Bulldozer00's Blog

…time to put my day-to-day responsibilities on hold and make my annual trek to New Orleans LA to celebrate Mardi Gras 2015.

At the time this post auto-publishes, I:

• will have arrived in NOLA with my best buddy Reno,
• checked in to the Crowne Plaza hotel on the corner of Bourbon and Canal Streets
• headed out into the night to join the party-goers on Bourbon St.

If you’re in NOLA anytime through Fat Tuesday, post a comment here or tweet me. Perhaps we can hook up for a fun time throwing and catching beads, eating cajun food, cruising the banks of the mighty Mississippi river, watching outrageously gawdy parades, and smiling our asses off. Life is too short for me to miss the greatest party on earth.

According to historians, Mardi Gras dates back thousands of years to pagan celebrations of spring and fertility, including the raucous Roman festivals of Saturnalia and Lupercalia. When Christianity arrived in Rome, religious leaders decided to incorporate these popular local traditions into the new faith, an easier task than abolishing them altogether. As a result, the excess and debauchery of the Mardi Gras season became a prelude to Lent, the 40 days of penance between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday. Traditionally, in the days leading up to Lent, merrymakers would binge on all the meat, eggs, milk and cheese that remained in their homes, preparing for several weeks of eating only fish and fasting. In France, the day before Ash Wednesday came to be known as Mardi Gras, or “Fat Tuesday.”

Last Wednesday, I returned home from a six day stint down in New Orleans as an active participant in the greatest party on earth: Mardi Gras! As I write this post seven days later, I’m still suffering from the well-known phenomenon of post-vacation depression. You all know this feeling. It’s the acute, but thankfully temporary, sadness that comes with the requirement to return to “normal” thinking, and doing, and being, after experiencing a glorious reprieve from the grind of responsible daily living.

This year’s MG trip was the fifth consecutive year (and eighth overall) in which: I danced the streets, watched the spectacularly colorful parades and creative street acts, tossed and caught beads from balconies, ate Po-boys/Muffalettas/Jambalaya/Beignets, and joyfully bathed in the fabulous sights, sounds, and atmosphere that is unique to Mardi Gras.

The Mardi Gras experience is difficult to describe to non-participants. It’s a time and place where 100s of thousands of people converge into one great big ball of intertwined happiness and generosity; and this includes the battalions of local and state police tasked to maintain a semblance of order amongst the cheerful, self-organized chaos.

With all the booze and energy that flows, you would think that many incidents of malfeasance and ill-will take place during the festivities. But remarkably, there are very few. That’s because we travel the streets in the French quarter with smiles on our faces, free and unburdened minds, and we savor each and every present moment as it unfolds. Ironically, the only unfriendly and uptight people at MG are the small clusters of self-righteous Jesus freaks sporting annoying bullhorns and big, nasty signs. They march around passing judgement down upon people they don’t know anything about.

I can’t wait till next year. I’ve already marked my calendar for Fat Tuesday: Feb 17, 2015. Perhaps you might want to mark yours too!

Rainee, this post is for you 🙂

And what will you be doing on FAT Tuesday, dear reader?

On 2/12/10, which should be the date of this post if I queued it correctly, I will be embarking on a trip to the Big Easy to experience my third Mardi Gras. I’ll be making the sojourn with my best friend Reno and we’ll be staying directly on ground zero (that’s Bourbon Street for the uninformed) till the fat lady sings “syonara” at midnight on Fat Tuesday. One of the reasons I’m doing this is because:

The purpose of life is to fight maturity. – Dick Werthimer

The so-called “fight” is easy for me because unlike most people (you perhaps?) my age,  I’m perpetually told that I’m immature by those “in the know”. OMG, keep that dude locked up behind closed doors!.

Experiencing the sights, sounds, smells (well, most of the smells), and the people at Mardi Gras is like a breath of fresh air and a respite for the weary. Excluding the religious zealots who are constantly screaming “repent or burn” in their megaphones, every person, including each state trooper on horseback,  is in a festive and jovial mood. The creative costumes and innocently weird behaviors that emerge from the spontaneous state of being are sights to behold. Wish you were here!