Sparkler Snapshots

XLII | Tardy On Mardi

"Mardi Gras, baby. Mardi Gras. Time when all manner of weird shit cuts loose and parties down." – Sherrilyn Kenyon

Date: February 13th, 2018

Occasion: Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Shrove Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday

Country: Worldwide

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XLII | Tardy On Mardi

Dear Poppy,

It's official, I want Mardi Gras to last forever. I also want to stay in New Orleans forever. Maybe I can convince dad to let me drop out of high school and find a job at Maccas. Mum and I spent months deciding whether to come here for Mardi Gras or visit the Carnaval in Rio, but my brother decided that Fat Tuesday was a funny name, so we went to the States.

New Orleans is actually what I expected Rio to look like, bursting with life and packed with people. Since Louisiana is kind of near the equator, the air here is humid and a bit sticky. Right, that's not the point of this letter.

So, this city is super festive during Mardi Gras. Everyone is excited and their enthusiasm is contagious, you know? I haven't stopped smiling since I got here. Also, I think my vision has been altered by the overload of colour. When I stepped out of the airport, oh man, I thought I'd been transported onto that crazy Mario Kart track. Rainbow Road, I think.

Right, so, when I talk about colour, I'm not referring to the stereotypical parade costumes, like the sequin bras and headdresses or whatever. I'm talking about the people themselves. Does it sound weird to say that the people bring the colours to life? Well, they do. Everyone's so lively and energetic that their presence brightens my mood, which is a nice contrast from home.

Speaking of home, New Orleans couldn't be any more different from New Zealand. I mean, besides the increased ratio of humans to sheep, these guys are way less chill than Kiwis. In a good way, of course. On the bad side, my claustrophobia flared up when we were among the crowd of bystanders. Also, it's super noisy during the night, which means it's hard to sleep.

Oh yeah, the parades and costumes, the most important parts. So, New Orleans is the central hub for everything to do with Mardi Gras. The holiday originated in France, as you could probably tell from the name, but it spread across the world, like a festive virus. Wait, I phrased that weirdly but you know what I mean.

This year, they went for a masquerade type theme. Loads of people wore masks covered in tiny jewels and sequins. There was also some kind of jester sub-theme, I think, since loads of floats had giant jester heads with their multicoloured harlequin hats. Those things actually freaked me out a bit. They had creepy grins that rubbed me the wrong way.

Oh, I should also tell you, the parades were on the weekend before Mardi Gras, not on the holiday itself. Since Mardi Gras is right before Lent, where people have to be on their best behaviour, people use these parades to let off some steam and party through the week.

Ah yes, I forgot about the most awesome thing! If you were here, you would've given me a slap on the shoulder for taking so long to get to this. The dogs, oh man, the adorable dogs. Owners have taken to bringing them to the parades, and world thanks them for it. Mum refuses to let me adopt a dog because it'll get fur on the couch, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Also, you're going to squeal when you read this. The dogs get their own parade. Yep, it's for real. The dogs get a whole parade for themselves. It's called the Krewe of Barkus.

Owners dress their dogs up with rainbow costumes, with their own masquerade masks to boot, and they sit in their own fancy floats. The dogs loved the attention, wagging their tails with their tongues hanging out as the crowd cheered. I know I've talked about the dogs for a while, but I'm sure you won't complain. They were the best part of Mardi Gras, hands down.

While the parades were going down, we also grabbed some free merch, straight from the floats. A group of women standing atop a fiery float were chucking beaded jewellery in every direction. I managed to snag a couple for you. I'll send them over to Aussie as soon as I can. Oh, some of them also showered me with a confetti of singular beads, which was fun.

The trick with grabbing as much merch as possible is to head to the end of the parade. The performers on the last few floats are desperate to get rid of their goodies before they reach the end. There was also a few kids, no older than eight, chucking lollies into the crowd. I managed to nab a handful. Also, do you know what Twizzlers are? We don't have those back home.

I should also talk about what I wore to the parade, I suppose. You demanded that I send pictures, but don't laugh when you see them.

I bought a pink and purple jester hat from some market stall and wore that to the events, along with the most flamboyant shirt I own. And yes, before you ask, it's the one you gave me on April Fools', the rainbow unicorn one. We were also running late, so I just grabbed whatever colourful monstrosity my hands reached first.

I'm flicking through the pictures right now, and that brings back memories. Namely, the lobster float. So, with no context, that looks weird, and even with context, it's still weird. A group of foodies built a float with giant red lobsters attached to the front. I have no idea what their inspiration was, but I gave them a tip as they went past.

Side note, I still don't understand how to tip. How much do we give? Why do we even have to do it? One of the waiters at the lobster restaurant we ate dinner at looked askance at us when we almost forgot to tip, and yes, I see the irony about the lobster thing.

I should stop rambling before this letter becomes a novel. The point is, Mardi Gras is awesome, I miss talking to you, and I hope this letter gets to you quickly. Next time you want to travel somewhere, go to New Orleans at this time of year. I know you'll fit right in with your crazy outfits and wacky personality. Just kidding, sort of.

Even though we can't see each other, we can celebrate Mardi Gras together. It's not called Fat Tuesday for nothing. Eat your heart out. After all, you call me sexy meatball for a reason. Gorge yourself and celebrate the right way. Maybe we can crash a masquerade ball when I get back. I've already grabbed a bunch of masks from the parade. Also, I miss you. Did I mention that?

Happy Mardi Gras, Pops. May you see a dog parade with your own eyes one day.

Love,
Greyson