How Ya'll Are?

Most Americans remember Justin Wilson as the humorous host of a long-running Cajun cooking show hosted by PBS, a pioneer and innovator in cooking shows. Arriving on television a decade, or so before Emeril or Rachel Ray, he helped change our perception of chefs performing in that media. With Mardi Gras in full swing in Louisiana, it is time we recognized his immense cultural contribution to this country.

Before Justin Wilson became a celebrity chef with his own television show, he was a very successful stand-up comedian. He was also a great Cajun cook and combined these two diverse talents to create a humorous and entertaining performance rather than just another dull – at least for most of us - “dump and stir” cooking show.

The Food Network began in 1993 and eventually - and quite successfully - changed the dry and dull cooking show into engrossing entertainment. They did this by hiring great chefs that also had the talent and personality to turn their cooking segments into highly entertaining television episodes with millions of viewers. Justin Wilson was, at least in my mind, the prototype for today’s culinary superstars such as Emeril, Rachel and Bobby Flay.

I had never seen Justin Wilson perform in person, even though he had twenty or so comedy albums in circulation and was a legendary performer in Louisiana. A newspaper article helped change that for me. I was a partner at the time with longtime friend John K. John, like me, was from the south, and a fan of Justin Wilson’s humor. He, also, had never seen a live performance of the Cajun comedian. When we noticed a small article almost hidden in the back pages of the Daily Oklahoman, that all changed.

The article said that Justin Wilson would be performing at the local clubhouse of the Fraternal Order of Police. This event was not open to the public, only police officers invited. John and I decided to sneak into the performance.

Waiting until the show had started, we slipped in the backdoor of the FOP clubhouse. The place was crowded with police officers and I don’t mind telling you that my rear end was more than a little puckered. The large room was dark and crowded, people standing shoulder-to-shoulder to see and hear the show. We had a few stares in our direction as we slipped through the crowded room and found an empty spot against one of the walls.

Justin Wilson’s performance was great and well worth our risk – at least considering that we managed to slip back out the back door undetected before the overhead lights came on. The mood of the crowd was jovial - everyone dressed in their street clothes and off the beat for the night. Still, John and I breathed sighs of relief as we drove away, neither of us thinking about what might have happened if someone had asked who we were.

Justin Wilson was an educated man, an engineer, but he maintained a thick Cajun accent during his performances. He would ask the audience “How ya’ll are?” and like Emeril’s trademark “bam,” Wilson would always say “I gar-on-tee.” Considering the consequences of sneaking into the FOP hall to see the comedian, our actions were probably stupid and juvenile. Still, realizing now that it was probably our only chance of ever seeing Justin Wilson in concert, the risk was worth it. And that I gar-on-tee!

Gondwana