– I woke up for the first time in years feeling ready to go on Fat Tuesday rather than, the typical, “Oh, I don’t know how I’m going to do this” cruddy hangover notion. I was ready for greatness!
– As always it took us way too long to get ready for the Golden Traipse. Minor costume finishing and make-up always takes longer than we think. There are too many details that take up too much time. “What’s the hurry, we have all day to party!” my wife says but I don’t know. Kids got all day to open presents on Christmas day but they still do so as soon as possible right?
– Posed for this picture.
– We managed to get everyone loaded in ferry shuttles our neighbors generously provided and got over there. However, I lost my hand-painted tambourine so my music making would be a little less this year. There is a long story about how its being left at the house depended exclusively on a particular home inspector from 2005 but I don’t need to get into it.
– Kids stared at my costume transfixed. Also, I was losing plumage. Amount of costume failure must always be factored in.
– We walked down costume and as always, I bid adieu to any chance of seeing Rex or Zulu. It started by oversleeping and then developed into a real tradition. To this day, I have never seen any part of Rex and only saw a few moments of Zulu from a hotel window.
– I immediately began taking photos of people with the “petals of rejoicing” flower I carried with me and the whole set is here.
– Posted up on the first block of Decatur at Attiki and witnessed a mounted Serpas roll by.
– In the bar, I fashioned a noisemaker from some Mardi Gras beads, a Pabst Blue Ribbon can and duct tape. Saved by found objects!
– Began the traipse down Royal where it didn’t take long to encounter the raucous Krewe of Ragnarok composed of some friends and fellow artists who, and I aint even trying to be hyperbolic, made the greatest walking Krewe float ever, so far, replete with girls in cages, confetti canons and trays full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
– We of course had to go by Jackson Square where Romy and I posed for this picture in the spot where we got engaged.
– At the Golden LOantern I experienced an ugly incident where a girl was passed out on the ground surrounded by people concerned about her and as Romy was calling the EMTs a guy with a fake penis came by and rubbed it on her face prompting a pushing match from a few ladies that were there who he threw beer on and yelled, “Go back to Kenner.” (I love it when people lead with their stereotypes) Though an ass-kicking was surely deserved at this point, as I am learning more and more recently, there are many things that are utterly douchbaggy but not illegal but there are many responses which are justified but illegal. I could have been the one in OPP on Fat Tuesday in a head dress and loincloth. So we left. I should have snapped a picture. Oh well. At least it wasn’t even close to the worst thing that happened this Mardi Gras.
– We posted up at the R-Bar and danced in the sun, drank more copious amounts of domestics, ate cookies, hollered at passers by, helped some people navigate the crowd in their car and made our way down to Frenchmen.
– I was able to use the PBR noisemaker at Frenchmen and Royal in a very tribal music making session that I seem to recall only small amounts of.
– Then Mollys, then Pirates Alley, then the Moonwalk, then the ferry, then a walk through the Point, then bed. Stuff happened and I recall it being fun.
– Wednesday morning I normally have that, “Wait, it’s over?” but it was stronger this year. I blame the teetotalism. Of course the alternative is to destroy myself more next year. Not sure which is worse. A three day recovery or a lingering sense that all was not done that could have been done. And Jazzfest aint the same. At least in a year when Arcade Fire aint there.