I’ve explained before that there’s more than one Mardi Gras. On Lundi Gras (Monday before Fat Tuesday) we’re usually Uptown for the epic Krewe of Orpheaus Parade. The floats and bands are incredible and the weather promised to be mild for the nighttime parade. This year, we decided to attend the Krewe of Red Beans parade in the Marigny instead.
Tag Archives: marigny
Krewe Boheme debuted in 2019 and rolled again in 2020, but the Bywater/Marigny/French Quarter walking parade had to sit last year out when Carnival parades were cancelled for the pandemic. Established by artists, the krewe’s symbol is a green fairy – the nickname for absinthe, a super-intoxicating liqueur. Continue reading
Normally I attend Sparta and Pygmalion’s parades, but this year I opted for the 4th Intergalactic Krewe of Chewbacchus parade. The Intergalactic Krewe of Chewbacchus describes itself as, “A Mardi Gras parade organization for the most revelrous Star Wars Freaks, Trekkies, Whovians, Mega-Geeks, Gamers, Cosplayers, Circuit Benders, Cryptozooligists, UFO Conspiracy Theorists, Mad Scientists and all the rest of Super Nerdom.”
It was a long walk from the Uptown parade route to the Marigny (about 4 miles) but it was fun passing all the children playing football and jumping rope with beads they’d just caught while we strolled through parade leftovers on St. Charles. When we arrived at the Chewbacchus route, it was immediately obvious that this was a crowd of mostly locals. Everyone stood respectfully on the curb and no one pushed past me to catch a throw. And the parade itself was pure New Orleans – full of music, creativity, pageantry, silliness and commentary. Continue reading
Wednesday, the super-cold day before Thanksgiving, the French Quarter was quiet. Even the eternal party on Bourbon Street was poorly attended. On our way to BlackKoldMadina‘s CD release party, we stopped into the Lost Love Lounge in the Marigny. The bar was promoting Hot Toddies and an American Horror Story-watching party, though it was a re-airing. Lost Love started as a neighborhood bar but has quickly become a destination club with a Vietnamese kitchen, karaoke and comedy nights, TV watching parties for HBO’s Treme, NOLA-shot American Horror Story, Walking Dead and, of course, Saints games. Continue reading
Last Friday, after 2 weeks of daily second lines in his memory, Treme Brass Band‘s bass drummer, Uncle Lionel Batiste, was to be laid to rest. To say it was raining doesn’t begin to cover it. Waiting for a streetcar to take me into town, I stood in the neutral ground wearing a plastic hoodie sack and rubber sandals and gripping an umbrella against water coming from all sides. When no streetcar appeared, I jumped onto a bus and we all stared out the windows at the flooding in the streets. It was pouring when the ride came to its final stop. Bourbon Street was a canal with water coming up over the sidewalks and into the shops’ open doors. By the time I crossed Rampart heading into Armstrong Park, the water was nearly knee high. Continue reading
I’ve spent most of my life in D.C., New York and L.A. That is to say, I’ve spent most of my life in tourist destinations, stuck in traffic behind someone with a map and sharing sidewalks with people looking up and pointing. New Orleans is yet another of these many destinations, a magical and historical place that attracts people from all over the world. Before I left the East Coast, I made a serious effort to enjoy the attractions people came from far and wide to see. I went to monuments and museums. Instead of seeing them through the eyes of a kid who’d “been there, done that” since my many elementary school field trips, I pretended I was from Nebraska and seeing it all for the first time. Continue reading