Grass-Roots Heritage : New Orleans Has More in the Way of Down-Home Culture but Orange County Is Catching Up. In a Couple Hundred Years . . .

In many ways, Orange County couldn’t be farther removed from New Orleans if it was on Pluto. For instance, in New Orleans there are dozens of great blues, jazz, rock and R&B; clubs within walking distance or a short ride from one another. It quickly becomes apparent that no place worth going is more than a $3 cab fare away.

Even without the bonanza of acts that trekked to the Crescent City specifically for last week’s 20th annual Jazz & Heritage Festival (another thing Orange County doesn’t have), New Orleans sees more great pop music in an average weekend than we get in a year.

But that’s to be expected: New Orleans, the Fertile Crescent of American music, has a couple of centuries’ jump on us as a hotbed of activity, culturally speaking.

Still, you can’t help but be overwhelmed at the bounty. In a single night--and a Sunday at that--I was able to see R&B; great Irma Thomas in one club, zip across town to see Charmaine Neville at Muddy Water’s, walk down the street to Jimmy’s and catch Cyril Neville & the Uptown All-Stars alternating with brother Art Neville and his band. From there, we hopped back to the 711 Club in the French Quarter to find old-time jazz crooner Al Broussard at the piano, jauntily spinning out requests as daylight crept up Bourbon Street.

Back here, the only thing you’re likely to find hopping all night long on a Sunday is the popcorn machine at 7-Eleven.

Still, what struck me this year when I went to New Orleans for the fest weren’t the glaringly apparent differences. For the first time, I started noticing some similarities.

And not just the easy ones, like the omnipresence of corporate America a la Wendy’s, Burger King and Thom McAn.

One of the more pleasing parallels: I realized that the tough choices I faced there (“Hmm, do I go see Dr. John or Ironin’ Board Sam; John Hiatt or Katie Webster; Richard Thompson or Queen Ida?”) wouldn’t necessarily end once I got back home.

That’s a “problem” that didn’t exist even 5 years ago.

The planning calendar I carry has room for a dozen entries under each day, and periodically I find myself running out of room. Just this weekend I can point to no fewer than 36 events taking place right here in Orange County, and that doesn’t include a plethora of ongoing art exhibits.

The variety extends from some of the same musical folk I just saw in New Orleans--the Robert Cray Band at the Pacific Jazz Festival today at the Pacific Amphitheatre--to poetry readings, a performance of Benjamin Britten’s epic “War Requiem” at the Performing Arts Center and a performance-art presentation at the Newport Harbor Art Museum.

Sure, that doesn’t make us New Orleans. But at least we’re heading in the right direction.

At least one big difference remains, though.

Notice how upwardly mobile the vast majority of our cultural choices are? One of the greatest things about New Orleans is that, as the birthplace of jazz and all, it treats folk culture with the same respect as any of the so-called “high arts.” (Perhaps even more, if the financial difficulties plaguing the New Orleans Symphony in recent years are any indication.)

That distinction hit home during a rare lull that occurred only because a tornado knocked out one day of festival activities. That day, I hopped the Canal Street ferry--which must be the last free ride of its kind--over to Algiers on the opposite shore of the Mississippi River.

Despite its being a stone’s throw (well, for Dave Winfield maybe) from the hustle-bustle tourist haven of the New Orleans French Quarter and its nonstop night life, potpourri of restaurants, tacky souvenir stands and peep shows, Algiers is a world away.

In that respect, Algiers reminded me of Santa Ana, which also borders an area (Costa Mesa) where cultural opportunities abound. Furthermore, both Algiers and Santa Ana are cities with pockets of great beauty and some magnificent old homes located just blocks from neighborhoods that are decaying.

Searching for a homey neighborhood joint where I might find a decent plate of red beans and rice, I found instead countless “For Sale” or “For Rent” signs. Suffering a dearth of eateries or thriving businesses, Algiers is home--not coincidentally--to an equally large number of street-side liquor stores and neighborhood churches, each offering its own brand of escape, comfort and relief from the squalor.

On the half-hour, electronic bells of the Trinity Lutheran Church echoed Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” through deserted streets, sounding like the Good Humor Truck of Salvation.

It was precisely this sort of abject poverty that gave rise to some of the greatest music we have: blues, jazz and gospel. And here, we well might find parallels in the mariachi and conjunto music of Santa Ana’s Latino community, the bar-band blues of the struggling factory worker in Anaheim, the Southeast Asian folk music of thousands of Vietnamese immigrants in Garden Grove and Westminster.

Perhaps instead of working so hard to zone these sorts of neighborhoods out of existence, we ought to look to them for the non-materialistic riches they can offer. The presence of a “Salsa ‘89” festival today at the Orange County Fairgrounds is a perfect example because it places Mexican music, dance, food and other components of this community’s cultural soul in a well-deserved spotlight.

Let’s see more of that red carpet, so often reserved for 19th-Century classical European arts, extended to the grass-roots cultures of our own back yard, like they do way down yonder in New Orleans.

How about a good, earthy all-night blues bar for starters?