Go to the Mardi Gras

Growing up in New Orleans, Mardi Gras was always a fun time.  It was a week off of school.  It was a couple of weeks where business hours were a little more flexible.  It was the only time of year you could find king cakes.  It also became routine and something that could be taken for granted.  Surely, everybody else got excited about what costume they would wear this year.  Surely, everybody owns a second ladder – one with a bench for small children affixed to the top of it.  Surely, everybody drank their milk out of Mardi Gras cups while eating dinner.  Surely, everybody knows how to “second line.”

It wasn’t until I got older, traveled a bit, and eventually moved away that I realized a sad truth…In almost every other city, Fat Tuesday is just a plain, uneventful Tuesday in February or March (depending on the year).  It is a reason that I know what it means to miss New Orleans.

So, going back to NOLA this year for the first weekend of carnival season was important for a couple of reasons.  It was a good feeling to get back and see what I have been missing.  But, also, it was a good way to indoctrinate my children to New Orleans at its best.  Hopefully it will get them to feel the same way I do.  Logan went to his first Mardi Gras parades last year with his mom.  The noise was a bit much for him and the bombardment of sights and sounds tired him out.  He feel asleep, but only after borrowing Cousin Michael’s “Baylen Brees style” noise reduction headset.  Catherine was still a bit too young for her first trip with immobility and unpredictable, but frequent sleep patterns as her downfall.

This year was different.  Logan thrived in the scene this year.  His confidence and familiarity allowed him to truly enjoy the experience.  He was enthralled with the marching bands, particularly the brass horns.  Catherine was overwhelmed by all the lights and people, but really loved the furry stuffed animals we caught.

Mardi Gras 2013 was truly a different experience for me, even though I had been to countless parades in my life.  It was a déjà vu of sorts as well.  I saw the parades and the whole city through the eyes of a child again.  I felt the excitement that had almost become secondary after so many carnival seasons, because it felt new again.  I saw the excitement in the eyes of my children.  I was an ambassador for the city, but more importantly, I was a dad trying to give my children the fun, loving memories I had growing up.