Authors: Gred Herren
Mardi Gras Mambo (3 page)
Little did I realize how much hassle we would have been spared if we'd only listened to Frank. You see, there's something about Carnival that affects people. Every day in New Orleans is
anything can happen day,
and Mardi Gras somehow heightens that sense of insanity. Maybe it's the liquor, maybe it's the parades, or maybe it's just the hordes of tourists; I don't know. But Carnival is somehow different, more charged with the craziness that dogs our days here. My mom jokes that during Carnival the city spikes the drinking water, but I don't know if that would do the trick. I think it's something to do with the time of year, the way the planets align themselves or the stars are arranged when the season starts. Crazier things happen than usual. People let down their guard and open themselves to all kinds of bizarre behaviorâthings they wouldn't do any other time of year. Straight boys go out on Fat Tuesday practically naked, showing off their bodies and actually enjoying the attention from the gay boys. And, of course, as everyone knows, lots of breasts are bared.
anything can happen day,
and Mardi Gras somehow heightens that sense of insanity. Maybe it's the liquor, maybe it's the parades, or maybe it's just the hordes of tourists; I don't know. But Carnival is somehow different, more charged with the craziness that dogs our days here. My mom jokes that during Carnival the city spikes the drinking water, but I don't know if that would do the trick. I think it's something to do with the time of year, the way the planets align themselves or the stars are arranged when the season starts. Crazier things happen than usual. People let down their guard and open themselves to all kinds of bizarre behaviorâthings they wouldn't do any other time of year. Straight boys go out on Fat Tuesday practically naked, showing off their bodies and actually enjoying the attention from the gay boys. And, of course, as everyone knows, lots of breasts are bared.
I've always called it the Mardi Gras mambo.
And if someone had told me what would happen during this year's Carnival, I would have laughed my ass off at them.
Please
âit was too much for anyone to believe. And Frank has never once, since Fat Tuesday, ever said, “I told you so.” Maybe it wouldn't have happened if we hadn't done the Ecstasy, but I have a feeling it was kind of meant to be. Somehow, we would have gotten dragged into it. And if not for the Ecstasy, who knows? Maybe it would have wound up worse than it actually was. You can never question the Goddess and what she has in mind for you. All you can do is take what she throws at you and do your best. There's never any point in thinking, “If we hadn't done this or if we'd done this instead things would have been different.”
Please
âit was too much for anyone to believe. And Frank has never once, since Fat Tuesday, ever said, “I told you so.” Maybe it wouldn't have happened if we hadn't done the Ecstasy, but I have a feeling it was kind of meant to be. Somehow, we would have gotten dragged into it. And if not for the Ecstasy, who knows? Maybe it would have wound up worse than it actually was. You can never question the Goddess and what she has in mind for you. All you can do is take what she throws at you and do your best. There's never any point in thinking, “If we hadn't done this or if we'd done this instead things would have been different.”
Things happen for a reason, and it's not our place to question those reasons, right? But sometimes I have to wonder if the Goddess doesn't just enjoy fucking with me for her own entertainment. I mean, she probably
does
have a sense of humor, right? It's not a stretch to think she likes to see how we are all going to react to the curveballs she throws at us. And I usually don't mind the curveballsâthat's what makes life interesting, after all, and I can't think of anything more tedious than having a life that is set in stone and completely predictable. Sure, some warning that something crazy is about to land in your lap would be niceâand maybe she could not throw a lot of successful curveballs at me in a row. But I've never been destined for a quiet life, as I've said, and for the most part my life has always been pretty charmed. I've got a great family, a great apartment, and two fabulous boyfriends, so apparently she feels like I need to have some nutso stuff in my life as well. And if that's the price I have to pay for the great life she's given me, so be it. I don't ever want my life to become boring.
does
have a sense of humor, right? It's not a stretch to think she likes to see how we are all going to react to the curveballs she throws at us. And I usually don't mind the curveballsâthat's what makes life interesting, after all, and I can't think of anything more tedious than having a life that is set in stone and completely predictable. Sure, some warning that something crazy is about to land in your lap would be niceâand maybe she could not throw a lot of successful curveballs at me in a row. But I've never been destined for a quiet life, as I've said, and for the most part my life has always been pretty charmed. I've got a great family, a great apartment, and two fabulous boyfriends, so apparently she feels like I need to have some nutso stuff in my life as well. And if that's the price I have to pay for the great life she's given me, so be it. I don't ever want my life to become boring.
And since Ash Wednesday, I've gone over it again and again in my head. Sure, there were things that could have been done differently, but there was always a sense of the inevitable. It
had
to happen. Maybe I was getting too complacent with my life and the Goddess wanted to shake things up for me a bit. Maybe it was a life lesson she felt I needed to learn. And, ultimately, I did learn a lot from the whole mess. Maybe a bit more than I think I needed to learn, but you never get to make those choices.
had
to happen. Maybe I was getting too complacent with my life and the Goddess wanted to shake things up for me a bit. Maybe it was a life lesson she felt I needed to learn. And, ultimately, I did learn a lot from the whole mess. Maybe a bit more than I think I needed to learn, but you never get to make those choices.
And maybe it was just the Mardi Gras mambo getting into our heads and our lives with a gleeful laugh. Mardi Gras is never what you expect, and this last Carnival was nothing like anything I'd ever imagined to experience.
And despite everything, even now, I can hear the music playing in my head, and I can't help but smile about it all.
But from now on, I will always take the Mardi Gras mambo a bit more seriously. . . .
CHAPTER ONE
Nine of Cups
a love of sensual pleasures
Â
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Mardi Gras is
not
for the timid. It chews timid people up and spits them out without a second thought.
not
for the timid. It chews timid people up and spits them out without a second thought.
I'm probably overstating the obvious here. When people think
Mardi Gras
and Are Not From Here, they think about drinking and naked breasts bouncing and utter licentiousnessâwhat the last days of Sodom and Gomorrah must have been like before fire and brimstone rained destruction down on those godless cities of the plain. Certainly there are some Christians who make that analogy, and desperate to save the city and its sinners from that same dreadful fate, they preach from the street corners through megaphones, screaming at the revelers to repent and find room for Jesus in their hearts rather than room for liquor in their livers. No one listens, of courseâthey just throw beads at them or bow their heads in respect as they walk past. Mardi Gras is a time for frivolity, for letting go of the daily inhibitions that keep people from behaving like, well, uncivilized animals. It's called
farewell to the flesh
, the last chance to sin before Lent, and in New Orleans, we like to do things right. I guess it's all about excess, really. A local performer, who calls herself the world's only “female female impersonator,” often claims during her stage shows that the city motto should be “anything worth doing is worth doing to excess.”
Mardi Gras
and Are Not From Here, they think about drinking and naked breasts bouncing and utter licentiousnessâwhat the last days of Sodom and Gomorrah must have been like before fire and brimstone rained destruction down on those godless cities of the plain. Certainly there are some Christians who make that analogy, and desperate to save the city and its sinners from that same dreadful fate, they preach from the street corners through megaphones, screaming at the revelers to repent and find room for Jesus in their hearts rather than room for liquor in their livers. No one listens, of courseâthey just throw beads at them or bow their heads in respect as they walk past. Mardi Gras is a time for frivolity, for letting go of the daily inhibitions that keep people from behaving like, well, uncivilized animals. It's called
farewell to the flesh
, the last chance to sin before Lent, and in New Orleans, we like to do things right. I guess it's all about excess, really. A local performer, who calls herself the world's only “female female impersonator,” often claims during her stage shows that the city motto should be “anything worth doing is worth doing to excess.”
Of course, the actual city motto isn't that much different, really:
Laissez le bon temps roule.
(Let the good times roll.)
Laissez le bon temps roule.
(Let the good times roll.)
Carnival is all about more: more people, alcohol, sex, fun, dancing, nakednessâmore of everything. It's a time when anything goesâwell, everything except sobriety. Fat Tuesday is a holiday throughout the state. Any business that doesn't involve serving food or liquor comes to pretty much a complete halt in the days leading up to this final magic day. Mardi Gras is tied to Lent, after all, forty days of piety and prayer leading up to Easter. So, everyone has to get all the fun and frivolity out of their systems before Ash Wednesday. And going forty days without fun and frivolity in New Orleansâwell, is it any wonder that Carnival is a nonstop, citywide drunken orgy that lasts up to ten days? We take our fun and frivolity seriously here, and it has to be as much fun as possible to make the somber nature of Lent even more symbolic.
Of course, that's just the story we tell People Not From Here. Nobody
really
takes Lent as seriously as Carnival. The truly devout will give up somethingâchocolate, maybe cigarettes, some little sinful indulgence like thatâbut very few people actually give up liquor or sex for Lent. That just ain't gonna happen, folks. Chocolate is one thing, but liquor? Perish the thought. But for most People Not From Here, New Orleans and Mardi Gras are irrevocably linked in their mindsâand everyone has his or her own opinion of what Mardi Gras means. For me, it's lots of pretty-boy tourists with little or no morals dancing all night every night with their shirts off with sweat running down their chests, and going to parades with a slight buzz on.
really
takes Lent as seriously as Carnival. The truly devout will give up somethingâchocolate, maybe cigarettes, some little sinful indulgence like thatâbut very few people actually give up liquor or sex for Lent. That just ain't gonna happen, folks. Chocolate is one thing, but liquor? Perish the thought. But for most People Not From Here, New Orleans and Mardi Gras are irrevocably linked in their mindsâand everyone has his or her own opinion of what Mardi Gras means. For me, it's lots of pretty-boy tourists with little or no morals dancing all night every night with their shirts off with sweat running down their chests, and going to parades with a slight buzz on.
And the most important thing is the throws.
That's right,
throws
, not beads. The krewes don't just throw strings of beads to the screaming crowds, no matter what people might think. They throw plush toys, plastic spears, plastic go-cups, doubloons, and various other things, depending on the krewe. Every krewe has its own unique and special throw. The ladies of Muses, for example, throw red plastic shoes, to add a bit of feminine flavor to the festivities. Of course, the most treasured throw of all is the Zulu coconut. I've caught a few of those in my life. They don't throw the coconuts anymoreâtoo many people have gotten broken jaws or lost a lot of teeth over the yearsâso now they just hand them off the floats to the lucky chosen few. The hardest thing about getting the Zulu coconut is fighting off all the assholes who seem to think they are well within their rights to try to take it away from you. One year a woman grabbed me by the hair and said she'd yank it all out if I didn't give her my coconut. I was raised to believe a gentleman never hits a lady, but as she yanked on my hair I realized she wasn't a lady, punched her a good one in the gut, and once she let go of my hair gave her a strong shove for good measure. Bitch won't try that again, I bet.
throws
, not beads. The krewes don't just throw strings of beads to the screaming crowds, no matter what people might think. They throw plush toys, plastic spears, plastic go-cups, doubloons, and various other things, depending on the krewe. Every krewe has its own unique and special throw. The ladies of Muses, for example, throw red plastic shoes, to add a bit of feminine flavor to the festivities. Of course, the most treasured throw of all is the Zulu coconut. I've caught a few of those in my life. They don't throw the coconuts anymoreâtoo many people have gotten broken jaws or lost a lot of teeth over the yearsâso now they just hand them off the floats to the lucky chosen few. The hardest thing about getting the Zulu coconut is fighting off all the assholes who seem to think they are well within their rights to try to take it away from you. One year a woman grabbed me by the hair and said she'd yank it all out if I didn't give her my coconut. I was raised to believe a gentleman never hits a lady, but as she yanked on my hair I realized she wasn't a lady, punched her a good one in the gut, and once she let go of my hair gave her a strong shove for good measure. Bitch won't try that again, I bet.
Throw fever at Mardi Gras is something to see, all right. It can turn into blood sport pretty darned quick.
One of the most fun things is watching people who've never been before catch the fever. I was really looking forward to seeing if Frank Sobieski, reserved retired FBI special agent, could resist the allure of catching throws. I could tell by the look on his face when he'd say things like, “I just can't believe people will make fools of themselves for this stuff,” while looking at the big box of beads I keep in my bedroom closet, that he truly believed screaming for beads was beneath his dignity. I decided not to tell him that
everyone
thinks that before his or her first Mardi Grasâthat it's all just a silly local custom these newbies won't succumb to.
Of course
they won't.
everyone
thinks that before his or her first Mardi Grasâthat it's all just a silly local custom these newbies won't succumb to.
Of course
they won't.
No one
ever
does.
ever
does.
Colin had never been to Mardi Gras either, and he came down firmly on the same side of the fence as Frank. He was just as excited for the season as I was, but he would
never
scream for beads. I just smiled to myself as I listened to them talking about how they would never make fools of themselves for throws.
Just you boys wait,
I thought to myself with a smug grin,
within ten minutes of the first beads flying you'll be whoring yourself for whatever you can catch. Beneath your dignity, my ass.
never
scream for beads. I just smiled to myself as I listened to them talking about how they would never make fools of themselves for throws.
Just you boys wait,
I thought to myself with a smug grin,
within ten minutes of the first beads flying you'll be whoring yourself for whatever you can catch. Beneath your dignity, my ass.
I just hoped I could keep the smug “I told you so” look off my face.
There are certain rules about the beads People Not From Here never seem to understand. I've often wished that someone would publish a bead guide for those misguided people who just don't get it. I mean, it's not like it's hard. First of all,
you never buy beads.
The rule is you can only buy beads if you are going to give them away to a total strangerâno exceptions. The second rule is
you only wear beads you were given.
And, of course, the most important of all:
you only wear beads during Carnival
. Every little tourist shop in the Quarter sells beads, and it never ceases to amaze me when I see people walking around with strands of beads around their neck when it isn't Carnival. Nothing screams
tourist
louder than out-of-season bead wearing. You might as well wear a neon sign flashing
MUG ME
.
you never buy beads.
The rule is you can only buy beads if you are going to give them away to a total strangerâno exceptions. The second rule is
you only wear beads you were given.
And, of course, the most important of all:
you only wear beads during Carnival
. Every little tourist shop in the Quarter sells beads, and it never ceases to amaze me when I see people walking around with strands of beads around their neck when it isn't Carnival. Nothing screams
tourist
louder than out-of-season bead wearing. You might as well wear a neon sign flashing
MUG ME
.
And you know those great big beads the size of your fist? Those
never
come from a parade rider. For one thing, they're too expensive. Nope, those are store bought and are almost always worn by really attractive, young, straight college boys in the last full flush of their youthful beauty before the tragic slide into middle age so many of them suffer from. I have a theory about those beads: like a flashy expensive car, the bigger the beads, the smaller the penis. It's just a theory, though. I've never had the opportunity to prove or disprove it.
never
come from a parade rider. For one thing, they're too expensive. Nope, those are store bought and are almost always worn by really attractive, young, straight college boys in the last full flush of their youthful beauty before the tragic slide into middle age so many of them suffer from. I have a theory about those beads: like a flashy expensive car, the bigger the beads, the smaller the penis. It's just a theory, though. I've never had the opportunity to prove or disprove it.
Of all the parades, my favorite is the Mystic Krewe of Iris. There are several reasons for this. First, Iris is a women's krewe, which means the masked figures on the floats tossing things are not men. Men always look for women (the larger the breasts, the better) and children in the crowd to reward with their largesse. They only throw to men by accident, or if someone yells particularly loud. This sucks if you like to catch throws. However, the ladies of Iris are just as sexist as the male krewe members. They throw to men and children. Flirting with the ladies definitely works. And since Iris rolls on the Saturday afternoon before Fat Tuesday, usually it's sunny and warm. Sunny and warm means I don't wear a shirt. (And a lot of guys don't. It's basically a beefcake bonanza out there on St. Charles Avenue the afternoon of Iris. Did I mention how much I love Iris?)
I get lots of throws at Iris every year.
Carnival so far had been a bit of a disappointment. Mardi Gras was early this year, which meant despite the fervent prayers of the locals, there was a strong possibility that Fat Tuesday itself could be cold, gray, and drizzly. If the weather on Fat Tuesday sucks, it adversely affects the tourist numbers of the following year, so the City Fathers were keeping their fingers crossed and praying just as hard for sunny, warm weather as the rest of us who just want to run around half naked. Unfortunately, every night since the parades started, it had been gray, cold, and wet. The parades still rolled despite the inclement weather, but all the newscasters were despondent about low numbers of people out for the parades. They failed to take into consideration that standing in a slight drizzle on a cold night waiting for a parade isn't fun. You'd think they'd have realized it as they stood out there in their trench coats broadcasting. And, actually, it's better for the businesses. Instead of being out there on the streets, the tourists were in the restaurants and the bars staying dry and warm spending their tourist dollars to support our economy.
Every night after we got home from the gym, I'd ask the boys if they wanted to go out and watch the parades. I
hate
standing out trying to catch throws when it's cold, so I didn't try very hard to convince them. I'd have gone if they'd wanted to, but Frank and Colin weren't into standing around in the cold rain just to have beads thrown at them, so we pretty much blew off the earlier parades. After all, there's always another day of parades, and the Goddess wouldn't be so cruel as to have the weather suck the day of Iris. Regardless, I love the Iris parade, and unless the streets were flooding, we were going. Besides, my sister, Rain, is one of the ladies of Iris, so going was also a family obligation. Actually, most of my relatives are in one parade or another, but Rain's appearance in Iris is the only one I care about.
hate
standing out trying to catch throws when it's cold, so I didn't try very hard to convince them. I'd have gone if they'd wanted to, but Frank and Colin weren't into standing around in the cold rain just to have beads thrown at them, so we pretty much blew off the earlier parades. After all, there's always another day of parades, and the Goddess wouldn't be so cruel as to have the weather suck the day of Iris. Regardless, I love the Iris parade, and unless the streets were flooding, we were going. Besides, my sister, Rain, is one of the ladies of Iris, so going was also a family obligation. Actually, most of my relatives are in one parade or another, but Rain's appearance in Iris is the only one I care about.
Fortunately, that Saturday dawned bright and sunny and warm. All three of us had gotten up early, so we could go to the gym and pump upâas I said, the sexist ladies of Iris really notice muscles. We caught a ride with my best friend, David, Uptown, where he managed to find a place to park on Baronne, and walked the two blocks over to St. Charles Avenue.
That's another important thing to remember about Carnival.
Never
watch parades on Canal Street. That's where the mobs of tourists are, drunk and boisterous and pushing and shoving and just getting on your nerves. It's much more fun to go Uptown and watch along the St. Charles route. That's where the locals go. It isn't as crowded, there aren't any breasts being bared, and instead you can see what Carnival really is supposed to be likeâor what it was like before the college students found out about it. That's where you see families out with their kids, portable barbecues set up on the streetcar tracks, and coolers full of beer everywhere. Of course people are drinking, but New Orleanians know how to pace themselvesâafter all, we have to all year long. Drinking might be a city pastime,
de rigueur
for every social event in town, but you don't see people puking or passing out on St. Charles. You don't see men taking a piss in a corner.
Never
watch parades on Canal Street. That's where the mobs of tourists are, drunk and boisterous and pushing and shoving and just getting on your nerves. It's much more fun to go Uptown and watch along the St. Charles route. That's where the locals go. It isn't as crowded, there aren't any breasts being bared, and instead you can see what Carnival really is supposed to be likeâor what it was like before the college students found out about it. That's where you see families out with their kids, portable barbecues set up on the streetcar tracks, and coolers full of beer everywhere. Of course people are drinking, but New Orleanians know how to pace themselvesâafter all, we have to all year long. Drinking might be a city pastime,
de rigueur
for every social event in town, but you don't see people puking or passing out on St. Charles. You don't see men taking a piss in a corner.
Many locals leave town during Carnival. They're sick of the hordes of tourists, the problems getting around the cityâSt. Charles and Canal, the two main streets in the city, close for the parades, and it's easy to get trapped inside the parade route. I can only imagine how frustratingly annoying it must be to live Uptown during Carnival. There's also the familiarity. If you've been dealing with it your entire life, after a while I guess it can get old for some people, but I am not one of those people. After all, do you get sick of Christmas? And so far, it hasn't gotten old for me. I feel like a kid again every year when the parades roll. I don't believe I would ever get sick of Carnival. I love everything about it. I love the green, purple, and gold decorations everywhereâthe huge masks adorning balconies, the beads hanging from the tree branches and the telephone lines. I even love the tourists, even though they do stupid stuff they would never dare to do in a million years at home. I love the parades, catching throws, the nonstop fun atmosphere. I even like the pervasive smell of grease from the vendors hawking corn dogs and French fries and those bizarre sausage sandwiches made with fried onions and green peppers. I love the signs in front of bars advertising
BIG-ASS BEER $3.95â40 OUNCES
!! Okay, it's not like living in New Orleans is ever boring, mind youâit's kind of like living on a nonstop rollercoaster ride sometimesâbut Carnival is different. The whole city is in a festive mood, and everyone is relaxed and just wants to have a good time. What other American city throws such a huge party and invites the whole world to come join the fun?
BIG-ASS BEER $3.95â40 OUNCES
!! Okay, it's not like living in New Orleans is ever boring, mind youâit's kind of like living on a nonstop rollercoaster ride sometimesâbut Carnival is different. The whole city is in a festive mood, and everyone is relaxed and just wants to have a good time. What other American city throws such a huge party and invites the whole world to come join the fun?
Is it any wonder I love it here so much?
The first, dull floats had already passedâthe ones with the royalty of the krewe. Maids, dukes, duchesses, the court, the captain, the King and Queenâthese floats have only a couple of people on them and they can't throw as much stuff. The best ones are the later ones, which have as many as thirty people on them throwing stuff out with one hand while hanging on to their drink with the other. I could tell Frank and Colin were unimpressed so far by their first parade. They still had their shirts on, hadn't yelled once, and were standing back from the crowd with their arms crossed like the sticks-in-the-mud they were being. I'd caught a nice string of red beads from the Queen of Iris, and I had my shirt tucked into the back of my loose-fitting shorts, which just hung off my hips. I hadn't worn underwear, and the shorts had crept down almost to the top of my pubic hair. David had already taken his shirt off, and he'd caught some beads too. Frank and Colin, though, were just standing there with bemused expressions on their faces, their shirts still on. We were standing on the neutral ground, David and I down on the curb, Frank and Colin standing farther back on the slight upward slope on the other side of the streetcar tracks.
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