Jazz Fest for me holds many memories. For years I worked at the Fest as a paramedic. In those days the City of New Orleans EMS division held the contract to provide ambulance and prehospital care support for the Fest goers. Also on the grounds were medical tents staffed with nurses and some docs from local hospitals. They were there to have a ball and enjoy some sun. We were there to go into the crowds and get the injured or dehydrated moshers and other collective entities that found their way to the grounds.

NO moshing allowed

But for most hours of the Fest we weren't too busy. A scrape or bleeding leg maybe was the most we saw on pleasant days. Sometimes nausea from standing in too many food lines. But mostly we made our way around the track on the golf cart, my partner and I giving rides to pretty girls from stage to stage. It was fun, relaxing, the best day of work you could have. Music from every corner, food all around.

But every now and then we had to break out the boards and get into the middle of some mosh pit, back in the 90's that was very popular. We had to get in and find the trampled victim, but those damn moshers wouldn't stop moshing, so we had to basically mosh to the victim, the crowd cheering us on and thinking we were part of the festivities.


We prefer to second-line

Sometimes some moron that viewed us as a sort of "authority figure" that needed to be confronted would push and shove and get in the way. He would then be joined by five or six of his anarchist friends. My partner Brett had a pretty effective method for dealing with this. He would swing his flashlight around five or six times, making contact with a few jaws. Once a perpetrator fell, he would step on his nuts until the screams made the crowd pull back. The only drawback to the method was it created another "patient" we had to deal with. Brett would utter unimaginable phrases of threatening behavior to the woeful victim on the way to the medical tent. Most of the time the mosher would just leave, refusing care "against medical advice".


Note: NOT moshing. Example for instructional and illustrative purposes only.

Those were fun days. Now, much more mellow and unable to take on 6 moshers at once any longer, I am a mere pedestrian in the fray of Jazz Fest. But it is a great role, one I relish every year. And thank the gods that Moshing is a lost art. I did my share in the 90's, but it is like the wave at football games. A dying expression.

ok- rizzo