Mardi Gras 2014: A Rocckus Reunion and (Barely) Eyeing Endymion

PIRATE SURPLUS & GYPSY FRUGALITY

Pirate Captain & Krewe

Pirate Captain & Krewe

Since moving to New Orleans I have often had trouble sleeping soundly, but the night after my ride with Krewe of Morpheus I fell into sleep like a stone sinking to the deepest canyons of the Pacific. There I remained until late Saturday morning.

We’d planned on catching the two Uptown parades  that afternoon at my favorite coffee shop, Krewe du Brew, but that required crossing St. Charles before they closed the street off prior to the 11:00 a.m. parade My friends were as exhausted as I was, so by the time we all stirred, showered, and dressed it was past noon. We needed to be at House of Blues by 3:00 for a soundcheck party for the annual Better Than Ezra Mardi Gras show that night so decided to head to the French Quarter for the day.

Mardi Gras Gypsy & Medieval Pirate

Mardi Gras Gypsy & Medieval Pirate In the Masks They’d Found Friday

The day before while I was away with Morpheus, Kyle and Kelly had shopped for fancy Mardi Gras masks, their interest piqued by the simple ones I’d bought them. Kyle is in law school in Jacksonville and had already missed Friday so was planning to drive back Sunday; thus he and Kelly would miss Mardi Gras day when masking is near mandatory. Still, some people choose to dress up for parades and parties throughout Carnival, so I shared my lagniappe pirate gear with Kyle (and some with Aimee on Fat Tuesday; yes, I have enough pirate surplus to dress at least three other people!) while Aimee assembled the costume she’d brought and Kelly reluctantly donned the skimpy sequined gypsy top she’d purchased in her initial Mardi Gras intoxication the day before. We all laughed and encouraged her, assuring her she didn’t have to worry because wearing that she’d soon be covered in beads!

THE SLUGS & SLOTH SOCIAL AIDE & PLEASURE CLUB

First Line

First Line

By the time we parked up Esplanade and walked into the French Quarter, it was well into the afternoon and we were starved. We decided to try Coop’s Place where Aimee was determined to eat before leaving town. As we reached Royal Street, though, a strange sight interrupted us. During Mardi Gras…hell, anytime in New Orleans…you’re likely to be delayed by [Read more…]

Mardi Gras Guests & Playing Host: Paying It Forward

THE WAY BACK MARDI GRAS MACHINE

Beads Hung To Tantalize The Crowds

Mission Accomplished

By riding in Morpheus the Friday before Mardi Gras and walking with Chewbacchus the weekend prior I was able to compare and contrast the two approaches and fulfill one of the main goals of this blog: To experience and write about Mardi Gras as an insider and host rather than an observer and guest.

My Three Guests: A Late But Memorable First Night

My Three Guests:
A Late But Memorable First Night

Although these two parades were certainly pinnacles, my Mardi Gras 2014 adventure was far from over. Moreover, it was enhanced by not only playing host in the larger sense of participating in parades, but in the more personal sense (as is traditional) of opening my home to three friends whom I’ve already introduced. Inviting Mardi Gras guests and playing host holds particular resonance for me as I look back to the hospitality extended to me as I first experienced this amazing festival which shocked me with its breadth and scope. Like so many others, I came in believing it was merely the world’s biggest block party where flashing and drunkenness were practically perquisites. I was shocked to find this was the exception, not the rule, and so as I write about how it felt to now extend this hospitality and education to Carnival newbies, I feel the need to take a trip to the Way Back when I arrived in town wide eyed and undereducated.

LOOKING BACK & PAYING IT FORWARD

Melvin Back to Volunteer In 1996

Melvin Back to Volunteer In 1996

I first fell in love with New Orleans when I drove from Tallahassee for Jazz Fest 1998, returning the next year and having an even greater time though I wouldn’t have thought that possible. Just after Jazz Fest 1999, though, I moved to Richmond, Virginia to attend the Occupational Therapy program at VCU and wouldn’t have a break (or a dime) during Jazz Fest 2000. I was bummed out, but Karen Walsh, a friend who lived outside of New Orleans that I knew from Camp Easter Seals, had extended an open invitation to come stay during Mardi Gras. When I realized at the last minute [Read more…]

Riding In a Mardi Gras Parade: Morpheus 2014, part 3

JUMPING UP & DOWN, DANCING, & HAVING FUN (‘NUFF SAID)

Around the time my guests who’d I barely glimpsed receded behind our Jefferson Avenue float at the mouth of Lee Circle, fellow rider Debbie Cleary Rayor (who provided the video last post) experienced a particularly awesome moment of magic connection between crowd and rider:

I had several moments like that even from the top-level. By far my favorite was when I saw an elderly woman with 2 toddlers standing back from the crowd. I somehow managed to throw a Morpheus sheep far enough so that they could catch it. The woman was SO happy as she handed it to 1 of the kids. Due to the space/time vortex we’re in as the parade rolls, I was able to throw a Morpheus moon as well. She handed it to the other child & the 3 of them went crazy! Jumping up & down, DANCING, laughing, & having fun. They had no idea who threw the stuff & I didn’t care. It was just awesome that they were so happy.

Debbie & Her Krewe

Debbie & Her Krewe

Thus is the magic of Mardi Gras. Part of the impetus for this blog was to shed light on all the misconceptions floating around the non-Delta parts of this great nation, for it truly is a life affirming, community binding, spiritually nourishing beacon of light during the darkest part of the calendar. Yes, like our great nation its roots were intertwined with racism, violence, and condensation of the wealthy on the working class and poor. Like our great nation, it continues to struggle with many of these issues. Like our great nation, there are plenty of crass and classless citizens eager to besmirch its reputation while exploiting it for the lowest common denominator. But like our great nation, it is so much greater than a sum subtraction of its flaws, providing an oasis of hope and light in a harsh and unforgiving world.

And that concludes the soapbox portion of the program.

BLEACHER BUMS & MISSED OPPORTUNITIES TO SEE THE FUTURE

Lee Circle During Mardi Gras http://www.rrikbeck.com/new_orleans.htm

Lee Circle During Mardi Gras
http://www.rrikbeck.com/new_orleans.htm

Past the wide open expanse of Lee Circle (a traffic circle housing a statue upon a giant staired pedestal at its core) St. Charles Avenue narrows to a one-way street that flows Uptown except for the two weeks during Mardi Gras when a flood of parades rush down its final 8 block to Canal Street. Whereas St. Charles is the main artery running through Uptown, Canal is the other of the city’s two main cultural and commercial arteries (Bourbon is more famous, but carries little traffic and serves as more a [Read more…]

Riding In a Mardi Gras Parade: Morpheus 2014, part 2

PREMATURE PROJECTILE DISORDER

Jefferson Avenue Rolls Down St. Charles

Jefferson Avenue Rolls Down St. Charles
(Courtesy of Kyle Pantuso)

As we turned away from the river onto Jefferson Avenue (our float’s namesake!) a small crowd was waiting, though we wouldn’t ‘officially’ be underway until we turned back downriver along Magazine Street. By now, though, the anticipation was killing us and we began tossing beads and a few specialty items to the modest crowd as we passed these four ‘unofficial’ blocks.

Magazine Street, like St. Charles and Tchoupitoulas, runs the entire length of Uptown paralleling the river, housing the main commercial artery of Uptown. We would follow it for nearly a mile, turn away from the river again onto Napoleon for seven blocks, and continue upriver via St. Charles for three miles back to Canal Street which divides the French Quarter from ‘downtown’ or the Central Business District. After turning down Canal towards the river for four blocks we’d turn back on Tchoupitoulas, ending where we began. (This should give you an idea of the parade box trapping much of Uptown that I’ve spoken of previously.)

Although Secure In My Manhood, I Must Admit Don's (Right) Was Bigger Than Mine

Although Secure In My Manhood, I Must Admit Don’s (Right) Was Bigger Than Mine (Left)

As we crept along Jefferson waiting to make that final turn past ‘Go,’ my mind raced trying to figure out how to ration my seemingly modest pile of throws. Don’s and Kim’s, were double mine in size, though I did note they had a lot of medium-sized inflated balls, fleur-de-lis footballs, and long toy spears that took up a lot of space but would go quickly. I’d collected bags of plain beads in all sizes and colors with a little help from my friends (Kyle, Kelly, & Aimee; K.R.A.P. at Nyx; Krewe du Brew; and two bags left over from Mardi Gras 2011 via my Jacksonville friends) and these are compact and small so I should be able stretch them out. Still, as we at long last we made that critical turn I tentatively threw plain beads along with a few blue & sliver Morpheus moon & star strands, terrified that in my excitement I’d blow my multi-colored load before we were halfway through!

THREE SHEETS TO THE SOLAR WIND

My Bead Magnets (& Kyle) Back At Work At Lee Circle

My Bead Magnets (& Kyle) Back At Work At Lee Circle

I don’t now if it was the VH1 incident or a flat tire on a float or something else, but it was around 8:30 by the time we started to roll. Kyle and Aimee would text from Lee Circle where they were waiting at 10:08 (though I wouldn’t see the text until after the parade) to see if we had in fact been cancelled. Apparently there was a long wait after Krewe D’etat and much of the crowd was leaving. By then, though, we were well underway.

In 2011 My Jacksonville Friends Lustily Catching Beads I'd Throw Back in 2014

In 2011 My Jacksonville Friends Lustily Catching Beads I’d Throw Back in 2014

As we now crept in motion, I was definitely in full party mode. Even after a year of living in New Orleans I rarely drink to the point of true intoxication, yet had sailed through Chewbacchus three sheets to the solar wind and had lustily hit the open bar at Generations Hall while I rocked out to Bag of Donuts. On the float I had kept the spirit alive with beer and Jello shots. Once we were rolling in earnest, however, I wouldn’t even pause to think of taking a sip, completely oblivious that I had a beer open. In fact, once we started I didn’t think we were ever going to stop!

K.R.A.P. Lends A Hand

K.R.A.P. Lends A Hand

I’ve seen enough Mardi Gras parades to know that most of them cruise along for a while, get held up for a few minutes, start back up, and soon stall again. I don’t think this is by design and can be frustrating to viewers caught up in a frenzy of bead lust but provides time to reload and regroup if you’re a rider. Or so I guess. Perhaps it was that we were late or maybe we had unusually good fortune and a clear path, but once we hit Magazine we didn’t stop until we were almost downtown.

TIME WARPS…

I beg forgiveness for any distortions of time or space that have occurred in this recounting so far. They’re only going to get worse from here on out!

My heart was pumping with excitement as we began to greet the crowds, and my mind raced trying to soak it all in, struggling to process the instant bombardment of pleas from the people piled several rows deep on the sidewalk. It felt like we were doing 70 mph as we zoomed past the eager faces and outstretched hands, yet in actuality we would travel a paltry 5 miles in about two and a half hours, which is slower than I walk!

Footage of Frantic Crowds Taken From Atop Our Float: Courtesy of Debbie Cleary Raynor

I had been advised to [Read more…]

Riding In a Mardi Gras Parade: Morpheus 2014, part 1

THE REVENGE OF MAX HEADROOM

Beads Hung To Tantalize The Crowds

Setting Up In Tight Quarters

For our theme of Morpheus Cruises the Streets of New Orleans I was riding on float #6: Jefferson Avenue. To add a little extra flair to our Jeffersonian theme (and surely surpass the minimum required 15 pieces of flair), float lieutenant Kim Morgan glued a glitter outlined replica of the Declaration of Independence to the top of each hat. As I boarded the float in front of Generations Hall, though, there was a minor problem. I couldn’t stand up!

Although I didn’t have a tape measure, I’m pretty sure the clearance on the bottom level was about 6’6” between the horizontal rafters which hung much lower. I’m 6’4” so when I tried to stand my Declaration pushed against the ceiling, and I was certain I was going to knock myself out before the end of the ride on one of the low hanging impediments.

Jefferson Avenue Parked Outside Generations Hall

Jefferson Avenue Parked Outside Generations Hall

Waving in Kim’s direction, I informed her I needed to perform surgery, but she was so frazzled trying to wrangle the krewe in place that she just shrugged with a look of exasperation. “Do what ya gotta do!”

She’d used some mighty powerful glue, though, and the thick foam board wouldn’t detach so I finally ripped it in half. Even with the document removed, the top of my Shriners-style hat scraped the ceiling. And such are the tight quarters on a Mardi Gras float.

50 SHADES OF PURPLE, GREEN, & GOLD (ONE MAN’S TORTURE IS ANOTHER MAN’S TITILLATION)

Where Do The Riders Stand?!

Where Do The Riders Stand?!

I didn’t realize until Thursday loading day how tightly packed riders are, having little room left to stand once they load aboard all the goodies they’ll throw back to the crowd. Yet we’d be squeezed on here for at least six hours with nowhere to sit while wearing itchy costumes, plus masks for about half that time. (Legally masks must be worn during the parade, but the wait is just as long as the ride!)

Floats Under Construction At Mardi Gras World

Floats Under Construction At Mardi Gras World

Back in August I witnessed the actual construction of such a float while visiting and posting about Mardi Gras World. These giant jolly rolling boxes are framed with steel I-beams atop a trailer chassis, then the sides and center stairwell are filled out with plywood. Mercifully portalets are also built into the frame.

The upstairs is open above the waist-high wall but the floor creates a low ceiling below lined with hooks for hanging beads. Although convenient for storage, these bead repositories are really meant to tantalize the crowd so they can view the specialty beads that many will beg for but few will receive; however, an unintended but equally important function is served as the beads create a barrier and visual cue that keeps you from knocking yourself out on an I-beam, as I feared!

Aimee and Blue NinjaThe barrier is also waist-high below and is drilled with holes where you can screw in additional hooks, though I learned you needed to purchase these yourself. Eye hooks are sunk at regular intervals atop this wall for attaching your harness–you must remain strapped during the route or police can pull you from the float. (And that past Sunday two unharnessed riders had toppled off, as mentioned previously.)

Being strapped in such a tiny rolling box in cloying costumes while on your feet all day serving an encroaching mob of screaming strangers almost sounds like punishment. At the very least you’d think it was a crummy high school summer job at some local theme park; yet we had all paid good money for this privilege and were psyched out of our minds to do so, some traveling from all corners of the country. Again it’s good to note that Mardi Gras is [Read more…]

Mardi Gras 2014: Fueling Up For Krewe of Morpheus Parade With A Bag of Donuts

TOO TIRED TO GREASE A POLE

Welcome to Bourbon Street!

Welcome to Bourbon Street!
(No Wonder We Were Moving Slow!)

The night before my big day with Morpheus my friend Aimee had driven from Jacksonville for her first Mardi Gras, bringing nephew Kyle who is in law school there. His girlfriend, Kelly, flew in from San Antonio where they’re all from (though she was born in Baltimore) and it was the couple’s first trip to New Orleans at all. Thus, I’d rushed them to the Muses parade and then took them for their first (and only of the trip) obligatory stroll down Bourbon Street as is legally required of first timers. I wanted their first night in town to be memorable—mission accomplished (more on this in future posts)—but we stayed out much later than was wise before such a monumental day, for I’d been warned that riding on a Mardi Gras float was the longest—though greatest—day ever.

Thus Friday morning we missed the ‘Greasing of the Poles.’ Pole Greasing

For 44 years now the Royal Sonesta Hotel on Bourbon Street has been greasing the poles supporting their balcony to discourage onlookers seeking a better view, and I wanted to take the gang to see this spectacle although I was skeptical before they arrived that we’d actually get moving in time. The Greasing of the Poles began when parades used to roll through the narrow streets of the French Quarter before they grew too big and moved Uptown, yet the ceremonial ‘greasing of the poles’ continues. (And, besides, there’s still plenty to see on Bourbon, per the much publicized flashing that is mostly contained to this area.) New Orleans loves an excuse to party, so the suggestiveness of [Read more…]

Mardi Gras 2014: Mor-pheus Frenzy Before the Parade

LOGO MEDALLIONS: THE CURE FOR BEAD AMNESIA

Picking Up My Morpheus Booty!

Picking Up My Morpheus Booty!

While my brother Jerry was visiting a couple of weeks ago, I dragged him along to play photo journalist during Morpheus ‘pick-up’ day at Plush Appeal. I’d decided to forego the $360 package, but still spent well over $200 piecing together logo novelties and extra plush throws. I could have gotten generic plush toys and beads for cheaper, but for me a lot of the fun is catching a specialty souvenir from each parade. It’s a ton of fun catching big and elaborate beads, and I still cherish the Saints beads I caught one year, but couldn’t tell you at which parade. Over time you forget even where the gargantuan beads came from, but a logo and date will bring a smile to your face and flush of memories every time. Still I’d saved money by ordering only 3 bags of the specialty Morpheus beads with blue and silver moons and stars, and no medallions were available for ala carte, which was a bummer.

LIKE A LITTLE PIRATE ON CHARRRRISTMAS EVE!

W/Kim Morgan: World's Greatest Float Lieutenant

W/Kim Morgan:
World’s Greatest Float Lieutenant

As I pulled up in front of Plush Appeal, I was as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve. There was already a large line snaking through the warehouse next door where distribution was occurring, though I hopped out of place to greet Kim, my awesome float lieutenant. As I waited for the krewe to piece together my order she instructed me to grab my hat from her silver SUV. I walked into the parking lot and looked around.  Every third car was a silver SUV! Doh! I’ve come to realize that that is sooo Kim.

2014-02-15 11.37.42After a little detective work I found the correct car and returned to find five heavy Morpheus bags and a giant Plush Appeal shopping bag waiting. And this was a modest package which I still needed to supplement! Yikes!

2014-02-15 11.41.06After I lugged my haul to the truck, Jerry and I wandered next door to the actual store, which he observed was [Read more…]

Mardi Gras 2014: Ancient Druids & Nyx in Pictures

ANCIENT DRUIDS & NYX: OSHUN & CLEOPATRA

 

2014-02-26 20.45.04

Nyx Grand Marshal Susan Spicer

Yesterday was rainy, cold, and wet. Even at a little after 5:00 as I rushed to Krewe du Brew, my favorite New Orleans coffee shop, to blog and try and beat the closing of St. Charles Avenue it was cold and drizzly.

2014-02-26 20.29.03

The K.R.A.P. Krewe Gathers

Ah, but the Gods of Carnival shined upon us. The ladies (and Pimp Daddy Bryan ‘Rocksteady’) from K.R.A.P. were gathering to watch two of our own parade in Nyx, the all female krewe that formed three years ago with Muses membership (the reigning sarcastic hipster queen of female krewes) and has quickly swelled to over 1,300 riders and rivals Muses for top diva–countering their custom shoe throws with hand decorated purses.

2014-02-26 19.43.59

The Purple Pirate Cradles Krewe du Brew Coffee On A Night When Ice Cream Wouldn’t Melt

K.R.A.P. co-founder and Thunderlord Rachel Unger was riding in float 21 and last-minute Mordor refugee Ann Thompson was in #12. A few others were mixed in as well. Their Chewbacchus compatriots made [Read more…]

Chewbacchus Mardi Gras Parade 2014, Episode 3: Return of the Truck Guy

PETER PARKER PASSED A PECK OF PAYING PARTIERS

Chewbacchus Masterminds Ryan Ballard and Brett Power Powow at Chewbacchanal (Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Chewbacchus Masterminds Ryan Ballard and Brett Power Powow at Chewbacchanal
(Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Earlier as I’d marched with Chewbacchus I’d periodically run into—sometimes quite literally—a darting and jumping Spiderman who’d apologize before swinging off again. No offense taken. We were all stumbling by that point! As I arrived at the Trash Palace, though—so named because it was a disposal company warehouse before purchased with plans (plans, not reality yet!) to make it an events space—where I was supposed to take money from public entrants into Chewbacchanal, I found Spiderman already frantically trying to keep up with the steady stream of public partygoers. I was supposed to start at 10:00 but had rushed straight from the parade so figured I’d be fine, yet the public was arriving before we’d even quit rolling. I worked the door for two hours and the procession remained so steady that I never learned Spider Man’s secret identity!

DOUCHE LITMUS

Chewbacchanal Babes (Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Chewbacchanal Babes
(Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

I’m not sure what folks thought, having a giant in drag taking their cash, but it gave me a chance to extend the gag. Admission was $10 in costume and $15 without and sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference. There is so much obscure fandom out there that I gave the discount to every offended entrant who was affronted by my ignorance. There were also a lot of people on the guest list, and if I couldn’t find their name it was a judgment call. If they were a douche it was no dice, but if they were cool and convincing Spiderman just shrugged and we let them pass. I’d had zero seconds training, so it was all spontaneous crisis management!

Despite a few double D-bags, I was enjoying meeting folks and checking out the outrageous costumes, for some parade fans were as decked out as the participants. I would often ask for $15 from people in the gaudiest, most outrageous costumes just to see the reaction of the half that didn’t instantly get the joke.

NO BACKSTAGE PASSES PLEASE!

Red Shirt Volunteers Gather Around Their Complimentary Keg (Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Red Shirt Volunteers Gather Around Their Complimentary Keg
(Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Chrissy is tour manager for Galactic—one of the first New Orleans bands I came to love and still a favorite—and this expertise led to her recruitment as Event Planner General for Chewbacchus; thus, she was the one coordinating this party and who’d recruited me to work the door. Therefore it shouldn’t have been a surprise when a guy came up and said, “My name’s Robert Mercurio—I should be on Chrissy’s list.” I did a double take. “Hell, yeah, you are.” It was Galactic’s phenomenal bass player. “Of course you’re on the list,” I gushed with a lack of coolness—but, hey, I was in a dress and wig so I added: “I’m a big fan.” He did a double take at Lt. Uh-the-horruh and thanked me for listening as I waved him and his group through. I’m sure he was hoping I never made it back stage.

A RAGING PARTY/THE QUIET AFTER THE STORM

Spiderman and I continued to furiously take wads of cash and slap on wrist bands since our reinforcements never arrived. Chrissy finally showed up and apologized profusely, but I didn’t mind. I was still working the crowd. Sometime after 11:00 she returned with replacements and I wandered into the large, unadorned warehouse where a brass band was playing on a portable stage to an enormous crowd. No wonder we’d been so busy!

Chewbacchanal (Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Chewbacchanal
(Courtesy of Franzia Ellers)

Without a parade or people handing me wads of cash I’d lost my permission again, so I wandered the floor lost. I chatted with a couple of K.R.A.P. members, was handed a shot of something that glowed, and got knighted with a special Chewbacchus medallion by another Uhura who declared my consumed most beautiful of the night.

By now, though, these expensive cheap costume boots (why are specialty costumes so costly and yet be made so cheaply?!) were wearing unbearable blisters on my feet so I wandered outside for some air where I ran into some friends from the pre-party. When they wandered off, though, I started the long trek back to my truck.

SCAR TREK (TAXI) SCREW: THE WRATH OF CORNS

A few years ago I learned about the futility of catching a cab during Mardi Gras the hard way. After Better Than Ezra’s annual show that my Jacksonville friends had skipped, I started at 1a.m. trying to get a cab alone to Metairie. Stranded in the CBD late at night, I was in full panic mode after a few hours, but met a girl also trying to get to Metairie so we joined forces. When a taxi finally stopped at 4:30 we offered to pay any cost to get us the hell out of there!

Starfleet, We Have a Problem!

What? You Won’t Stop for THIS Guy!

As I left Chewbacchanal and walked down Elysian Fields, dressing in drag didn’t help change my past luck. Giving up on a cab the time I turned down St. Claude, I pulled up a map on my phone and almost cried when I saw how far away my truck was. It was after 1 a.m. but fortunately the streets were fairly busy for I wasn’t sure how safe it was here on the edge of Bywater in the 9th Ward.

As I stumbled along gingerly, several panhandlers approached me, apparently nonplussed by my drag. I merely huffed, waved a hand down my dress, and said, “Do you think I’d be walking if I had cab money?” Considering the hour and my location, it was a justifiable lie.

The boots soon began to hurt so bad that I took them off and walked barefoot in my hose, but the asphalt shredded my feet into hamburger. In truth, it was only a couple of miles walk and normally I scoff at people who act like a mile or two stroll is epic. As I hissed with every hesitant, slow, and painful step, though, two miles was a daunting distance that would easily take an hour. I just kept telling myself ‘This too shall pass,’ and almost cried with joy when my truck finally came into view!

MAN UP LIKE THE LADIES

Chrissy, Event Overlord, Takes a Break From Breaking Down To Share Stories

Chrissy, Event Overlord, Takes a Break From Breaking Down To Share Stories

I’d quit drinking at the party since I had to drive and my scar trek was definitely sobering, so my system was cleaned out by the time I hit the pillow. The next morning I didn’t feel too bad.

I didn’t feel too good, either!

As I lay in bed sipping coconut water and watching LA Confidential, I dreamed of the amazing pancakes I’d had at the Frost Stop when my brother, Jerry, was visiting, yet could barely stand on my hamburger feet. I settled for cereal instead.

Bryan 'Rocksteady' (Left) Checks His Phone To See Who He'd Drunk Dialed

Bryan ‘Rocksteady’ (Left) Checks His Phone To See Who He’d Drunk Dialed

I’d told Chrissy I’d help clean up, though, and had gotten caught up with the parades Friday and missed setup, so soon sucked it up. It meant missing Sunday’s parades, but I couldn’t walk and the weather was horrendous, anyhow. I hope you weren’t waiting for photos!

Although salvage began a noon it was 1:00 before I rolled in, but there was plenty left to do. I quickly located Chrissy, who had somehow twisted her ankle and was limping so good thing I didn’t wimp out, and she put me to work lifting and loading, soon pressing my NOLA christened truck into service. Everyone was still in a good if subdued mood, and as we shared stories apparently I was one of many that commented on seeing Bryan ‘Rocksteady’ Tibbets wandering around in a smiling daze. Everyone seemed to remember but him!

EPISODE III: RETURN OF THE TRUCK GUY (SWEET DREAMS INDEED)

My Figurative Train Wreck Housing Search Becomes A Literal Truck Wreck

My NOLA Christened Truck

Still, after the amazing night that had passed, it was hard not to feel let down that it was over. In most trilogies, it’s common criticism that the middle installment is the weakest—a mere transitional vehicle—although the franchise that inspired ChewbacchusStar Wars—is the famous exception. I’d guess a narrow majority of fans [although I’m sure my Facebook and blog comments are about to blow up!] and lion’s share of critics rank Empire Strikes Back as the best installment. (I’d have to admit Star Trek II is the best, as well, despite the fact that IV was my favorite film as a teen. But that’s more like a baker’s dozen than a trilogy!)

This Star Wars inspired trilogy of posts is also such an exception, making me almost want to skip part III, though I’m too obsessive to leave loose ends! I’ve spent a year working up to this and wanted to document what it’s like before, during, and after. The after, though, is all bittersweet memory.

Thus it was with a mix of satisfaction and longing for next year that we hauled our heavy equipment to the Den of Muses where I picked up the K.R.A.P. trike and grocery cart. All I wanted to do by then was find food and take a nap, but first had to run by Danielle’s house to pick up my left over black-eyed peas and collards and then drop the trike and cart off at Rachel’s. This endless list of chores soon began to feel as long as my trek to the truck as my headache returned, but it was a small price to pay for the high of the night before. As my head finally hit the pillow sometime after 5:00, my phone beeped with a message from Rachel: “Thanks for being the truck guy.”

The truck guy.

I was a man again.

THANK GOD!!! That would surely make me sleep easy.

CHECK OUT MORE AMAZING CHEWBACCHUS PHOTOS BY FRANZIA ELLERS!

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Chewbacchus Parade 2014, Episode 2: The Empire Struts Back

SHOCKS & STRUTS: SWINGING LIKE A STEAM-DRIVEN PENDULUM

2014-02-22 18.14.13As Chewbacchus slowly groaned to life along N. Peters Street a few onlookers gathered along our forming line. K.R.A.P.’s segment of this weaving serpent nearly 1000 people strong (800 paying members, over a hundred red shirts, and several marching bands) was smack dab in the middle, but finally followed the head in motion. After taking an awe-struck moment to soak it in I started experimenting with my crowd flirting technique, throwing a few beads and an occasional furry koozie or some merkin panties. (The bandoliers were the big guns, so I was saving those.)

The Parade Lines Up

The Parade Lines Up

It took me a few minutes to warm up, but I’m as much an actor as a writer at heart and may have missed my calling. Performers tend to be quiet and introverted, but give them a stage and your attention (ie. permission) and they spring to life in bold Technicolor. Thus, by the time we rounded the corner to travel the block up Esplanade by the French Quarter before turning on Frenchmen Street, I was fully in character and struttin’ my stuff. This quiet, reflective writer that had tentatively poked and prodded at the Chewbacchus ranks trying to find a pocket of quiet inclusion suddenly became a [Read more…]