Another example of the Big Easy's genius for inventing bioregional religions, and proof of my adage that everything you've ever heard about New Orleans is true. Jack the Tutu Man is a living, breathing character, a social worker by day and watermelon priest the rest of the time. Oh, and he's also one hell of a Cajun dancer. Still another hobby is running marathons, which is how he started wearing tutus. Somewhere along the line, he started doing in watermelons at the end of the race, with a samurai sword that dangles menacingly from his belt.

It's a classic New Orleans ritual, like Mardi Gras or jazz funerals, in that there's really no difference between the actor and the audience, the dancer and the dance. If you haven't joined in, you've missed the point.

The watermelon chant, faithfully reproduced in this song, is an old street vendor's call, lifted from the pages of that folklore treasury, "Gumbo Ya-Ya." It builds in intensity as the procession winds around, culminating in what the Greeks called catharsis - a climactic moment of release and terror that's shared by the whole group. They say the tradition of Greek tragedy evolved out of older rituals of sacrifice. Christians are no strangers to the idea, either, especially if you're a strict Catholic who thinks he's drinking real blood and eating real flesh. I'll stick with watermelon.

When I moved to Texas, Jack asked that I take the ritual along, and when the time was right, I did. It's found a home at the Kerrville Folk Festival, where I lead one every Sunday afternoon, right after the church service. I knew we'd arrived the day an unknown celebrant ran up to the circle, knelt and offered up a second watermelon for sacrifice. Wanna spill some seed?

The Watermelon Sacrifice Well, if you're goin' down to New Orleans, There is a thing that you ought to see. It's on Thursday nights in summertime, At a bar called the Maple Leaf, Where everybody is a-dancin' and a-whirlin' and a-twirlin' To the music of a Cajun band. But when the band takes a break at midnight, That's when things get out of hand. CHORUS That's when they come on down, Meet Jack the Tutu Man. He is the Tutu Man For all of New Orleans, And if you see him dance, And if you see him shake, He is the greatest sight you've ever seen. And everybody knows, When Jack is back in town, It's time to party down And put the keg on ice. And if the night is right, And if the moon is light, He do the watermelon sacrifice. He do the watermelon sacrifice. Now Jack, he wears a bright pink tutu. It really drives the ladies wild. He's got a watermelon in his arms That he cradles like a baby child. All the dancers gather back behind Jack, And they swing in a second line. And they sway this way, and they sway that way, And they sing these words in rhyme. They sing, "Watermelon, watermelon, red to the rind. If don't believe it, just pull down your blind. I sell to the rich. I sell to the poor. I sell to the lady standing in that do-o-or, In that do-o-or." Now all the dancers make a circle, out in the street, And they lick their lips and laugh. While Jack jumps around like Jean Lafitte, They are thinkin' of the fatted calf. Now, Jack, he sets it down on a cloth on the ground, And he lifts his sword up high. Then he howls just like a hurricane And the watermelon pieces fly. There's a piece for me and a piece for you, And everybody eats their fill. Then the band strikes up "Big Mamou," And we dance all night until.

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