Throw Me Something, Mister, Even If It's Just a Cabbage

Before moving to New Orleans, I had only been to one parade in my whole life.  I think.  I can't actually remember if I saw my sister march as a cheerleader down State Street in Madison or if I saw photos of her marching.  I kind of think it was the latter, because it was always so difficult for me to get back up to Madison when I was in college.  The only thing close to a parade that I had been to were small protest marches where we walked and chanted around the capitol building.  That's not really a a parade though, cuz people didn't prepare floats or anything.  Once and a while you would see some really dedicated bicyclist who would decorate their bike or a tricyclist who put his friend with a drum in the rear basket.  But protests don't happen because people are happy.  And businesses didn't exactly associate with them.

Parades down here are a big deal.  People set their chairs out 24 hours ahead of time to mark off their spot for watching the parade go by.  (I struggled writing the previous sentence, because people don't really "watch" a parade pass; there is a lot of interaction between krewes and parade-goers.)   For Endymion (en-DIM-ee-in), which "rolled" past our house, people camped out on the neutral ground (median strip) for a day and half before anything was scheduled to happen.  People were out there with tents, mini-grills, chairs, and yellow tape to mark their

 territory.  We even got an email from one of our neighbors asking if anyone was available to secure territory the night before the parade for a while.  They also set up ladders, as you can see in the photo, so that shorter people (namely children) can get a view of what's happening on the street.  Many people build special sitting boxes on top of the ladders for their kids to sit comfortably.

A few hours before a parade starts rolling, vendors on wheels sell everything you could ever want from the fair: hot pizza, peanuts, popcorn, cotton candy, crazy hats, gigantic beads, neon glowing necklaces, and feather boas.  People mill about, kids toss footballs or frisbees, and lots of cops stand idle.  Porta-potties dot the streets here and there, but most of them are locked.  I'm not really sure why.  Churches and businesses charge to use the restrooms, but if you know someone along a parade route, you can use their bathroom.  

You know the parade is about to start coming by when the caravan of utility trucks and a paddy wagon come down the street.  The first utility truck has a very high do-hickey on it that measures the height of things along the route.  I'm not sure what they do if they encounter something too low--chop it down?  Some of the floats are pretty tall, so they have to double-check that stuff.  After the big trucks come the Shriners.  They often stopped right in front of us, revved their motorcycle engines loudly, and (sometimes) threw beads at the good people.  

Parades always have themes and one krewe hosts a parade, so a krewe could be around 600 people.  (The exception to that is Krewe du Vieux which has a bunch of sub-krewes, but Krewe du Vieux is an exceptional parade on so many levels, and I shan't discuss that here.)  On Valentine's Day, we saw the Krewe of Pontchartrain roll with "Can You Name that Love Song?"  In addition to the regular beads, they threw out love-themed beads, plush flowers, plastic cups, frisbees, and footballs.  Oooh!  One of my favorite things people throw are called doubloons (DUH-bloons) which are big, aluminum coins.  They make a lovely sound when they hit the ground.

Here are some of my favorite floats from Mardi Gras.

All the floats have their own title.  This is is called "Healthcare by Dr. Frankenstein."

This is called "Send in the FEMA Clowns."

People make jokes about anything here.  It lightens the mood of everything.  This is called "2009 Financial Forecast: GRIM!"

I liked the daytime parades because they were less crowded and you were more likely to get more throws.  The nighttime parades were cool in other ways.  The first people to roll by were the flambeau carriers.  They are volunteers who carry lighted torches of a sort.  Back in the days before electricity, this is how parades were lit up at night.  I saw both the traditional kerosene torches and the modern-day torches that looked like really big music stands held up above the person with a propane tank sitting on backpack frame.  I liked the kerosene ones the best, because they were more decorative and less industrial looking.

Since they are volunteers, people give them tips.  I guess you're supposed to throw nickels at them, but I felt silly throwing coins at them when they were obviously working hard carrying around a large flame, so I handed them the coins directly.

The floats at night are awesome.  Harry Connick, Jr. started his own krewe, the Krewe of Bacchus (BOCK-us).  He also wanted a special float for his parade one year, so Blaine Kern, one of the larger float makers in the area, took 2 years to make the first float with fiber optics.  I saw it at Blaine Kern's Mardi Gras World and it is beautiful.  It's three cars of floats and a huge dragon with lovely colors.  I didn't get a picture of it because nighttime photos rarely turn out without a tripod.  Kyle did manage to get a decent picture of the train at the end of the parade.  When it passed by, I thought was the never-ending train.  It was great!  All these throws raining down on you forever and ever.  Aaaah....

Mardi Gras day has a ton of parades.  The most famous two are Rex and Zulu.  The original King Rex declared the Mardi Gras colors as purple, green, and gold.  They each have a meaning.  Purple stands for justice, green represents faith, and gold signifies power.  Zulu was the first racially integrated krewe.  I've also heard it was the first all-black krewe.  In any case, they celebrated their 100th year this year, so their parade was highly anticipated.  We saw Zulu from a distance, because by the time it rolled around (har har, forgive the pun), we were so paraded out.  We hung out mostly in the French Quarter and watched the marching clubs go by.  They basically would walk around the Quarter at random, stop their parade at a bar, have some drinks, and then start up again.  We saw the Krewe of Elvises (KOE), Pete Fountain's Half-Fast Walking Club, and the Society of St. Ann.  These groups walk right up to you and hand you throws.  It's very laid-back compared to the super-krewe parades.

As you saw in my previous post, marching bands are also a big element of parades.  I loved listenting to them as they went by.  Wave after wave of music would sweep over your ears, enveloping you in an ocean of music that lifted your spirits so high you could fly.  Marching bands from all over would play: Army, Navy, all sorts of high schools.  I saw one band at every parade we attended!  Parade routes are miles long (one was at least 7 miles) and those kids only got one day off before they had to go back to school!  

Parades aren't limited to Mardi Gras.  This weekend there were several for St. Patrick's day.  We made it to one, despite being heavily rained on and getting a flat tire while biking to the parade (we are serious parade-goers!).  We had heard that people throw cabbages and wanted to experience this for ourselves.  Let me tell you, it was a little scary!  Not at first, but once you get hit with a cabbage, no matter where it is on your body (I got hit on my left pinkie finger), you start to be verrrrry aware of what is flying off that float.  After about 45 minutes, we decided we'd had enough.  It was pretty nice; we walked away with lots of beads, a couple fake flowers, a miniature doll, a couple cups, 4 cabbages, and one cucumber.

I really hope y'all can come down for a parade in the future.  Like with most cultural events, there is so much more I want to say, but cannot possibly squeeze it into a single blog post.  I could write a whole book about my first Mardi Gras experience!  But really, you must experience this for yourselves.  Scientists predict that New Orleans could be right along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico 50 to 100 years from now, so time is of the essence!  In the meantime, I recommend checking out this website, because I'm sure you have a lot of questions that Professor Carl Nival would love to answer.