Mardi Gras 2006: New Orleans Strikes Back
It's not often I'm moved to tears about things, but right now I'm a bit choked up.
As most of you know, today is Mardi Gras and like many people, I've felt really conflicted about the whole Carnival season. It's not that I didn't think it should happen- oh no. But I just can't shake the vision of dead bodies in the street or floating in the water or any of the horrors we saw during those dark days of Katrina- they are forever burned into my brain and the anger that I feel toward our government and our president, who traveled like nothing was wrong and was fucking strumming a goddamn guitar while American citizens needlessly died, will always rage inside me.
I love the holiday of Mardi Gras- the pageantry and the tradition and yes, the debauchery. Coming from New England, it was a real eye-opener to experience the joy of an entire city going all-out to let down its hair and have a good time. I would walk down the street and have strangers inviting me into their party for food and drink, people were friendly and go out of their way to make you feel welcome, especially when they learned you weren't "from there".
And oh the memories of Mardi Gras night in the Quarter. There was one year that I masqued. I had a traditional Arab gown and headdress and I wore it into the Quarter. As I moved through the wave of humanity that is the Quarter on Mardi Gras night, where you might get 1.5 million or so people jammed in a space about 15 blocks long and a block wide, I had people calling out to me "hey sheik!". I had women grabbing me to pose for pictures or to dance. I had people smoking me up. I had discovered one guy drinking Labatts oil cans and was surprised to see a Canadian beer in a form that I had never seen growing up in NH. I buttonholed the guy and he directed me to a small liquor store a block over from Bourbon St. I went in and bought myself one and went back to the madness. During the course of the night I had random strangers walking up to me and handing me more oilcans and I knew for a fact there was only 1 little place to get them. For one night I was the Sheik of Bourbon Street.
And oh the Mardi Gras parties. From the time we would arrive on Friday until midnight Tuesday, it was one prolonged bout of craziness with damn little rest for the wicked. We had our rounds of parties, with Ben hosting Saturday's Endymion party, Joy hosting Sunday's Bacchus party, and Tammy hosting Monday's Orpheus party. On Mardi Gras day we would roll out of bed and head down to PJ's coffee shop near Commander's Palace for a frozen margarita breakfast and food. Then it was over to St Charles to catch Zulu, Rex, and the truck parade. Back home for a quick nap and then hike the few miles into the Quarter and begin celebrating in earnest.
Since my sister moved away, I haven't been to a Mardi Gras. It's different to go down as a tourist, as opposed to taking part in the neighborhood celebrations. It's also very expensive. So I haven't been back.
I was tempted to go back this year, but finances intervened. That and.... with such a dark cloud hanging over the festivities, I wasn't sure how I would react.
I sat down to write all this out and went online to NOLA.com to see how things have been going down there and I read some of the stories and then read one of the editorial columns and that's what really got me and got me hard.
The folks down there- the real ones- are a breed apart. This editorial captured that in a way I can't and it explained not just how but why Mardi Gras had to happen this year. I read it and I got both choked up and laughed. Mardi Gras is not just a silly holiday but an expression of the heart and soul of the city. And this year, the spirit may be torn and tattered, but it's still there, a bottle of Abita in its hand and a big ol pile of boiled crawfish on the table. There will be mouring for those lost, but there will also be a celebration of what survived.
And with that I raise my bottle of Abita and instead of the usual laissez les bon temps roullez, instead say here's to those who passed and here's to those who remain, long live New Orleans.
Tags: Mardi Gras 2006 Katrina French Quarter resident anger Bush
As most of you know, today is Mardi Gras and like many people, I've felt really conflicted about the whole Carnival season. It's not that I didn't think it should happen- oh no. But I just can't shake the vision of dead bodies in the street or floating in the water or any of the horrors we saw during those dark days of Katrina- they are forever burned into my brain and the anger that I feel toward our government and our president, who traveled like nothing was wrong and was fucking strumming a goddamn guitar while American citizens needlessly died, will always rage inside me.
I love the holiday of Mardi Gras- the pageantry and the tradition and yes, the debauchery. Coming from New England, it was a real eye-opener to experience the joy of an entire city going all-out to let down its hair and have a good time. I would walk down the street and have strangers inviting me into their party for food and drink, people were friendly and go out of their way to make you feel welcome, especially when they learned you weren't "from there".
And oh the memories of Mardi Gras night in the Quarter. There was one year that I masqued. I had a traditional Arab gown and headdress and I wore it into the Quarter. As I moved through the wave of humanity that is the Quarter on Mardi Gras night, where you might get 1.5 million or so people jammed in a space about 15 blocks long and a block wide, I had people calling out to me "hey sheik!". I had women grabbing me to pose for pictures or to dance. I had people smoking me up. I had discovered one guy drinking Labatts oil cans and was surprised to see a Canadian beer in a form that I had never seen growing up in NH. I buttonholed the guy and he directed me to a small liquor store a block over from Bourbon St. I went in and bought myself one and went back to the madness. During the course of the night I had random strangers walking up to me and handing me more oilcans and I knew for a fact there was only 1 little place to get them. For one night I was the Sheik of Bourbon Street.
And oh the Mardi Gras parties. From the time we would arrive on Friday until midnight Tuesday, it was one prolonged bout of craziness with damn little rest for the wicked. We had our rounds of parties, with Ben hosting Saturday's Endymion party, Joy hosting Sunday's Bacchus party, and Tammy hosting Monday's Orpheus party. On Mardi Gras day we would roll out of bed and head down to PJ's coffee shop near Commander's Palace for a frozen margarita breakfast and food. Then it was over to St Charles to catch Zulu, Rex, and the truck parade. Back home for a quick nap and then hike the few miles into the Quarter and begin celebrating in earnest.
Since my sister moved away, I haven't been to a Mardi Gras. It's different to go down as a tourist, as opposed to taking part in the neighborhood celebrations. It's also very expensive. So I haven't been back.
I was tempted to go back this year, but finances intervened. That and.... with such a dark cloud hanging over the festivities, I wasn't sure how I would react.
I sat down to write all this out and went online to NOLA.com to see how things have been going down there and I read some of the stories and then read one of the editorial columns and that's what really got me and got me hard.
The folks down there- the real ones- are a breed apart. This editorial captured that in a way I can't and it explained not just how but why Mardi Gras had to happen this year. I read it and I got both choked up and laughed. Mardi Gras is not just a silly holiday but an expression of the heart and soul of the city. And this year, the spirit may be torn and tattered, but it's still there, a bottle of Abita in its hand and a big ol pile of boiled crawfish on the table. There will be mouring for those lost, but there will also be a celebration of what survived.
And with that I raise my bottle of Abita and instead of the usual laissez les bon temps roullez, instead say here's to those who passed and here's to those who remain, long live New Orleans.
Tags: Mardi Gras 2006 Katrina French Quarter resident anger Bush
posted by Stevie Z at 7:17 PM
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