One of the pleasures of living in Los Angeles is the Farmers Markets.  I’m spoiled by living in a city that has a fresh market every day, somewhere.  My favorites are the small one Monday mornings, because it’s walking distance from my place, and the big Sunday in Hollywood on Ivar.  I know others swear by the Santa Monica, but they live on the West Side.

The Sunday morning is a regular activity for me.  I wake up, have some coffee, and then with my neighbor Laura, or alone, I head off to market.  While I buy from the same farmers weekly – the fresh egg people, the juice man, the cheese and fruit sellers – I love walking its full length, looking at the brightly colored veg and passersby.  One of the best parts is the live musicians who perform, musics changing every twenty feet or so as you wander through; there is a jazz trio almost mid-way, just south of Selma, to whom I am particularly partial.

Not this past Sunday, but the Sunday prior, as we exited the market, I heard Jazz, but different from the trio, who mostly play standards.  This was more brass, more New Orleans, more “old time” (sorry), more Tom Waits.  This was special.  This was Petrojvic Blasting Co.

Horns.  Accordian.  Washboard.  Spoons. Joy!  They have an album that I can’t stop listening to. If you’re in the LA area they have two upcoming, free shows.