out those cameras.” Snap snap snap. “Now one of the family,” snap snap snap. “I gotta get a selfie,”… I was last to pitch my idea. I told him the concept, "It's just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities. Will you take my picture?” He and his manager both laughed and with a big smile Jon said, “That’s original.”

He took my camera and snapped a quick pic but when he looked at the screen he saw that my eyes were closed. Enjoying this special request he kindly said, “Oh wait. Let’s get another one.” I thanked him and as he handed my camera back, he nodded his head and complimented my concept, “I like that,” he said. Adding a detail, I said, “You’re right after Chuck D.” He perked up, “Oh, Chuck D!” He smiled but was in a hurry so he turned away to say goodbye to the others.

Then, suddenly, I remembered, “Oh, no!” I touched his arm to get his attention and with an impish smile, I corrected myself. “You’re after Lorena Bobbitt!” Gasps filled the room after hearing the infamous name. Jon audibly groaned ”Yeah?” he asked. “But you’re after her so you’re safe,” I said. He exhaled and figuratively wiped his brow with relief.

We all parted ways and as I walked back to my car I found myself scatting an improvised tune. Yes indeed, the song in my heart had been liberated by the jazz, baby. No sound actually made it past my lips, but maybe one day I’ll share my musical talent with the world.

I’m so happy I could help facilitate introductions within this fabulous Batiste family. Many thanks to Jon for bringing The Big Easy to the Marina, thanks for taking the extra time to get our photo just right, and of course, thanks to Mr. ____ Batiste for bringing me into your welcoming family and for taking me to not just one but two of my proms.

Photo credit: Jon Batiste