Krewe of Red Beans

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. 

Founded in 2009, the Krewe of Red Beans began with a small group of school teachers and newcomers to New Orleans.

Krewe Boheme Parade 2022

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.

House Floats Wrap-Up

This year’s Carnival season was much quieter this year. No parades with their marching bands and screaming crowds. No music venues packed with dancing patrons. Bourbon Street was closed. In fact, the French Quarter shut down liquor sales in the French Quarter for the final weekend of Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday. But New Orleans managed to make the best of a bad situation and came up with some fairly marvelous distractions. City Park created a drive-thru parade – Floats in the Oaks – as a safe way to see the floats, maybe catch a dance krewe, and relive some memories. I got to dance twice with my fellow Pussyfooters and it was pretty great being able to make people smile as they drove by.

But is was “Yardi Gras” that really gave the city something to smile about. Another socially distanced version of Mardi Gras, Yardi Gras turned thousands of houses and businesses throughout New Orleans (and as far away as Australia and Abu Dhabi) into parade floats.

House Floats – Algiers

“Yardi Gras,” the 2021 socially distanced version of Mardi Gras, has turned houses and businesses throughout New Orleans into parade floats. The grassroots Krewe of House Floats promoted this safe parade concept, encouraging people to use local businesses and artists to help decorate their places, or go DIY, then register on their map. The Krewe’s founder, Megan Boudreaux, lives in Algiers Point and we found her headquarters, the USS House Float. I can’t imagine she realized thousands of people would create house floats as far away as Australia and Abu Dhabi when she first came up with the Krewe.  

I’ve already covered the Marigny, the French Quarter, St. Charles Ave.,  Magazine Street, the Irish Channel, Mid-City, and the Garden District and Lower Garden District.

House Floats – Marigny

If you read my last post of the fabulous costumes of Fat Tuesday, you’ve already seen a few of the house floats in the Marigny, the neighborhood across Esplanade from the French Quarter. “Yardi Gras,” the 2021 socially distanced version of Mardi Gras, has turned houses and businesses throughout the city (and even the world) into parade floats. The grassroots Krewe of House Floats promoted this safe parade concept, encouraging people to use local businesses and artists to help decorate their places, or go DIY, then register on their map. The spectacular displays by float artists like Kern Studios have turned one St. Charles Ave. yard into a circus and another into a jurassic park – with top hats and masques.

Krewes of ‘tit Rex & Chewbacchus

While the giant Krewes of Sparta and Pygmalion floats rolled Uptown, we watched the miniature parade, ‘tit Rex, and the wonky and wonderful Intergalactic Krewe of Chewbacchus parade Downtown. A reaction to the super Krewe parades, ‘tit Rex was inspired by the tradition of kids decorating shoeboxes and parading them through school. This was my first time making it across town in time for the parade and it was everything I’d heard. The crowds were huge and the floats were tiny, creative and often satirical.

Krewe of Chewbacchus Parade

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.

BlackKoldMadina, Thanksgiving and HBO’s Treme

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.

Uncle Lionel’s Funeral and Second Line

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.

St. Louis Cemetery #1 and Armstrong Park

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.