Song of Unquenchable Desire

New Orleans (and the rest of southeast Louisiana) has always tolerated life with a sense of an acceptable level of tragedy, knowing that each year, some hamlet would flood or a shrimp boat would sink or 500 more residents would be murdered or several more politicians would be indicted but seldom convicted or that someone's favorite restaurant would close or that the school board would find new ways to deny our students the education they deserve or another legendary musician would pass on to the next Big Gig.

All of those, individually and sometimes collectively, were always all bearable...and often were the very things that allowed us to see all the other extraordinarily beautiful treasures around us, even if it was the simple, earnest hello from another local as you passed them on the street. It took me far too long to get over my initial reaction to that--you would never greet someone so idly, so carelessly - especially a stranger - in my former life in New England, without first counting the cost or benefit. For the longest time, I was sure that people were "smiling in my face, but peeing in my cocktail."

I could not have been more wrong.

It is exactly that predisposition of locals (and those who eventually become locals) to engage the rest of the world, to invite y'all to nothing more than a passing pleasantry and make the day the slightest bit better for it.

It is qualities like this, and the desire to take care of each other and every single person who ever sets foot in our fair city, that reassure me that there will always be a kind of Mardi Gras every year, even though it will almost but not quite entirely seem like something I remember...and that the word "debris" will take on other layers of meaning, but will eventually once again become associated with blissfully messy, gut-churning po'boys...that I will marvel at how azure blue the sky is over all the rooftops and think how very lucky I am that the city picked me to live there.

To be sure, for now there is great disquiet in New Orleans, but there is also great desire...is it really any coincidence that the word "Desire" can mean so many different things to so many people on one day, and the all the same thing the next?

One day, the desire will give over to pride - that we did it ourselves. We were here, putting it all back together, rebuilding homes and lives, making new ways, shoring up old ones, making festivals happen, loving our friends...and living.

Truly living.

Come Hell or High Water...

In 1971, Follies opened on Broadway - a hugely ambitious show, revolving around the reunion of a follies cast (akin to Ziegfeld) for one last concert before their old theatre is leveled and turned into a parking lot.

One of the best numbers in the whole show - the big showstopper, if ever - is "I'm Still Here." Over the years, this song has been sung by the likes of Yvonne DeCarlo, Nancy Walker, Carol Burnett, Shirley MacLaine and Ann Miller - it's like winning the theatre fag lottery!

The song is replete with historical and cultural references and has been adapted time and again...and now I've stuck my hand into it to muddy the waters further. I hope I haven't done too much damage to one of my favorites.

So, with all apologies to Stephen Sondheim (along with my utmost admiration):

Good times and bum times,

We've seen them all, and by gosh...

We're Still Here.

Mardi Gras, one day...

Next day it's FEMA and Bush.

And we're here...

We made it through Katrina & Rita too,

Gustav and Ike both really blew.

We got through all of last year,

And we're here.

We've gotten through, "Hey, buddy! Why don'tchya just move away?"

Gee, that sure helps a heap.

Or better yet, "Why are you rebuilding anyway?"

Oh, Senator, go take a leap!

Fresh paint on one home,

One home stands vacant and bare.

But we're here.

One day, it's State Farm,

Next day, we dance without care...

And we're here.

We've had the best, and seen the worst,

Stayed through Katrina - the levees burst.

Come Hell or high water, and we're here...

Lord knows, at least we've been there...

And we're here.

We're still here...

Yes, we're here...

For my Dear Friend

Someone is heading to New Orleans...that is, if she can ever get home from TN.

And I have a gift for her.

Shiny gift.

Pretty.

Glass Beads.

Decades ago, glass beads were all that the Mardi Gras krewes through, but they were expensive and tended to shatter when they hit something too hard.

It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

But, now - in recent years, companies have started selling these beautiful glass beads again. Two years in a row now, I've been lucky enough to snag a couple pair of them at the Krewe d'Etat and Hermes parades.

And I have a bunch for SMID to pick from when she arrives in New Olreans in about 10 days - she says she's coming for work, but we know the real story...she's just coming for the glass beads.

And I can't wait to see her!

Wow...

It was one of the best - so many great costumes, so many old friends...

And the weather cooperated - partly sunny, warm, very breezy...and the rain held off until 9PM.

If you were still out in costume at that hour, you probably deserved to get wet.

This is the view from my front porch yesterday morning - as the Krewe of St. Ann gathered to start their traditional walk through the French Quarter. Please click it to see the details!

A trio of Fleur de Lis

Ice Queen and King

A little breezy!

The Sea Monkeys!

It was a marvelous day, and I am still sore for walking and walking and walking and posing and taking pictures and everything. But, oh...it was wonderful!

The Time for Butterflies (and other Lepidoptera)

"Does the Flap of a Butterfly's Wings in Brazil set off a Tornado in Texas?" Edward Lorenz, 1972

It's time for all those butterflies to get up off their branches and start flapping...

The weather reports for Mardi Gras are NOT looking great, and I figure if all those moths and butterflies start beating their wings, they can be the change (hey, I even managed to slip in some contemporary political rhetoric!) that saves our day...

(Dude, I drank so much nectar last night, I can't remember a thing!)

Heck, even the caterpillars can help out - grab the branch with several pairs of your back legs while bouncing on the leaf in front of you with your anterior, thereby creating a similar effect to your adult relations. I've seen Nature, I grew up on National Geographic...I know what you can do and I know where you live...

(Does this chrysalis make me look fat?)

Chance of Thunderstorms, 40% Chance of Precipitation...and yes, for all you Glass-Half-Full People out there, that means there a 60% Chance of No Precipitation.

OK, everyone - start flapping on Three - you, too, Mr.-Moth-Who-Thinks-He-Can-Hide-From-Us-By-Blending-In-With-The-Tree-Bark! We see you...

One, Two, Three!

That Guy, and Other Stuff

Happy Carnival, everyone! This is a wacky week - we locals still have to go to work like everyone else around the world - and having to do it with a couple hundred thousand visitors roaming the streets in various states of inebriation can be a challenge.

And woe is the person who parks on the wrong side of a parade route if you have to drive anywhere else that day - those streets may be closed off for 8 hours at a stretch...

I love my friends - we have standing agreement not to let each other become That Guy.

That Guy is:

1. Usually drunk (or still drunk) during the before-noon daylight hours
2. Slightly stooped from wearing far too many beads for way too long
3. Often missing an article or two of clothing
4. Staggering dangerously close to traffic
5. Frequently heard bellowing vastly erudite things, such as "Woohoo!" and "Mardi Gras, Yea!" and that ever classic "Show me your t*ts!"

That Guy isn't necessarily in the wrong (although the last phrase is immensely offensive and not part of the native vernacular)...He's just so out of context, a full week before Mardi Gras...at 7 something in the morning...with people passing him on their way to work. Empathy extends to him, as we speculate how dreadful he'll feel when the hangover hits him.

That Guy was spotted in recent years, a week AFTER Mardi Gras, at Audubon Park (that's about 6 miles from the French Quarter, shirtless, heavily beaded and "Woohoo"-ing.

It was just sad.

And a little funny.

And obviously memorable.

Ah, Mardi Gras...

Oh, there's a costume to be worked on. Like all the best costume ideas I've had, it came way too close to Fat Tuesday (and while I was showering)! I just got a new toy (my shiny new Canon SK100IS!!) and thought I might just take this Mardi Gras off from costuming - yes, it's a verb. I could wander around, taking many gigabytes of photos...just a regular shutterbug.

Wait. That's It!

Shutterbug. Cheap Plastic shutters on the front. Wings. Antennae. Colorful top. Striped Legging. Comfortable footwear. And my Camera.

Simple, easy, inexpensive, adaptable to weather changes, uncomplicated for bathroom breaks, and doesn't hinder the act of drinking. It passes all the tests!!

I think we have a winner.

Now, let's just hope the weather cooperates. It's almost time! (It's supposed to storm later today and then again on Thursday...we consider this a kind of Pre-Penance so that we get spectacular weather next Tuesday.)

Mardi Gras Goes to the Dogs (As Well It Should!)

Ahem...my first Bloggy Haiku...and a few photos.

Perfectly playful,

bringing Joy to the masses;

Carnival canines

"Daddy, it's little cold out here..."

"Daddy says he lets me ride in here to keep me warm, but I know it's really so he can have both hands free for his beer. But that's OK..."

"I can't believe she put me in a cocktail dress before sundown.

I could just die!"

"Yes, we know we look like stuffed toys.

We get that all the time."

"I was going for that whole Temple of Doom thing,

but I got up this morning and the only

thing that fit was this old Neck Tutu.

I have got to lay off the King Cake."

These wonderful and very patient dogs took part in the Mystic Krewe of Barkus Parade yesterday - a yearly fundraiser for the Louisiana SPCA and a pack of other local animal resources. Each year, a King and Queen are crowned - usually after having been a Duke or Duchess in one of the preceding years. Also, the royalty for Barkus are traditionally dogs who have been adopted from the LA/SPCA. This year's theme for Barkus was Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Bark. Past themes include Joan of Bark, Lifestyles of the Bitch and Famous, A Streetdog Named Desire, The Wizard of Paws, Harry Pawter and the Sorcerer's Bone, A Fistful of Collars, and Saturday Bite Fever. Do you notice a trend?

I don't have a dog, but I get to spend quality time now and then with Dizzy (the handsome devil in the black fur coat below) - whose human companions (or My Monkeys, as Dizzy is fond of calling them) are my friends Virginia and Roger. Dizzy is more of a people-dog than a romping-with-other-dogs-dog, and will often step in at the Dog Park and assume the role of Hall Moniter - "Hey, not so rough there! Keep your paws to yourself, Jake! You better have brought enough toys for everyone!" Dizzy came to the parade, allowing his Monkeys to dress him in the Crawfish outfit, but he was much more interested in hanging close to Daddy. Forcing us to go to him, if we wanted to lavish attention on him. Which we did...Frequently. He's a smart one, that Dizzy.

Oh, and he calls me Uncle Monkey.

Couldn't you just eat him up with a spoon?

Happy Barkus!

I Am Mardi Gras (And So Can You!)

With apologies and credit to Stephen Colbert, I couldn’t help but steal/bastardize his awesome title. If you haven’t read this book, treat yourself to a copy – it’s a scream!

That being said, back to Mardi Gras:

This will be my 16th Carnival season as a resident of New Orleans. Several times each year, I get asked by people who don't know me if I "go to Mardi Gras."

I have a two stock responses for this question:

"Well...I don't have to go to Mardi Gras...Mardi Gras comes to me."

And that part is literally true. I live next door the business where one of the most fabulous walking parades on Fat Tuesday gathers and begins. I get to walk out on my porch with my coffee and the divine madness comes to me. Oh, and how divine!!

My other response usually comes out after a cocktail or two..."Darling, I don't go to Mardi Gras...I Am Mardi Gras!!"

And so can you.

Most of those years, I have costumed for Mardi Gras - from the absurd to the extravagant. There are many out-of-towners whom I only ever see in the days leading up to Mardi Gras, digging for hints of what I'll do this year to top the previous year's finery. I adore that kind of recognition.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I don’t run around the city in mask and sundry garments for weeks at a time. I understand how confusing this celebration is to anyone who’s never witnessed it. So, let’s start with a few clarifications to dovetail on Painted Maypole’s wonderful post last week.

Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday, Shrove Tuesday: This is the day before Ash Wednesday each year, the culmination of the Carnival Season, which begins on Epiphany, January 6th). As Ash Wednesday moves each year in accordance with the date of Easter (which in turn is dictated by the date of the full moon following the vernal equinox, explained very well here), Mardi Gras can fall anywhere from February 3 to March 9.

We good so far?

It’s a shame that so much of the fun and joy of Carnival has been tarnished by the antics and misbehavior of drunken tourists and college students – this celebration is so much more than flashing body parts on Bourbon Street. In fact, most New Orleans residents stay far away from that part of Bourbon Street around this time of year.

Parades: Once upon a time, before the floats outgrew the streets, parades rolled through the French Quarter – my home for most of those 16 years. These days, it’s only a handful of the Walking Krewes that actually parade the Quarter. Painted Maypole provided a great description of the parade atmosphere, which I have inserted here with her blessing:

The parades start immediately. As Mardi Gras grows closer the parades grow more frequent. With a short season, like this year (Mardi Gras is Feb 5th) the parade schedule is pretty packed from the get go. There are the huge parades in the city, pretty good sized ones in the suburbs, boat parades and truck parades, lawnmower parades and parades of kids pulling their wagons through the neighborhood. Everyone loves a parade, yes?

The floats are fairly interesting, but what sets parades here in New Orleans apart from anywhere else that I know of is the amount of STUFF that they throw… Going to the parades is an event. Often we gather with friends for a party before the parade, then walk to the parade route. We take coolers and food. We deck out in our Mardi Gras finery. Down in the city many families wear costumes.

Now, these parades are sponsored by the founding “krewe” – the organization that recruited members and put up the money to make the magic happen.

Not all krewes parade anymore – after an ugly, contentious time in the early 90’s, some of the older Mardi Gras krewes chose not to parade, but only have their Mardi Gras Balls. (The city passed an ordinance requiring all parading krewes to open their private memberships. This threw honest and unflattering light on the dismal state of race relations in Louisiana during the end days of the 20th Century. Look how well we're doing now...)

Also, there are only a few remaining Gay Mardi Gras Krewes (whose ranks were tragically decimated by AIDS) that have some of the most spectacular formal balls. Oh, the glitter! Oh, the sparkles! Oh, the girdles!

Have I lost you yet?

(For a wonderfully detailed history of Mardi Gras, please check out Arthur Hardy's Mardi Gras Guide.)

Throws: The scenes broadcast on the Travel Channel often feature beads showering the crowds - what you don't see are the dozens of other marvelous items that are hurles, tossed, lobbed, whatever. The list is seemingly endless - in addition to Beads (and the variety within beads is mind-blowing too - cheap plastic beads, grand ornate beads, oversized blinking beads, rubber ducky beads, body part beads, tiny glass beads, beads with krewe medallions, beads that play music or even speak, and on and on...), you may be so lucky as to catch (or have gingerly handed to you, depending on the object's heft):

Metallic medallions

Stuffed animals of every variety (Yes, PM, even Sharks!!)

Paper Crowns

Squishy skull heads

Bespangled shoes (pumps, to be more specific)

Ornate Coconuts

Panties (new, usually emblazoned with the krewe logo)

Bracelets

Garters

Moon Pies

Whistles

Glow Sticks

Fuzzy Dice

Plastic Dolls, Cigars, Spears, Cups, Frisbees, Crawfish, Alligators, Cockroaches, Hats, Dinosaurs, Swords, Skeletons, etc.

Masking: While I can think of no one who's ever been arrested for violation of this, there is a city ordinance allowing revelers to wear Masks ONLY on Mardi Gras, dawn to dusk, and no other day of the year. There is a long history of international notables coming to New Orleans to Masque, mingling with native and tourist alike in total anonymity. (Brooke Shields, post-Andre Agassi, Isabella Rossellini, Nick Cage, et al.)

There's just way too much to cover in one day, so later this week, I will tackle the Great King Cake Debate. Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Oh, and I will post actual photos of yours truly in costume!!