I just wanted to tell you a little story about those banana plants.

See, we didn’t have any when we moved here. And one day, many years ago (95? 96? Don’t remember), through a series of very fortunate events, I began listening to a musician by the name of Jumpin’ Johnny Sansone.

Johnny lived in New Orleans that Was, and I learned through the then-shiny-new internet (this was BG, or Before Google) that he was playing a joint called Vics Kangaroo Cafe. So I called up ol’ Johnny and said ‘hey, I’m a fan, and we’re coming to town to see you. Know of any good hotel rooms?’

He called me back a few minutes later and asked why we didn’t just stay at his place. So, we did. Now if he were a blogger I wouldn’t have thought twice about this, but since he was a musician (who I had shaken hands with exactly once) it seemed a little strange to just crash at his pad. But we drove out and had a blast and enjoyed some excellent hospitality (his wife was wonderful, too) and great food and tunes. And we stayed in the Jungle Room, which if I recall right was a futon on a screened in porch, and you had to walk around outside to the shower.

And they had these banana trees. They were everywhere, kinda like weeds. Johnny said we could take one, so we found a plastic bag and took it with us. And planted it.

And now, we have lots of them.