CCJC Audio Podcast Episode 00025
In The Beginning - Part 3 - Emergency Meeting At Le Rose Noir Blind Tiger.
Before Marie-Salomé could introduce Aubert as the Keynote speaker and Temporary Acting President for this emergency global meeting the whole room was pulsating in electrifying splendor of great spirit minds connecting.
Having passed Etienne Forest’s earlier first unscripted motion, observers might think that having declared the initiative to humanize the Cajun Chronicles Podcast Corporation’s primary missions to create a podcast where the audience is in charge,
Aubert Einstein, having been thrust into this new role, hesitated before he stepped back up to the podium to join Marie-Salomé Curie, calling the emergency meeting to order once again. 8
That’s when that cloud of anticipation erupted as the cosmic gathering enveloped the meeting room. A swirling almost dry ice mist of hundreds of obscured the faces inside each glowing orb counted themselves present. This fact only added to the air of mystery in what was extraordinary proceedings.
"Order!" boomed a familiar baritone voice, cutting through the ethereal haze. It was L'Esprit Souverain des Marais (The Sovereign Spirit of the Swamps), one of the many New Orleans resident endangered species historians. His Black Rail voice is surprisingly deep for such a diminutive rough Bald Cypress tree knobby knee gnome figure now making his way forward.
He shouted, “I won’t stand for it! I want to be clear. Robert's Rules of Order are still in effect at Emergency meetings! No interdimensional travel shoutouts without proper authorization! This is too serious to not follow the rules!”
Ripples of lame jokes and muffled laughter, both humanized and other worldly, shared some concerns upon hearing this. It was so crowded at the conference table of worried minds, that even a delegation of disgruntled Germanic gnomes were shuffling around. They were grumbling about the lack of proper ventilation, and started assembling in kindred groups.
“Les Petits Hommes du Jardin" (The Little Men of the Garden) had their list of concerns. As did “Les Gardiens du Potager" (The Guardians of the Vegetable Garden), “Les Lutins du Bayou" (The Goblins of the Bayou) and "Les Esprits du Marais" (The Spirits of the Swamp).
"Aubert," sighed a voice that sounded suspiciously like a celestial choir, "Must we always be so earthbound?"
"Patience, Vivienne Robichaux," Aubert retorted, adjusting his spectacles. "Even in the grand vastness of the cosmos, there must be some semblance of order."
Francoise LeBlanc, a being of pure starlight, rolled her blind iridescent eyes, a breathtaking display of celestial fireworks. "Very well, Aubert. But I do believe a brief interlude of cosmic Hot Five and Hot Seven jazz would be most appropriate at this juncture."
With that, the emergency meeting took an unexpected detour from the agenda. Le Rose Noir Blind Tiger speakeasy, normally not a haven for earthly music, was now filled with the sounds of Louis Armstrong’s celestial trumpet, backed up by his innovative improvisations of beings of pure energy. His scatting warm vocals and his soulful strong sense of swing was incredibly infectious.
The Germanic inspired gnomes, initially disgruntled, began to tap their tiny feet, while the beings of hurricane force shadow swayed in hypnotic unison. Even Aubert, the most serious of all and sternest of them all, found himself nodding his head in appreciation.
"Ah," sighed Francoise, as the music reached a crescendo, "Now that's more like it."
The meeting of course, eventually resumed, albeit with a slightly more relaxed atmosphere. Discussions about gender bias, the lack of accessibility for the disabled, the plight of the homeless, the preservation of New Orleans neighborhoods, the honoring of all cultures, and even the proper etiquette for intergalactic travel ensued, punctuated by impromptu jam sessions and the occasional teleportation mishap.
As the night wore on the guardian of us all attendees realized that perhaps, just perhaps, the most important lesson learned was not the intricacies of Robert's Rules of Order, but the simple joy of sharing moments of cosmic communion, even if it was slightly off-key and occasionally chaotic.
After all, as one cosmic civil rights version of a song goes, ‘It's been a long time coming, this peace among the stars earth is seeking to embrace.’ And where better to begin than a smoky, slightly surreal Blind Tiger speakeasy in the heart of New Orleans?
"Yes, It's been a long time coming," intoned Marie Lirette, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. "Far too long."
Vivienne without her steely wheelchair wasn't human rolling backwards, not in the traditional sense. She was a being of pure energy, a shimmering manifestation of the Earth's collective consciousness. Her form shifted and shimmered, reflecting upon the anxieties of the planet. She was a regular swirling vortex of spring green and amethyst purple.
Beside her, Emile Navarre, a hulking figure of stone and shadow, grumbled, "Patience, Vivienne. We cannot afford to act rashly."
"Rashly?" Vivienne’'s form shook with indignation. "The glaciers are weeping and floating away, Emile! The swamp forests and bottom land hardwood forests both cry out in pain! And what does humanity do? They hoard, they consume, they poison the very air they breathe!"
Emile, embodiment of the Earth's ancient strength, remained stoic. "We have tried diplomacy, Vivienne. We have sent our messengers, whispered warnings in the dreams of their leaders. But greed, like all cancers eventually, has metastasized."
Out of nowhere they all heard loud and clear, "Then we must act," declared Gaia, her voice a resonant hum that shook the very foundations of the chamber. Gaia, the Earth Mother, was a being of serene power. No one expected her presence radiating an aura of calm amidst the mounting tension. "But not with force. We must awaken their conscience, remind them of their connection to the Earth starting here in Louisiana."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the assembled beings. Among them the spirits of the wind, the whispers of the Gulf of Mexico, the vengeful ghost of a long-dead forest. They were a diverse and powerful assembly. It was an honor to be chosen by these guardians of the Earth, united in their concern for the fate of these sinking lands as a starting point..
"But how?" asked a marginalized voice, small and hesitant but insistent. It belonged to Carmelite Savoie, one of the guardian spirits of the bayou breeze committee members, her form a swirling gust of wind that danced around the chamber. "How do we reach them? They are blinded by their own ambition, deaf to the cries of the Earth."
Nanette Malbreaux paused, her form flickering. "Carmelite," she mused, "We need to speak their language. The language of art, of music, of love."
A flicker of hope, a tentative spark of optimism, ignited in the eyes of all the assembled beings. "Music?" Aubert questioned, a hint of wonder in his voice.
Laurent Thibodaux nodded. "Music is that universal language that speaks to the soul, that stirs the deepest emotions. Music that reminds them of their humanity, of their connection to something greater than themselves."
Thus, the first of many emergency plans was hatched. It would be a “Change Is Gonna Come” ain’t that good news concert gift to Earth reminiscent of ‘We Are The World’ of long ago. They’d build a chorus of the cosmos. It would be written on the musical staff sheet of human experience. Whispers of the wind would become melodies, the roar of the Gulf would become a powerful bass line, and the heartbeat of the Earth would become the rhythmic pulse of the music.
We no longer have time for a long, arduous journey, a delicate dance between hope and despair hour glass has about run out. But as the visiting spirit of Sam Cooke added to the debate said, this moment had been a long time coming. As the guardian beings of the Earth, none of them would rest until the music of change resonated through the hearts of humanity.
The meeting adjourned for refreshments, the air in the chamber less heavy now, tinged with a newfound resolve. As the beings dispersed temporarily, the faint echo of Otis Redding's voice lingered, trying to fill a silent void lost long ago. This is just a side B “Shake” a poignant reminder of the end of the road ahead if we don’t act quickly decisively and the unwavering belief that a changes will certainly come.
Despite the hardships and adversities looming ahead, we must hold onto the belief that positive change is on the horizon. Let us draw strength from the long ago lyrical words of Sam Cooke, from the unwavering spirit of the Earth, and from the collective power of all beings and even humans to create a brighter future for ourselves and for generations to come.
If you missed In the Beginning Part I and In the Beginning Part II you missed several clues in the mysteries to be unveiled.
This tale is inspired by real New Orleans history, but some details have been spiced up for a good story. While we've respected the truth, a bit of creative license was used. Please note that all characters may be based on real people, but their identities in some cases have been Avatar masked for privacy.
A Word of Wisdom:
As you read, remember history and real life is a complex mix of joy, sorrow, triumph, and tragedy. While we've added a bit of fiction, the core message remains: the human spirit's power to endure, adapt, and overcome.
© Jerilee Wei 2024 All Rights Reserved.
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