You either attack Mardi Gras or you hide from it

So that was the advice of a friend from New Orleans. I spend a lot of time in the Big Easy, but have never been to Mardi Gras. I hate crowds (married to a cop too long). I hate parades (nothing but a traffic hassle). I hate people throwing things at me (bad experience as a nerd in P.E.).

But as a person who tries to experience everything life has to offer, I figured during this weekend’s trip – the last before Fat Tuesday – I had to go to at least one parade. We chose Endymion, one of the “super krewes”. Fortunately, I didn’t have to attack as the normal tourist. I joined my resident friends so parking was not a problem and we had a “home base” on the route for booze storage and a bathroom.

After securing the cooler, we found a spot on Canal Street. The photos show the progression of a Mardi Gras parade. Things started to get blurry when I got pelted in the eye with beads (my eye lid is still purple five days later) – and it wasn’t due to the injury.

The first rule – invest in a cooler with wheels.


Secure in our spot. I’m drinking the “c-minus” because of the first instance of alcohol abuse, aka Jack Daniels spillage, caused by another parade goer.


The crowd thickens just before parade time.


The floats are rolling. Let the fight for beads begin.


And we’re acquiring beads…


Then the selfies start to get interesting…


From the bathroom window of our home base – not sure if this was of the parade or the light pole.


Then beads can double as a shirt and you get a neon halo…


Then there’s the walk back to the vehicle… Thankfully, I had a driver.


And after that, things got so blurry I couldn’t document with photos.


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