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.

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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.

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The crowd thickens just before parade time.

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

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And we’re acquiring beads…

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Then the selfies start to get interesting…

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

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

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

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

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