On my friend Paul (1966-2025)

Quick thoughts on a great man • Posted Jan 28, 2025

Hey, putting some thoughts down about Paul “Pableaux” Johnson, Christi’s and my friend for 30 years who knew just about everybody — definitely had a kind word for Everybody — and just was a wonderful guy who commanded the attention of any room without also being commandeering. A real skill. 

Taken far too soon at 59, Paul suffered a fatal heart attack Sunday, January 26, in New Orleans doing what he loved: photographing a second line [parade].  

An accomplished photographer and writer, Paul was always Other-oriented. Always followed his muse. He never had a boss.

In writing, he had a distinctive voice — that rare gift where his ideas in print matched his speaking voice precisely – every word on paper sounded exactly like Paul talking.

He made sure to close every interaction with, “Love ya, brother.” And you knew he meant it. 

Paul was a guy who loved life, hard. Didn’t want to be corporate (sometimes to a fault: could have made more money with his talent, but it was never about that). Didn’t care to compete, I think would be the way to say that. 

He did so many interesting things —in 2023 aboard ship off the UK isles, and this past Fall in India — and he wanted to share those experiences with you.

In fact, his photography was to be recognized sometime soon by the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities. True to form, he was humble about this when we last spoke, one week ago today.

His touring ‘Red Beans Roadshow’ (he’d take over a restaurant and create a big red beans/rice dinner for patrons in places like Atlanta, Nashville, Knoxville and Oxford) was thriving again, post-COVID. He told me he had completed 79 “shows” across 44 different cities. And he was excited about bringing it back to Texas next.

His red beans/rice “foo-yays” in Austin (with sometimes 150 people) helped Christi and me meet many friends right after we had relocated from Chicago. And you never knew who’d be there. A day or two after one of them I said to Paul, “Hey, who was that James McMurtry-lookin’ mofo?”

“James McMurtry.”

He’s the undisputed champ of knowing people.

Paul’s gift was for meeting people… and then later, connecting them. I am certain the memorials for him both in NOLA and here in Austin will be packed, he knew so many.

It would be fascinating if somehow all who knew Paul and loved the guy could be counted — the number would be staggering, he touched so many lives.

Although he had relocated to Nawlins years ago, Paul visited Austin frequently. And whenever you were out with him here, you could count on running into someone he knew.

Had a little concept that Paul enjoyed, something I mentioned to him that first night we met, over dinner at Rebecca’s house.

Everybody has the following feeling when they meet Paul — and on that night I didn’t know it yet, but said to him, “It feels like we were destined to meet.” 

And I have this goofy notion I’ve always held, which is that maybe the universe has a smallish number of categories of ‘types of personalities.’ Maybe.

I threw out a number to Paul across the table. I said: 

“Maybe there’s only 11 types of people and you’re a Seven. And I’m also a Seven, and maybe part of being Sevens is that we just kind of find each other.” 

And he thought that was great (or at least pretended to) and from that time on, occasionally he would remind me: 

Us Sevens gotta stick together!

So to all the sevens reading these words:

Here’s to Paul Pableaux Johnson. Us Sevens gotta stick together.

Love ya, brother.

Comments are closed.