Ball Of String Moment ~ Washington

Part of the fun of traveling the way we do is that we get to see some of the more...obscure...sites on the road. Lithus and I refer to them as Ball of String moments. Like...

Stonehenge, Maryhill, WA

There was a geocache. We left our names and a firestarting kit. It seemed appropriate.

The First Sign of Spring

Everyone has their own unofficial first sign of Spring.  For some, it's a robin. For some, it's the Spring Equinox. For others, it's Easter. On the road, it's the first tailgate. The first night it's warm enough, clear enough, to gather in the parking lot, grill meat, drink beer, and tell stories.

New company. New group of guys. Same routine. As of tonight, it's Spring. And I'm happy.

Pictures, Pictures, and More Pictures

To wrap up the 2012 Carnival/Mardi Gras season. Offered up, mostly without comment, because they really do speak for themselves.

The Krewe Of Tuck:

The Krewe of Tucks first began in 1969 as a group of Loyola University students.

The name "Krewe of Tucks" comes from the name of an uptown pub where two college students decied to start their own krewe after failing at their attempt to become white flambeaux carriers. The parade has grown immensely over the years. In 1983, the parade became a daytime event, and in 1986 the parade's course finally reached downtown.

The Krewe Of Zulu: Early in 1909, a group of laborers who had organized a club named "The Tramps," went to the Pythian Theater to see a musical comedy performed by the Smart Set. The comedy included a skit entitled, "There Never Was and Never Will Be a King Like Me," about the Zulu Tribe...

That is how Zulu began, as the many stories go...

Years of extensive research by Zulu's Historian staff seem to indicate that Zulu's beginning was much more complicated than that. The earliest signs of organization came from the fact that the majority of these men belonged to a Benevolent Aid Society. Benevolent Societies were the first forms of insurance in the Black community where, for a small amount of dues, members received financial help when sick or financial aid when burying deceased members.

Conversations and interviews with older members also indicate that in that era the city was divided into wards, and each ward had its own group or "Club." The Tramps were one such group. After seeing the skit, they retired to their meeting place (a room in the rear of a restaurant/bar in the 1100 block of Perdido Street), and emerged as Zulus. This group was probably made up of members from the Tramps, the Benevolent Aid Society and other ward-based groups.

While the "Group" marched in Mardi Gras as early as 1901, their first appearance as Zulus came in 1909, with William Story as King.

The group wore raggedy pants, and had a Jubilee-singing quartet in front of and behind King Story. His costume of "lard can" crown and "banana stalk" scepter has been well documented. The Kings following William Story, (William Crawford - 1910, Peter Williams - 1912, and Henry Harris - 1914), were similarly attired.

1915 heralded the first use of floats, constructed on a spring wagon, using dry good boxes. The float was decorated with palmetto leaves and moss and carried four Dukes along with the King. That humble beginning gave rise to the lavish floats we see in the Zulu parade today.

Just wandering around on Mardi Gras (plus some good shots of my neighborhood, too!):

The "repent or burn" crowd had a small, but friendly, counterpoint

They were walking toward us when I said "Strike a pose, boys."

Yes, it *is* a centaur. And before you ask, wheels.

Chalk footprints. Because, why not?

Bourbon Street Stories

As I wrote over at Pobble Thoughts, Mardi Gras on Bourbon Street was a little insane. However, it is possible to get beads while walking down the street other nights of Carnival. Okay, I suppose it's possible to get them on Mardi Gras, too, but dear Lord, I didn't try.Perhaps the fact that I was sober had something to do with it, but I think, more likely, it had more to do with the fact that I am me. Cheering at a parade is one thing. Bead begging on Bourbon is another. Mostly, I made eye contact with people up on the balconies, they smiled, and threw me beads. But a few other times, the story was a little more interesting. Here are the stories I liked best...


1. There was a masked woman who was trying to throw to me. The first time, someone else caught them (I'm short). The second time, they went behind me and by the time I thought to turn around and pick them up, someone else had them. I held up my finger to say "one more time." She repeated the motion and threw very carefully. I caught them and blew her kisses. By the time I had looked back up from putting them around my neck, she was gone.

2. A woman wanted me to throw her a set of my beads first, only I couldn't get one untangled in a timely fashion. I shrugged and assured her I was sorry and moved on. Only behind me, she was throwing beads to Lithus anyway. Once he caught back up with me, we untangled one of my beads and went back. She couldn't believe we'd come back to pay our debt, so to speak. Biggest sober grin I saw all night.

3. A set of really good beads landed right in front of me, so I picked them up. But I could tell by that they had been meant for the woman ahead of me. I doubled checked with the guy on the balcony who had thrown them and, yes, they had been meant for her. So, I gave them to her. The guy on the balcony threw me a set of even better beads "for being so cool."

4. A man on a balcony had a huge armful of beads and was trying to get people to do crazy things for them. I held my arms out, to tell him I wanted some. He aped the position as if to say "what will you do for them?" I blew him kisses. Laughing, he threw me beads. Not as many as if I had gone crazy, but beads nonetheless.

5. My favorite ~ We were getting near the end of the street, the craziness was dying down a bit, when we noticed a group of college-aged guys on a balcony, and they noticed us, noticing them. One yelled down "Show us your tits!" To which I yelled back, "Oh, baby, you don't want to see these tits. They are 42 years old!" They all laughed so hard and threw me two sets of their best beads. For not showing my tits. :)
*note ~ the man far closer to my age down on the street with us said "I'd like to see them" which, I admit, was nice in a drunken, Mardi Gras kind of way. But no, I didn't.

Carnival Perfection

Have you ever had a perfect day? A day so right that you knew, even while you were in the middle of it, that something special was happening here. Lithus and I had one of those during Carnival. We had several days in a row that were indescribable and unexpected, but there was one day particular that was, simply, perfect.

It started with croissants from the Cafe Beignet, right around the corner. Now, the place that is known for beignets here in NOLA is Cafe du Monde. And their beignets are fine. But they are not the only, nor the best, place in town. Plus, as implied by the statement about croissants, there are other places that sell beignets and other goodness. So, croissants and fresh fruit. In bed. From Cafe Beignet.

Then, we wandered down to Bourbon Street, which is generally a bad idea if you are a) local and don't work there, b) sober, c) all of  the above. But it was Carnival and we wanted to people watch. So, we braved Bourbon Street to go to...the Cafe Beignet on Bourbon Street. Yep, turns out there are two of them. And the one on Bourbon Street is set back just a bit, so you can see Bourbon Street, but you are off the sidewalk just a bit. Perfect.

Why we wanted to be off the street a bit

This guy looked up just in time to not walk into us, who were standing very still

We found a table, were grooving to the live music (because there is live music everywhere), sipping our coffees, watching the craziness when BOOM beads land on our table. I looked up and found the man on the balcony across the street who had thrown them. Apparently, we weren't participating enough. He waved, pointed to Lithus and threw down another set. Kisses were blown, happy Mardi Gras(s) were exchanged, and life continued.

The man in black in the middle of the picture. This is on the tightest setting for my camera, so you can imagine how far away he was and what an arm he had to get the beads to us.

Even when these idiots showed up,

Idiots

the day was still perfect. Why, you ask? Because no one engaged them. No one. It was if they weren't even there. They tried, mind you, but they failed. The party raged on around them, and we all ignored them (except for me, who took a picture).

Two couples from Chicago joined us at our table and we chatted. They were thrilled to meet locals, who could make recommendations. We were thrilled to be locals who could make recommendations. They headed back into it and we stayed to finish our coffees, but as we were leaving, they showed back up again. A camera had gone missing. It wasn't at the table. It wasn't in the bathroom. I thought to ask the server if someone had turned it in. Sure enough, someone had. No, it hadn't been stolen. And these lovely people from Chicago gave me the credit for having found their camera. Lovely and sweet.

We ended the day at our favorite club, the BMC, listening to Eudora Evans and Deep Soul. If you ever get the chance, end your day listening to Eudora Evans and Deep Soul.

Knights of Babylon

It's Carnival down here in New Orleans, Lithus' and my first. Back when I lived in Massachusetts, it got to the point that I avoided Salem in October. Just wouldn't go. I can see getting to that place with NOLA in February. Just get the hell out of Dodge and leave it to the tourists and the Krewes. But this first year? This first year, I'm nowhere close to that.

Lithus and I have been lucky enough to be doing things like going to the grcoery store and SURPRISE! There's a parade. Or coming back from a doctor's appointment and *poof* there's another parade. Although, I admit, when the brass band stopped outside our bedroom window at 8:30 one morning, my first words were indeed "What The Fuck is that????" and I was weak for a moment. But I pulled the blankets up over my head and went back to sleep, and all was well.

However, last night, we decided to actually attend a parade intentionally. We ended up just a few blocks from our place, at the Knights of Babylon parade. According to the Mardi Gras website, the Knight of Babylon are:

Founded in 1939, the Knights of Babylon have proudly kept their traditional float designs, which remain unchanged after more than 70 years. Each float in the Knights of Babylon parade is a chapter in the story being told. The krewe consists of more than 200 knights. Their king, or Sargon, takes his title from the legendary Babylonian ruler, and the current king's identity is never revealed to the public.

Which sounds incredibly formal for what looked like this:

Souvenir stalls get pulled up and down the street. They are as brightly colored as anything the parades have to offer.

The parade started off with Knight of Babylon's jester:

Then got rolling with the Marine Corps band. We all cheered until you could hardly hear them play. There was a delay right in front of us, so the guys on horns broke away and jammed on their own for a bit. They were being followed by a high school band and headed down. It was good natured and fun, but the high school band got schooled. Bless their hearts, they knew it, too.

And the parade starts back up again

From then on out, it was just floats and music and beads and revelry...

The Navy made an appearance, too

My favorite float

Yep, I managed to attend the parade based mostly on classic literature, with a specific focus on the Bard, himself. You can't tell me there isn't a certain amount of magic during Mardi Gras...

Then This Happened...

First, Lithus is fine. His instincts are good.

However! Last week, he saw something (he could tell you what and he told me, but I don't understand it enough to tell you) that made him ask J, the mechanic (a good guy, very qualified, very solid), to check out the tail boom attachment. J looked it over that night and said it was fine. The next morning, though, Lithus still felt uncomfortable, so checked it himself and couldn't find anything. So, he had J look inside again. Still nothing. But Lithus looked inside himself again. Yep. Tail boom attachment was broken. This is a nonsurvivable situation from the air. Had he gotten up, which he could have in spite of this, he would've died that day.

We pretend that what he does isn't dangerous. And the vast majority of the time, we succeed in forgetting. Then, something like this happens. It's good to be lucky. It's better to be skilled. It's best to be both.