Last night, we went up to L.A., tagging along with Manny and Robin, who drove up there to watch a free performance of a Haitian group, the Tabou Combo, one of the most famous musical groups of the Caribbean, according to their website. It seemed to be true, since they were obviously very accomplished musicians, who attracted an enormous and enthusiastic audience filled with people of all sorts and ages.
The costumes alone were worth going for. One guy in front of us had a glow-in-the-dark metallic gold-tone suit with matching hat. It was a zoot suit type of style, with an extra long jacket, with huge lapels, and long long pants that fell over the shoes. He danced with a woman who was probably my age, but was dressed in 60s garb, a poor boy hat, macrame vest, and black tights. Not to mention the large hanging earrings that brought back bygone decades.
Dancers abounded. Dirty dancers particularly. One Latino couple did a sizzling dance off in a corner, while we all watched, fascinated. The music energized all of us. Though I do not dance, I could not keep still either, tapping my feet.
After the concert, waiting for the streets to clear, we walked down the block to gawk at Disney Hall and MOCA. I hardly know L.A., since there is no way I am driving up there, and R hates to drive there too. But Manny knows the town very well. I am glad of that, since I really enjoyed going.