Mayhem

How does one even do Carnival on COVID? It's a citywide party people come to from all over town... all over the world, really.  They all stand in the street talking, eating, drinking, sharing with friends, family and strangers. If you're doing it right, you will see every single person you know at least once by the end of the season. Carnival is a social binder. But you're supposed to be isolating; "socially distancing" as we say now. You can't really make plans to see anyone. You can't have anybody over. You should probably just stay home.  Is Mardi Gras a marathon or a sprint?  How can one do either if you can't even catch your breath?

But what if your quarantine quarters just happen to sit a block or so off of the parade route?  Are you really going to just lay there all night when you can hear the drums outside? Wouldn't you be just a little bit tempted to bundle up, put on a mask, and oh so carefully creep up to St. Charles to take in a few moments from the other side of the street?

No, of course you should not do that.  You should stay your sick ass in bed until you get better. 

I did try and do that on Friday, though. Here's what it looked like. 

Yeah okay so you really can't see that well from back there. At least not when the marching units are going by. The floats came out okay, though.  Even the Oshun floats, although all I really saw of Oshun was the king and court stuff.  After that I had to go back in and take a break.

So here's something about having COVID, you might not have heard.  It really sucks. Even when the fever is gone, and even when your cough is mostly under control, the fatigue is still very freaking real. My only plan this evening was to walk a block and kind of stand around for a while.  But I couldn't even do that without going back in to rest and get warm.  Oh also it rained during Oshun (it always seems to rain on Oshun) and I wasn't going back out until that stopped. 

By the time it stopped, Cleopatra was already rolling. Looked like they had some kind of gem theme going. This float was Diamonds.

And this one was Turquoise

Oh and Lapis Lazuli

By the way, I don't think I'd noticed before now how much nicer my float pictures come out when I take them from this distance. Maybe not great for detail, but there's a sense of scale and balance to them this way. And you can see the crowd well.  Also I can still zoom in when I want and... oh my that doesn't look very safe!

Don't worry. Nobody fell off a float.  Not on Friday night, anyway. 

Here's what did happen. 

Entergy New Orleans blames a car striking a utility pole for the electricity failure during Friday night's Uptown Carnival parades.

Spokesperson Lee Sabatini said the car hit a pole on St. Charles Avenue at Terpsichore Street at about 9 p.m., darkening the river side of St. Charles as far as Prtania Street between Felicity Street and Andrew Higgins Boulevard. Almost 1,500 Entergy customers were powerless until 10 p.m.

Wait. Is that what actually what happened?  Witnesses differ.

Bc there was no car that hit a pole. After that report, I walked Terpsichore over to Prytania and then back across St. Charles to Carondelet. Everything was business as usual. Asked people on both sides if they’d heard a car hit a pole & no one heard anything like that.

— Candice, right? (@YesICandice) February 11, 2023

Ok, fine, then, people from the internet. Please tell us about whatever crazy conspiracy y'all are on about now before Elon shadowbans you or something. If it wasn't a car, then what?

Confetti cannon at erato appears to have hit a transformer. Saw it blow. We have no power now. Parade halted.

— @Sharney@mastodon.social (@sharney) February 11, 2023

Knocking out the power by shooting confetti from a parade float sounds like something out of a 60s TV Batman episode. It's plausible, though. Jefferson Parish has already banned metal confetti specifically because of this problem having come up in the past. Still, Entergy is out here saying it was a car accident that nobody saw. Why would they make something like that up? I mean, sure, we know they're super defensive about the fragility of their infrastructure and all but they wouldn't just lie about it, right?  I mean what if somebody had it on video?

Hi, I have footage of confetti cannon blowing transformer. pic.twitter.com/YFmKJaKP1Y

— ⚜️A. Ruffins⚜️ (@lifethrufiction) February 11, 2023

What if there were more than one video, even?  What would this story look like then?

A video shared with The Times-Picayune, by a person who asked to remain anonymous, shows what presumably is a float-mounted confetti cannon blasting toward utility lines on St. Charles Avenue during the Krewe of Cleopatra parade. The blast results in sparks flying and darkness descending on the area.

How much would that change Entergy's position on the matter?

Sabatini said a confetti cannon might have contributed to the power outage, because confetti made of Mylar can act as a conductor on power lines.

Oh okay the cannon "might have contributed." That's good. I might have contributed to paying my light bill this month. I'll have to check back on that too. I sure hope they don't cut me off in the meantime. (You know.. on purpose for once.) Maybe I should say something to my Congressman about this problem.  You think I can get his attention?  I mean I'm all the way in the back of the crowd and he's up there on that float. 

Troy's a West Bank guy so it figures he'd show up in the Alla (Algiers, la) parade. I'm an Uptown guy and even though this West Bank parade comes through my neighborhood now, I barely had the energy to stay out and watch it.  It looked like they were doing a festivals theme. But it was cold and I was already overspent. So I let the rest of it go and went back inside to collapse. 

On Saturday, I was even more determined not to overdo it. I found an oak tree root I could sit down on, conserve energy, and people watch. I can't really drink. And it gets lonely when you can't go into the crowd or really even talk to anybody. But I like to take in the scene, and listen to the music, and watch some of my favorite totems roll down the street.  

But first I had to watch this cop parade. Troy Carter was also in that. 

So was Susan Hutson.  At least her float was better than the one in Krewe du Vieux. 

Oliver Thomas was there too. He was on the Army float.  This made me think of Elvis Costello. 

Also, in the cop parade, the cops. 

Don't know how this affected their delicate deployment issues. Maybe this is why nobody could substantiate Entergy's "car accident" theory about the power outage. The cops who would have taken that report were getting ready to ride on the float?  Sad, if true. 

Anyway, I was low on energy again Saturday afternoon so I hung around just long enough to see the big catfish before I went back inside. Ordinarily I like to watch Pontchartrain and play the little fill-in-the-blank game with their float titles. I just couldn't do it this time. 

Like I said earlier, though, I don't feel like I'm participating in the ritual unless I am able to bear witness to certain of the idols presented for admiration by the throng. The catfish is one. The Sparta helmet is another. So I had to go back out.

Sparta.. or.. The Spartan Society, now, I guess.. was, like Oshun doing a kind of global festivals theme. 

But theirs was a little more esoteric. These floats depicted Carnival celebrations around the world and the music associated with them. So we got float titles like, "Maslenitsa - Hopak" and "Carnival-Danzon" or  "Ostatki-Polonaise" Also if you are wondering what the big reflective jacket looking aura is in these photos, it is a ghost. When you have to step back from the crowd to photograph Mardi Gras floats, it turns out that you can see ghosts. 

Anyway, shortly after this, I ghosted.  It was too cold and starting to get wet and, um, I had COVID so.. time to go in and rest.  Besides, it would be a while before Pygmalion showed up, anyway. Why was that?

After taking too wide of a turn at Jefferson Avenue and Magazine Street, the Pygmalion parade stopped for at least 30 minutes before resuming on Saturday night.

The krewe's seventh float, titled "Jester," hit a tree. The float then appeared to disconnect from its tractor trailer.

Killer trees! Here's what that looked like. 

Jester float hits tree. Everyone is okay. @wdsu #mardigras pic.twitter.com/ynW5k3QaDt

— Jake Kleinmahon, MD (@jakekleinmahon) February 12, 2023

It's absolute mayhem. 

@wdsu Rider falls off Pygmalion Jester float after it hits tree. pic.twitter.com/GnAIKxjHZj

— Jake Kleinmahon, MD (@jakekleinmahon) February 12, 2023

You could call the police but they all went by in a float earlier that afternoon. The trees must have known they had free rein too because it just kept happening. 

On Sunday afternoon, a somewhat similar incident took place, when the 43rd float in the King Arthur parade plowed into what apparently was the same oak branch.

A NOLA.com editor riding in the parade said the Big Bird head on the float hit the limb. She said a second tractor driver arrived and tried to complete the turn, but hit the limb again.

Noooo not Big Bird too!

How did this happen?  Don't they inspect the routes anymore?  Of course they do. I can vouch for this because I saw it with my own eyes too but many people reported observing crews on the street taking measurements. This guy from the city confirms that's, at least, what they were supposed to be doing. 

A city spokesperson, John F. Lawson II, said via email Monday said that the route had been “previously inspected leading up to parade start dates” and that floats had routinely made the turn in the past.

Lawson said that after Pygmalion, members of the Department of Parks and Parkways' Forestry Division “confirmed that the branch was outside of the clearance zone.” The branch, Lawson said, “was roughly 10 feet from the curb, leaving approximately 18 feet of roadway for the turns to be made.”

Obviously everybody did their job.  Only one explanation at this point. The tree did it on purpose. Time to face the consequences.

A twisting branch jutting from an age-old oak tree was rammed by two parade floats over the weekend, causing considerable damage to the floats — in one case, decapitating a large jester — and frustrating delays to the parades.

By Monday afternoon the fern-covered limb at Jefferson Avenue and Magazine Street had been cleanly removed by the city’s Parks and Parkways Department. The 25-foot-long, 9-inch-diameter branch was a safe distance from where floats were supposed to pass, according to City Hall, and shouldn’t have interfered with the turn in the first place.

Sorry, tree. But let this be a lesson. 

And for me too. Let it be a lesson to not go to Mardi Gras if you are sick with COVID.  I was so beat from just sitting outside for 45 minutes on Saturday that I couldn't make it out for Sunday at all.  I'd better be over this by Thursday at the latest. Otherwise, we might have to take it out on that tree I was resting on.

A little bit of fun's never been an insurrection

 

We are parking according to our own individual levels of risk aversion this year

These signs were eventually explained by the mayor, btw. Good luck figuring out what she means

I've been thinking a lot about the importance of rituals lately.  Actually let's call "lately" the last couple of years. Beginning around the time of 2020's Carnival of bad vibes and portents, and then throughout everything that followed that time, I think we've probably all become a bit more introspective spiritually.  Early on during that season, probably the first Sunday, (I have foggy memories) I received a talisman.

Surely the appearance of the jaguar, our city's adopted avatar of defiance in the face of oppression, was a sign.  Our spirit animal had come to give us strength in trying times. As it turned out we would need it. Carnival 2020 was a difficult tumult of bad scenes and bad vibes that played out under the shadow of a crumbled Hard Rock hotel, the husk of which still held the remains of victims trapped by its collapse. Throughout the season, the universe seemed to be signaling its disapproval.  The chaotic weather caused controversial cancellations and reschedulings of some of the season's main events. Not one but two parade goers were shockingly crushed to death by floats. The city was headed for a major reckoning over these events before the pandemic drew everyone's attention to even worse problems. 

I kept the jaguar around my neck through all of that.  Did it help?  Maybe. Valerio didn't stop the bad things from happening.  But that isn't how talismans work. Their magic is not so profane. We keep them close and observe their rituals for a higher purpose. They are objects of contemplation, inspiration or humiliation if necessary. The fable of Valerio is about our will to freedom and a warning of what happens when we are unprepared to win it. It also tells us that tragedies and ecstasies travel in each other's wake.  On Thoth Sunday, 2020, my bike ride back uptown after getting off the float took me through the Quarter. I go the long way around so that I don't have to cross over the parade route during Bacchus. As I passed near the Hard Rock sarcophagus, I stopped, clasped the jaguar figure around my neck and gave it a kiss.  The bad vibes Carnival 2020 was about wind down.  A few days later we would close it out watching a Rex parade titled "Omens and Auguries." 

Whatever it was we may have done wrong in 2020, the pandemic has forced us to wait a full two years before we've had a chance to break the spell. I have decided to treat this Carnival as more of a sacrament than a party. If we do it correctly, there will no doubt be some room for joy. But the fundamental focus is on performing the rituals. For me, thus far, this has meant paying homage to parade season's iconic totems as they roll down the street. I have dutifully visited and genuflected before the following:

 

 The Phunny Phorty Phellows streetcar

 

 

 

The fabulous Krewe Du Vieux

 

 

 

The enigmatic AllaGator 

 

 

 

The majestic Sparta helmet

 

 

 

And the mighty Pygmammoth

 

 

I have heard the rapturous sounds of the Southern University Marching Band leading the Krewe of Femme Fatale on a Sunday morning. I have been greeted by King Arthur.  I have taken communion a few times over in the form of consecrated moonpies handed down from the deacon riders.  I've met Elvis.

I even made my own king cake. 

 

 

A little bit, uh.. rustic looking, I guess. But home baking is more about the meditative process than it is about style. I'd never done this before and this seemed like the year to try. It's a simple recipe I can post it later. [Update: There it is!] The result wasn't as light and fluffy as your Gambino's or Randazzo's or what have you. But it also wasn't as dense and bready as Rouses so I think that's a success. And if we happened to exorcise any demons in the process, well, that's all the better.  There are still plenty more to face.  

 

The pall cast over 2020 still hasn't been satisfactorily vanquished. We never got to have the promised citywide discussion about parade safety. Instead the mayor and the police have made the summary decision to shorten most of the routes. The new routes emphasize only the most tourist-intensive parts of town and have been described as "ruinous for locals."

Many krewe members and parade goers said they have emailed and continue to email City Hall to request that their neighborhood parade continue without change.

“This whole plan is ruinous regarding Carnival for local residents and families,” said Richard Parisi, who has watched Thoth line up near his house for over 40 years. “Thoth is for locals more than for visitors — and this arrangement is going to ruin that.”

The Krewe of Thoth originally did not parade to Canal Street, Larson said. It was solely an Uptown parade until the early 1960s, when Mayor Chep Morrison requested the krewe extend its route to pass in front of his newly built City Hall.

Now, Larson said, the krewe is willing to go back to its roots and give up the downtown part of the route to keep Thoth on Henry Clay.

The city didn't take Thoth's offer to trade the downtown part of its route in order to keep its traditional pass in front of Children's Hospital and other uptown homes for "shut-ins."  No explanation was given.  Nor was it explained why similar favors were granted to Zulu and to Endymion each of which was allowed to maintain the unique traditional portions of their routes with minimal changes near downtown. Although, one could argue, in Endymion's case, that cutting out the Howard Avenue portion just makes sense given that it would take the parade by the troubled Plaza Tower. Why take the chance of anyone even having to think about a collapsing building during Mardi Gras this time around.  

It has been suggested by apologists for Cantrell and NOPD that the route changes are temporary. But there is little evidence for that in the actual statements made by either of them.

Officials stressed that these changes are temporary but did not say how much additional manpower the city would need to go back to the original routes.  

“If that traditional spot that you’re used to being on … has changed this year, just know that we will consider that again coming for 2023 and future parade years to come,” Police Chief Shaun Ferguson said. “But we must be real with what we have right now and work with the capacity in which we can to make sure that the city is safe.”

Meanwhile, the fix for 2020's other lingering issue could hardly feel any more temporary, or at least thrown together for the sake of expedience. The plan for avoiding a repeat of the horrific accidents that killed two parade goers last time out is to simply slap a little piece of netting along the gaps between tandem floats. 

In an interview earlier Wednesday, float builder Barry Kern said a City Hall representative asked him several months ago to design something to make tandem Mardi Gras floats safer. Kern, CEO and president of Mardi Gras World and Kern Studios, said he’s conceived a device that is “basically like a cargo net” strung between float segments on “heavy duty bungee cords.” The device, which is still being designed, will be translucent, flexible and “not super complicated,” he said.

Look, I really hope Kern's "not super complicated" solution is the right fit. I wasn't too happy with some of the more draconian ideas floated earlier such as barricading the entire route or having escorts walk along the floats to shoo people away. This idea preserves the experience much better. But is it actually any safer?  I saw a few of these over the weekend and I can see why some might doubt it. 

Probably the bright orange netting seen here during Cleopatra on Friday night...

 

 ...is a little bit better than the all black netting seen here during Sparta on Saturday night. 

At least at night, anyway.  Day or night, the thought also occurred to me that the netting might actually make the floats into more of a hazard if someone happened to get caught up in it.  Maybe that's unlikely.  I don't know. Just don't go tugging on it or trying to climb around like Spiderman while you're out there. I'll sleep better knowing you didn't. 

Anyway, that only covers matters of bad vibes left over from early 2020.  Since that time, new disturbances have arisen.  For example, one question on everyone's mind now: is there even such a thing as an ex-superkrewe? Or maybe the term is ex-so-called superkrewe.  We need a new word for this, whatever it is. 

NEW ORLEANS (WVUE) - This year will look different for the Mystic Krewe of NYX.

“We are rebuilding our sisterhood. We’re very excited about having a smaller group to just rebuild and restart and reconnect with each other,” said Julie Lea, Captain of NYX.

The dramatic decline in membership came after a controversial social media post by Lea at the height of the Black Lives Matter movement. Some NYX members even staged a protest, calling for her to resign.

In 2021, former riders sued Lea in civil district court claiming a list of accusations including improper use of krewe funds. Her attorney denied those allegations.

Take a spin through our archives following the NYXcapades over the years and ask us if we could possibly have seen anything like this coming.  NYX always struck us as some kind of scam. The overt racism is really just the last straw. Of course, one of the things you do learn in the multi-level marketing game is that, sometimes losing 3,000 of your nearest and dearest suckers is really the best thing that could happen to you.  At least that's what Julie says. 

In 2020, NYX staged its largest parade ever with 82 floats and 3,400 riders.

For 2022, the krewe will present 17 floats with 240 riders.

“It is a big change,” said Lea. “And I think what we’re finding just moving forward is, again, those personal connections. When you’re over 3,000... 3,400, it’s very hard to make the personal connections.”

“Even though we did it, and everyone was very friendly with each other, it was hard to get to know folks on a one-on-one.”

Really looking forward to making a few one-on-one connections with the NYX rump this Wednesday.  They're rolling with 7 percent of the folks they brought along on their last parade but the odds that any one of them might throw you a confederate flag have skyrocketed. 

As the newly self-appointed spiritual adviser to Carnival 2022, my guidance to you, in case this does happen, is to just let it drop.  Kick it away if you have to, like the woman at Gallier Hall says she did in this story. But if you happen to catch any confederate flags or "Lee Circle" beads or anything like that what you should not do is post them. Do not put them on Instagram and tag the mayor in for comment. Do not call Doug MacCash to manufacture some cheap NOLAdotcom content out of it. These are evil talismans. They are anti-Valerio. Cycling them up through the media only gives power to them and to the trolls who choose to wield them.  Just look at the curses already conjured by their cult.

Co-chair James Reiss III, a representative of the Rex organization, warned against the tossing of "illegal/political” throws, perhaps heading off incidents of recent years such as distributing Confederate flag beads or beads advocating the preservation of the Robert E. Lee monument in New Orleans.

Reiss cautioned against the overly enthusiastic tossing of throws at the Gallier Hall reviewing stand, where visiting VIPs gather. And he said bands should pause to perform at Gallier Hall for only 30 seconds.

Have we ever seen anything like this before?  In over a hundred years of these style of parades have we ever had an official warning from the city government (well, it's James Reiss so it's from the shadow government but close enough) that the "VIP"s are worried about being beaned by "overly enthusiastic" float riders? This is bad vibes all around.  The antagonists on either side of it feed off of each other. 

Again, my advice, don't look at it, Marion. The only revelation to be found is destruction.  I mean, I don't think anyone ought to throw confederate flag beads either. But "political" can mean a lot of things. You see a lot of political commentary at Mardi Gras. There is political satire from the left (well, center-left anyway) in Krewe du Vieux or from the right in Chaos and Krewe D'etat. Muses is often politically themed although played straight down the conventional center for the most part.  You can agree or disagree with or be amused or offended by any of that. But what you really do not want is the likes of James Reiss deciding for you what kind of political is and isn't acceptable. 

There is an inherent politics in Carnival. But its appeal is more universalist than partisan.  Carnival rituals, most of the time, end up reinforcing existing hierarchies through the absurdist pantomime of their inversion. But they also serve to stoke the imagination and maintain the idea that subversion is achievable. In an early chapter of the recently published The Dawn of Everything the late anthropologist David  Graeber and his co-author the archaeologist David Wengrow have this to say about Carnivalistic traditions.

What's really important about such festivals is that they kept the old spark of political self-consciousness alive. They allowed people to imagine that other arrangements are feasible, even for society as a whole, since it was always possible to fantasize about carnival bursting its seams and becoming the new reality. In the popular Babylonian story of Semiramis, the eponymous servant girl convinces the Assyrian king to let her be "Queen for a Day" during some annual festival, promptly has him arrested, declares herself empress, and leads her new armies to conquer the world. May Day came to be chosen as the date for the international workers' holiday largely because so many British peasant revolts had historically begun on that riotous festival. Villagers who played at "turning the world upside" would periodically decide they actually preferred the world upside down, and took measures to keep it that way.

Carnival offers people a dream of a different world. These are rituals of hope. There is something political buried in them but it is politics of a deep spiritual nature. The city's attempts to restrain it, over-police it, and reduce it to a wholly commercial product are an act of sacrilegious political repression. They're a strike at the civic soul. 

How do we defend ourselves from this kind of spiritual warfare?  Well we have our mantra supplied by the (occasionally lapsed) priest Arthur Hardy. Every year his Mardi Gras bible publishes the same Mardi Gras FAQ. Our favorite call and response verse:

Q: Is Mardi Gras staged for visitors?

A: Not really. While the "greatest free show on earth" draws hundreds of thousands of visitors, that is not its purpose. Mardi Gras is a party the city throws for itself.

We have our Sentinel supplied this year by the artist Simone Leigh. This is her Prospect 5 installation at the circle we once named after Robert E Lee.

The text below the sculpture reads:
 

Simone Leigh’s bronze sculpture Sentinel (Mami Wata) is sited at the base of the pedestal that once held a monument to Confederate General Robert E. Lee. The title of this work means “guard” or “watchman,” and it honors the work done by activists, citizens, and New Orleans city officials to remove symbols of white supremacy from public view, while also suggesting the possibility for a new protective spirit at this central downtown location. Sentinel (Mami Wata) takes the diversity of African cultures in New Orleans as a starting point, evoking African folklore and spiritualities. Mami Wata, a water spirit or deity, is known under many names across the African diaspora, including Yemaya, Yemoja, and Iemanja. Leigh’s sculpture holds forms of knowledge that have been passed down through spiritual and masking traditions in the city and beyond, wherein masking signifies transformation, not simply concealment.

Celebrating rituals and practices throughout the African diaspora that includes New Orleans, Sentinel (Mami Wata) marks a new chapter in the history of the renamed Egalité Circle, wherein the site represents one point in a larger constellation of public art, conversation, and historical memory. This constellation decenters whiteness and the legacies of colonialism, renewing access to knowledge and culture that has been suppressed by the falsehoods of white supremacy. Rather than perched atop the imposing multistory column that served as the pedestal for the Lee monument, this new work of art sits at ground level, not looming over people but emerging from among us. Leigh's sculpture is a temporary proposal for what could stand in the place of the previous monument—Sentinel (Mami Wata) will remain at Egalité Circle for a brief period before making space for other histories and narratives.

And, of course, we have our patron St. Valerio. Ready as ever to guide us through another ordeal as we solemnly seek to purge the demons of past seasons of misrule.

Putting St. Valerio out in the kitchen to protect our home from bad vibes this Carnival season pic.twitter.com/sPvLexCUPL

— skooks (@skooks) February 18, 2022

 It's Carnival time again. Meet me on the other side, another direction.

Raining on my parades

It is Carnival time and the weather outlook is bleak. There isn't a date left on the parade calendar where there isn't at least some doubt as to whether or not people will be sloshing about in boots and ponchos.  If you are so equipped and hardy enough, it's usually not such a bad deal.  The parades look a bit messier but the crowds are lighter. If you can stay dry enough, it's possible to have a fine time.  This still doesn't stop some of the larger krewes from getting nervous.  So nervous, in fact, that some of them are talking crazy talk.

Jefferson Parish President Mike Yenni said Wednesday that he has had queries from multiple New Orleans Mardi Gras krewes, asking if their parades could roll in Jefferson Parish if necessary. Multiple inches of rain, strong wind and thunderstorm are expected throughout the weekend, according to the National Weather Service.

After buzz about possible rescheduling on Tuesday, New Orleans police announced that all parades would roll on their scheduled days, but times could be changed.

"I've had some discussions with a couple captains candidly, just saying that … 'if we had to move, could we talk to you?' I said 'we're open to anything,' " Yenni said in a press briefing. "I'd have to get with our sheriff's department to make sure we could accommodate that. … but if we can help put on Mardi Gras, we certainly want to do so."

Or maybe it's just Yenni talking crazy.  The krewe spokesmen all sound like they're cooperating with NOPD. Although, the "candid discussions" with Yenni might also be a bit of back channel brinksamanship over rescheduling.  Or maybe they're just looking to pick up some of that sweet JP moolah. 

Wednesday, the parish council voted to give $25,000 subsidies each to Caesar and the Krewe of Centurions.

"Some council members are choosing to give money directly to krewes that will help their efforts," JP Council member Jennifer Van Vrancken said. "One of the things that I do is support the Rhythm on the Route band competition. So my office helps fund all of the winners."

JP President Mike Yenni said taxpayer money given to the krewes is well worth the price when you consider carnival has a $24 million dollar economic impact on the parish.

"So for the small amounts of money that the parish council has allocated to these krewes, to kind of help them out on those prime nights and prime weekends, we're seeing return on that investment," Yennis said. "Hotel occupancy in Jefferson Parish is up to 90 percent."

We've talked at length about the problems of route consolidation already so I don't want to go too far into that right now.  Orleans Parish parades would do well to disperse away from the St. Charles route back into the neighborhoods to spread the celebration more evenly across the city the way it was once not so long ago.  The Jefferson Parish issue is an added layer on top of this, though, having to do with the white flight origins and lingering racial divisions between New Orleans and Metairie.  That dynamic is changing again in the era of gentrification. As the city becomes more desirable to wealthier whites, the suburban lifestyle is starting to change as well.  These trends are beginning to manifest in the Carnival calendar.

Anyway, we'll have to see how that develops in the future.  Right now we're more concerned with the rain since that is definitely affecting things.  It doesn't necessarily mean that it's going to ruin anybody's time entirely, though.  Often a little rain on a parade isn't all that bad. We've seen our share of it already and have come through pretty well. Here are some photos and stuff.

Saturday was touch and go for the five parades that rolled through Orleans Parish. Pontchartrain got off without a hitch.  Captain Sam is one of my favorite Carnival icons.  He and I are the same age and we both lived in New Orleans East for a time when we were younger.



Also it looks like they've done away with the pretense of titling their royalty with roman numerals.  I guess I can get behind that.



I don't have any pictures of Choctaw or Freret. That's when the quagmire began. It was bad. And I felt bad. I had to go lay down for a while, frankly.  But somehow we rallied in time for Sparta.



Because the previous night had been a little too much about straight whiskey when it should have been about Miller Lite, Saturday had to be about Diet Coke when it also should have been about Miller Lite.  (This also may have something to do with being the same age as Captain Sam but never mind that right now.)  The point is, we watched Sparta and Pygmalion without drinking any alcohol.  Yes, it is perfectly fine to do this.

Let's see what pictures look good here.  The intermittent rain didn't make it easy.  Sparta had a Shakespeare theme of some sort. It looked very good. Here is their Taming Of The Shrew float. It had a big ol' pelican on it.



Pygmalion wants to be First Weekend Endymion.  (Tit-Dymion?  End-Mini-on?) This year its captain (some Rizutto or another.. Is it Jack or Phil?) cut some TV ads promoting the parade and ball as a major event.   That's not unheard of but it is unusual. Especially for a first week parade.  I'm not sure why they feel like they have to do this.  Are they worried about being eclipsed by the growing spectacle of Chewbacchus across town?  Anyway, it's funny.

The parade is fine. It really does look like somebody tried to make an Endymion but just didn't have enough parts. Maybe some day they will pull it off. The rain made this attempt appear less successful than it could have been.  Here is what I mean by the comparison.

These maid and duke floats are modeled on the long procession that Endymion typically begins with.  The riders are supposed to have big headdresses suspended from the rigging behind them.  But the rain must have messed that up Saturday.  Anyway you see what they did there.



They've also developed a couple of gaudy, led-covered signature floats.  The Jester here is a reference to the French Quarter daiquiri shops the Rizuttos also happen to run.



They try to bring in a lot of cool marching clubs as well. The Krewe de Lune is in either its third or fourth year now.



The theme was.. sea creatures or something... I forget. Here is a 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea float.  The floats in both Sparta and Pygmalion looked good despite the rain.



It's actually a pretty nice parade. The wanna-be-Endymion air of it only makes it seems smaller by comparison.  In any case, both of these parades were fine examples of how persisting through a little rain can pay off.

Wednesday was an even clearer case in point. It rained so much during Druids and  Nyx that the Pelicans even had to stop playing their indoor sport. 

You guys wanna catch a parade or something? @Pacers

— New Orleans Pelicans (@PelicansNBA) February 8, 2018

We are hosting out of town friends this week and these were their young children's first Mardi Gras parades. So the weather wasn't ideal.  But we are pros at this and as such we had spare ponchos for everybody. The right gear really does make all the difference.  There still isn't much I can do for my camera, though. So I only got a few phone snapshots. Most of them are bad. 



I did feel obligated to get a shot of their monument joke. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. But the subject is more than tired at this point.



Druids also offered commentary on the shorter Canal route. They're correct here. Maybe a little whiny and passive aggressive in tone. But still..



There was also the traditional, but subtle, knock at Nyx which you can see in this blurry photo if you want to click on it. It's just a purse with some big bills spilling out of it. It's a reference to Nyx's iconic symbol and the ongoing controversies over the grifter in charge of the krewe.  Here she is now on her Captain's float.



As we have come to expect with regard to the "largest parading organization in all of Carnival" the problems with Nyx didn't have as much to do with the rain so much as they did with... being Nyx and doing Nyx things.

Crowds stationed around Magazine and Upperline streets got a bit more time to plead for hand-decorated purses after a float hit tree limbs on Jefferson Avenue, leading to a downed power line and a brief delay in the Krewe of Nyx parade, according to Entergy New Orleans and the city's emergency-preparedness department.

"A float came into contact with tree limbs," said Yolanda Pollard, spokeswoman for Entergy New Orleans, and the limbs fell onto a line servicing a single property on Jefferson Avenue, near the start of the parade.

Yeah yeah, it was a freak accident and could have happened to anybody. But for a self-proclamed "superkrewe" that always ends up being a little too big for its britches, not quite fitting an oversized float down an Uptown street is a little bit too on the nose as a metaphor.

We experienced the delay as an extended gap in the parade which is kind of a rare thing these days and so kind of nostalgic.  Here is the back of the parade catching up.



Due in part to the power line incident and to the weather, Nyx ended up being kind of a wreck; delays between floats followed by very large floats going way too fast through the rain to try and catch up, that sort of thing.  The typical Nyx problem of too many floats with no bands or marching units between them was in evidence again this year.  Toward the back end, it starts to feel very much like a truck parade. 

There's nothing wrong with a truck parade, of course, especially when, as is the case with Nyx, everybody seems to know one or several of the riders.  That plus the light crowd makes for a prime opportunity to catch pretty much everything.  The first-timer children in our group enjoyed the hell out of that. One can even appreciate the chaotic atmosphere of watching a parade struggle not to fall apart.  Which, really, is the most appropriate way to celebrate during a thunderstorm anyway. Nyx might not be the Prime Time event it bills itself as. But, for this year, anyway, it might be the model for pushing on through the weather for the other superkrewes to emulate.

Carnival Bulletin and Photo Dump

A summary of the Carnival season so far. If you are looking for parade rankings, they are here.

Food:

Are you hosting a house party this season?  There's some pretty good advice in here.

How to be a good host and still party down at the parade?

To help less experienced parade party hosts master the day, we asked Scineaux, Tim Acosta of Rouses Supermarkets, who is known in his food-centric family for hosting big backyard parties, and longtime caterer Linda Kleinschmidt-Schmidt for tips.

Ok it's mostly common sense.  But the point about big batch dishes is good common sense to observe. At some point, over the course of the parade season, I usually end up making a big jambalaya. Menckles has a great chilli recipe that works particularly well when it's cold out. (It hasn't been this year. Last weekend, she made spaghetti instead.) For Mardi Gras Day I always make two pounds of red beans.  Last night, we made what we hope will be the final big grocery run of Carnival.  After Thursday, neither of us is all too keen to move our cars.

Meanwhile, Chrissy Teigen wants to know where to find the best gumbo.

Chrissy Teigen, the supermodel and author of the cookbook "Cravings" (Clarkson Potter), had a question Sunday (Feb. 19) for New Orleans: who makes the best gumbo.

Teigen is actually one of the better celebrity follows on social media. Even if you don't care about the Hollywood and lifestyle stuff, she's witty and outspoken on a number of topics. It's why she can ask about gumbo and cause that to become one of those "Today on Twitter" items on NOLA.com.  I even participated by way of having some of my photos retweeted at her by somebody. This truck looks like the sort of place to find pretty good gumbo.  I didn't try any, though.





If you weren't in the mood for that stuff, there were plenty of other options along the route on Sunday.  Here's a taco truck parked out in front of Rite Aid.



Brother's seems to have taken over Williams Supermarket.  I'm not sure how I feel about this. Seems like we've lost a local-oriented business in favor of a more visitor friendly grab-n-go.



On the other hand, 24/7 seems nice. Remind me to check on that later to see if it's real.

Then you've got the regular collection of traveling carnie vendors selling fried goo of various sorts.







The "brick-and-motar" places along the Avenue are selling street food as well.  One of the newest is the super-fancy Lula distillery and restaurant.  They were making fancy drinks and selling cheap beer at fancy prices.



But Mardi Gras really isn't a time for fancy drinks or prices.  It's more about the joys of tacky and cheap. On Saturday night, for example, this guy would sell you an orange daiquiri. If you wanted an orange daiquiri.



The Krewe of Pontchartrain even ran a food-based theme, as well they should given that their mascot is a catfish.



The first weekend parades are almost always lighthearted stuff. Pontchartrain's parade this year, for instance, was all about different things you can have on your po-boy.  One of their tropes is they like to tease the crowd with extremely easy fill-in-the-blank float titles.  So there were floats called "_oa__ _e_f" and "M_at__l" for (Roast Beef and Meatball) and, of course, "__ri_p"



Might want to hold off on the "S__t Sh__l C__b" for a while, though.  I don't think they are available right now.



Sports:

The NBA All-Star Game appears to have gone off fine for the celebrities and high rollers for whom the entirety of downtown was pretty much walled off throughout the weekend. It turned out well for Pelicans fans too.  First they got to see their hometown star pull down an MVP trophy with a 52 point performance. Nevermind that it was totally rigged. 

In a game typified by selfish play, it was clear West teammates were giving Davis additional opportunities that may not come when the game is outside of New Orleans. Whether it was Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook, Marc Gasol or DeMarcus Cousins, Davis was given chances to finish possessions, just as West coach Steve Kerr predicted Saturday.

“It was amazing,” Davis said. “That's what I wanted to do. I stressed that, I think more than enough, to the guys in the locker room before the game that I wanted to get the MVP for this crowd, for this city, and I ended up doing it. Them guys did a great job of just finding me, giving me the basketball. They wanted me to score 50. Every time, Kawhi (Leonard) was like, 'Six more points.' Or James (Harden) was like, 'I'm going to pass you the ball.'

Next, they apparently stole DeMarcus Cousins from the Kings. At least that's the way they seem to feel about it in Sacramento. Maybe it was totally rigged. Or maybe the Kings are stupid.

Buddy Hield, Tyreke Evans, Langston Galloway, a top-three protected 2017 first-round pick, and a 2017 second round pick. That’s it. That’s all the Sacramento Kings got for a center who is still young and good enough to be a foundational NBA player. Exactly what sorts of shocked, horrified noises should you be making in response to that trade? Here’s some guidance: According to ESPN’s Ramona Shelburne, the Pelicans had offered the same package minus Hield to the 76ers in exchange for Jahlil Okafor—who really sucks!—and didn’t get it done. Please, try to keep it down.

Whatever it is, you won't hear many complaints in New Orleans. All told, the All Star Weekend nobody really wanted could have gone a heck of a lot worse.

On Sunday morning, the Mystic Krewe of Femme Fatale celebrated the All Star Game with a float full of players' wives introducing their theme, "Femme Fatale Hosts Game Day." Turns out "Game Day" meant floats representing various board games like this Candyland number for example.



Still, it made for a nice kid-friendly day parade. You have to get up early to see it, but Femme Fatale puts on the best all around show of the first weekend Uptown. In just three years they've really blown up.







It doesn't hurt, also that they've managed to book some of the best marching bands.  This year they were led by Southern University. They always bring the thunder and the lighting.



Music:

I had the bike Sunday morning which allowed me to get up and down the route and hear Southern play a few times. It's kind of dumb that I only stopped to record a few seconds of their cadence but I'm sure I'll see them again this year.  I did happen to film the US Marine Corps band leading Alla later in the day.  There are marching bands that are more exciting but the Marines produce a sound that is unique among them.



By comparison, Brother Martin High School here could use a little polish.



That's also Sunday afternoon, by the way, when Krewe of Carrollton once again unloaded all of the Catholic School bands... or maybe they left Brother Martin for King Arthur. Shit, I don't even remember now. Carrollton's parade was about music, in any case.



So.. you guessed it.. the floats were (mostly) songs you would find on jukeboxes. Like this KISS song.



Or these country "hits."



Some of the floats didn't make any sense, though. There was one about shrimp boots or something that didn't seem to have any connection to anything. Having the Elvi roll in front of a "Jailhouse Rock" float was pretty cute, though.



Seen a lot of the Elvi already this year. They were in Cleopatra too.  Anyway, it was a perfectly fine Carrollton parade. Maybe felt like they were going through the motions a bit.  I'm not really complaining, though. That's not what this section is about. The next section, however...

Complaints:

Actually, let's start with other people's complaints.  In Uptown Messenger this week we find Owen Courreges writing the obligatory parade etiquette column so that we don't have to. I guess, he says it well enough. He comes off as more of a scold than he probably wants to.  There are the standard reminders in there about the laws governing ladders and the blocking of intersections. Here is the point he makes about space saving.

POINTER #3: You can’t save a spot.

This is, perhaps, the most difficult rule for many people to remember. So many people visiting New Orleans suffer from the regrettable misconception that they can stake out a location in advance of a Mardi Gras parade, and then exclude any unauthorized persons from said location.

However, the places where people view parades are streets and sidewalks, i.e., public rights-of-way. You can’t claim “dibs” over them. Everybody has equal access. You can only claim a space with your physical presence.

Things would go more smoothly if everyone understood this from the get-go.  A lot of first-timers and/or people who only come into New Orleans for Endymion or for Thoth Sunday have a bit of a learning curve to deal with. I think if the city continues to take action like it did this week on the Orleans Avenue neutral ground, behaviors might start to change over time. The good news, though, is that they can also change within the space of an evening.

The secret to dealing with an over-Chad-ed parade route is patience. As tight as things may feel at the beginning of a parade, they almost always loosen up as the day or night goes on.  People get more familiar and less paranoid. Everyone stops worrying so much about their territory and focuses instead on watching the parade or talking to people or, well, just doing what they wanna. 

Nine times out of ten, you'll probably end up at the front for at least a float or two. Really, what you'll find is that you don't necessarily need to be in any one spot in particular anyway.  It would be nice if people would recognize this straight away. And, like I said, the city is right to step up enforcement with an eye toward accomplishing this. But, usually, the Chads don't have anywhere near the power to ruin your good time that you may think they do. There are always exceptions to that rule but just keep it in mind.



On Saturday, the tents and ladders on the neutral ground only blocked a few people's view of the hapless Krewe of Freret. Below is a photo of their permanent royal fixture, Councilman Jason Williams dressed up, for some reason, like a stormtrooper.

 

This is Freret's fourth year. Unlike Femme Fatale, though, they've never made the leap out of beginner status.  Their theme was, basically, "Hello this is our fourth year."  All of the floats were loosely titled with some sort of pun using the number four. The floats were also mostly the Krewe of Boo floats so, in a lot of cases, the theming made no sense. Here is a float called "May the Fourth be with you." Ok. But why is it Dracula?  No idea.



Freret, as usual, also just seemed pretty raggedy in general. Noticeable empty spots where riders could be. That sort of thing.  On the other hand, they do seem to enjoy themselves. I'm not sure about this but I think the "Lucha Krewe" appears in other parades although I also think they are a Freret creation.





So that's pretty fun.  Maybe this whole parade should just be a marching club or something.

Speaking of marching clubs, here is something else that came up this week. The T-P is running a column by someone calling herself,  "The Mardi Gras Czar." Okay, fine. I guess.  Can the Czar be cited for overuse of third person voice, though? And the gimmicky language in general? She's also a contrarian with hot takes to offer. Consider this, for example.

Truth is, Mardi Gras Czar loves the mostly-female marching groups' spirit, costumes, boots and skill at applying fake eyelashes.

But what Mardi Gras Czar doesn't love is that the ratio of women's marching groups to live bands seems to have mushroomed in recent years.

New Rule:

For every marching group that parades to recorded music, there should be at least three live bands, high school or otherwise. While City Carnival Ordinance Section 34-14 mandates that "each parade shall have at least seven, but no more than 30 (30!) marching bands," there is no language pertaining to marching groups.

For example:

The Krewe of Nyx was a highlight last year. Great throws. However, there were so many women's marching groups in Nyx that I wondered if the krewe simply forgot to book more than a few marching bands.

The thing is, despite the shticky presentation with the "New Rule" and such, she's kind of got a point.  I don't know if the problem is exactly recorded vs live music. But there are situations where the marching clubs are starting to feel a little bit redundant. There have always been dance troops in parades. In recent decades, a new generation of them inspired by the Pussyfooters (seen here in Femme Fatale Sunday) brought a refreshing DIY artistry to the game.



Groups like this added a new dimension to the parades. They're an element that really set Muses apart during its early years, for example.   Nowadays they're everywhere. And that's not itself a bad thing. Check out the Dames de Perlage and their homemade costumes, for example.



Or the fabulous Roux La La doing a Brazilian theme this year.



We seem to have reached a point, though, where these acts, including even the World Famous 610 Stompers, aren't the surprise element they once were. So when they are deployed by a parade that uses them, as The Mardi Gras Czar implies, in lieu of marching bands, then that can get a little boring.  Freret felt like this on Saturday.

So did King Arthur a little bit on Sunday. Although, I will give that parade a lot of credit for owning its own limitations, throwing generously, and having a sense of humor.. or at least.. for putting Monty Python quotes on all of the float titles.



Their rented floats didn't fit a specific theme on their own without a little narrative help from the tittle cards. That was fine, though. It's cheap but it works. See, the Knights of the Round Table dance whenever they're able... they dance to ABBA.


#LastKnightInSweden?

Finally, in complaints, there are probably too many parades the first Sunday.  This is yet another consequence of the over-crowded Uptown schedule. This is, I think, Alla's third year since moving over from the West Bank.  According to the schedule, they begin at 2:00 PM. In practice, they are a night parade.



That might be OK if they were worth waiting for. But there isn't much to distinguish Alla from the three parades that preceded it. There's this big "Alla-gator" float.



Also, Alla emphasizes military and law enforcement every year so you get to see the coast guard and some friends of Jefferson Parish Sheriff Newell Normand.





At the end of a long day and weekend, it can feel like a let down.

Police:



In addition to the Coasties and the JPs, in the parades, there is also the heavy presence of municipal enforcement all along the route.  Here is NOPD's observation tower.



I wonder what happens when they have to pee.

Of course NOPD aren't the only agents of the law you might encounter. The real business is being conducted by parking enforcement.



Also, here again is our friend with the daiquiri cart.  I didn't have the chance to investigate further but this appears to be a permit inspection. Or maybe there is some sort of code against selling orange daiquiris that are actually red.





Politics:

This is probably an item for later in the week. But as krewe politics becomes more relevant this week, here is a brief guide we produced last year for you to keep in mind.

@bobmurrell Carnival politics

Establishment Right: Chaos

Establishment Left: Muses, KDV

Tea Party: Druids, D'Etat

Hippie Left: Delusion

— skooks (@skooks) January 23, 2016

Yes, it's a joke. And, yes, some of those groups share riders and it's not... look, don't @ me over this.

Instead, here is something to read. It's an ANTIGRAVITY article by Robin McDowell about the 1946 flambeau carrier strike. There are echoes of this in the current plight of so-called "culture bearers" who struggle to make ends meet entertaining the tourists and upper classes of our increasingly stratified and unaffordable city.

So few people who live and work in New Orleans actually ride atop floats. Those who work ungodly hours day and night in restaurant kitchens preparing New Orleans’ famous cuisine can’t actually afford the food they cook (let alone a market rate apartment). The holders of exclusive tickets bestowed for glamorous balls dance away their one-night affairs, upholding the mutually engendering exchange of appalling sums of money and social capital. The hours of work of artists, security guards, sanitation workers, cooks, servers, and delivery drivers are also part of this exchange.

Working at a Mardi Gras parade isn’t community service. It’s not “patriotic,” as the post-World War II ads would have people believe. It’s not something you do out of the goodness of your own heart to improve the living conditions of vulnerable communities. Being paid for your physical labor in smiles is an embarrassing and exploitive idea. Most of the tasks that don’t include sitting on a float with plumbing, heat, cold booze and snacks are bonafide wage labor.

Let’s look backward down Canal Street to 1946, and give a nod to a tiny minority of courageous souls who realized a strategic advantage and seized it. A humble few can wield some serious power—enough to shut down one of the greatest shows on earth.

Advice:

Travel pieces about New Orleans this time of year can get pretty insufferable. But this National Geogrpahic listicle wasn't so bad. Maybe the restaurant recommendations are a little high end. Anyway, here is my "insider's tip" for this year. Skip Chewbacchus on Saturday night and go see the Uptown parades.  It's becoming a bit of scene at Chewbacchus anyway. And the reviews, as of late, are less than.. um.. stellar.

They need to change the name Chewbacchus to Intergalactic Krewe of people walking looking bored.

— RevVargVargas (@vargvargas) February 19, 2017

Things I have seen marchers in Chewbacchus doing tonight:  Looking bored, on their phones, eating sandwiches.

— RevVargVargas (@vargvargas) February 19, 2017

Meanwhile, the popularity of the Bywater spectacle thins out the crowd on St. Charles where there are plenty of lightsabers anyway. 



What you'll see there is Sparta, always a good looking classic style parade with flambeaux (pictured above.)  The Sparta theme was based on different editions of Cirque du Soleil (and some puns.) My pictures of their floats didn't come out so great. Here is this year's King.



Following Sparta is a very ambitious Krewe of Pygmalion.  Every year, Pygmalion tries a little bit harder to earn its Saturday night headlining slot. Here are their signature Jester and Pygmammoth floats.





Elaborate float design, fancy lighting, and a general bigly-ness gives this the feel of one of the later parades but on the first weekend and playing to a more manageable crowd. Pygmalion. Consider it.


Controversies:

Today is Wednesday and that means the "self-proclaimed Super-Krewe" of Nyx is back tonight for its sixth ride.  According to the Arthur Hardy guide, they're already the second largest krewe in terms of membership.



But its explosive growth has also come with some growing pains.  If you like one great big float after another, you will have enjoyed the last few years of Nyx.  Sometimes it feels uneven, though. Almost like a truck parade.  But, boy are they ever desperate to be recognized. 

The ladies of the Krewe of Nyx have cemented their place in Carnival history with the unveiling of a krewe crest plaque at the Mardi Gras Fountain.

The Nyx plaque is the first to be added to  the Lakefront landmark since 2001. Nyx members dedicated their plaque Monday night, in advance of their Wednesday parade.

“The Krewe of Nyx is honored to be represented here at the iconic Mardi Gras Fountain, a New Orleans tradition.  We are honored and humbled to be among the storied and historic krewes that comprise Mardi Gras today and in the past.” said Julie Lea, captain of the Krewe of Nyx.

I guess dedicating a plaque to her krewe is a better use of Lea's time than scheduling Delgado police for double-dip detail duty or.. whatever this was about last year. It's definitely a better use of time and money than going to court over the world's dumbest $200 T-shirt idea.  The point is, wherever Nyx goes, drama and controversy seem to follow.

At least in the news, it does.  For the nearly 3,000 krewe members, none of this stuff is important. They're just here for the big parade. And the remaining 40 percent of the city's population not riding are here to see it. Oh wait... but at some point we're expecting a Plus One.

Lost in the hurlyburly of the first weekend of Mardi Gras, the first month of Donald Trump's presidency and the firehose of "fake news" comes this definitely-not-fake-news from Weekly World News, the former supermarket tabloid that now seems to be an online-only affair.

Billed (rightly) as a "Mardi Gras STUNNER!," the WWN seems to be the only media outlet to report an alien vows: "I'LL LAND MY UFO ON BOURBON STREET — ON FAT TUESDAY!"

What could possibly go wrong?

E.T., the extra crispy... pic.twitter.com/znf47MQ5pA

— MacCocktail (@MacCocktail) February 22, 2017