MARDI GRAS BEADS ON IRON FENCE IN NEW ORLEANS

Mardi Gras Report 2017 #1 – Uptown

I will begin with an Uptown report as I haven’t been downtown or to the French Quarter or anywhere else lately unless you count Interstate 10, which I don’t. I was in Metairie once but I wasn’t paying attention.

I’m sitting in Coliseum Square on as fine a day as even William Faulkner could have conjured for New Orleans – 73 degrees, light breeze, not much humidity and cotton ball clouds in a sky of Ford blue.

Just now, I paused to watch an elderly gentleman slip into the park as gently as a skiff sails into harbor. He was trim, dressed in a sweater vest, white shirt and proper straw hat. He leaned forward a bit at the hips and steered his ancient, still seaworthy vessel ably, setting the tip of his cane with confidence. He kept a steady course, not too slow, not too fast, eyes forward, a relaxed hand at the tiller. He was not a tourist. He was from here; you can always tell. This wasn’t his first excursion ‘round the oaks.

In such a fashion Carnival revisits New Orleans once again, slowly, steadily, as natural and welcome as Spring.

If you look closely in January, you can see Mardi Gras begin to bloom. Faded beads on iron fence posts suddenly are replaced with shiny ones worn home from last year’s parades and stored in the attic. King cakes, of course, derail half-hearted low-carb diets. Purple, green and gold show up in windows, across front porches, by cash registers and on television.

It seems popular among locals to hold Mardi Gras enthusiasm cards close to the vest, lest one be caught acting like a tourist. Even when parades arrive, the resident tempers his desire.

“You going to the parades tonight, Jake?”

“Oh, I might take the kids.”

Nonsense. He and his family krewe show up with chairs and coolers and a box of Popeye’s chicken at the same corner for the same parades every year, rain or shine. You couldn’t keep them away.

Speaking of corners, I don’t know what’s going on farther up St. Charles Avenue by the Rex crowd neighborhoods but the Lower Garden District is under attack by Boh Brothers, the large engineering firm that is pretty much the only organization that can be counted upon to do things correctly in this town.

Sidewalks at every corner are being jackhammered and replaced with snazzy, new ramps for the handicapped. Other pedestrian hazards also are being addressed. Locals should avoid from Lee Circle to at least Jackson, as one lane is closed in each direction to accommodate trucks and construction crews.

I was assured by a red-bearded, safety yellow-vested concrete saw operator, let’s call him Bruce, that Boh Brothers will have everything on the river side of the avenue finished and cleaned up before parades roll. Hey, if you can’t believe Bruce, who can you believe?

Y’all need to get down here.

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Guy D. Johnson is a writer and marketing communications professional. Previously an animation studio owner, daily newspaper editor, reporter and photographer, volunteer fireman, railroad bridge gang helper, FM radio station underling and cave guide. He has lived on farmland trusted to the sun and rain; atop a wooded hill; beside great rivers; upon an arid, high plateau; and at the subtropical coast of the Gulf of Mexico. For 20 years, he worked and wrote in New Orleans.

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