Mrs. King, efficient and dilegent as always, being the better half of this operation, she woke up early to make coffee and muffins. When she woke me up, it was with one simple order: “It is time to assemble the team.”
Assemble we did.
There was me and Mrs. King, ‘natch. There was Mr. Mardi Gras and Mdm. Lavender. There were two people I don’t really know. There were two soccer hooligans, there was another lady, who knows what is what—she is here with a POSSLQ who chose to sleep in. We shall see how long this relationship lasts. Then, last but not least, there was my neighbor and her mother.
It was time to embark on our journey.
We only had to walk three blocks. We assembled at 4:45AM.
This is turning out to be the best Mardi Gras ever this year.
There were about two thousand people in the street once the team got to my neighbor’s house. We dispersed throughout the crowd.
You will never guess who lives across the street. Leather Tuscadero! She had no idea this was going on. I sent her a carrier pigeon last night to let her know I would ring her doorbell when I got there.
I rang Leather Tuscadero’s doorbell when I got to the address on Bayou Road, the oldest street in New Orleans, the Old Portage.
When Leather came out, she found me. “I should have known I would find you perched in a catbird’s seat,” she said. I was standing on a cinderblock so that I could get a better view. I did not bring the cinderblock. I was conveniently located where I wanted to be.
Life is good.
Already, and I am writing this during mid-day, this is turning out to be the best Mardi Gras ever. We were there at the start when the Northside Skull-and-Bones Gang woke up the neighborhood. Today is Mardi Gras!
Wake up!
Live!
The only memories worth keeping are the good ones.
Dwelling in the past is a reason to ignore the present. The future is going to happen a second from now. Today is the most magical day of the year.
This is Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras is in the air like an overdose of pheromones. Love is in the air. Everyone is happy.
I went to Aunt Tiki’s to see Leather after the parade. She was hanging out with a pirate. Even at 9:00AM, the French Quarter is too chaotic for me. I know it is Mardi Gras but I have my limits.
I watched a man puke in a puddle of puke in a Decatur Street gutter. I headed back to Mid-City.
When I was at Aunt Tiki’s knocking boots with Leather, a lady made me an origami out of a two dollar bill. She used her origami skills to fold the bill into a basket filled with good wishes.
“Carry this in your wallet until you die and you will have good luck for the rest of your life,” she said.
It has only been about six hours, but, so far, so good. Today is Mardi Gras Day.
I tucked the elaborately folded two dollar bill into my vest-pocket wallet. “Thank you. Happy Mardi Gras,” I said to the lady with rainbow eyelashes. “Thank you, Mr. King,” she said as we exchanged cheek kisses, French-style.
Wanna know the rest? It is behind the paywall. This is the best Mardi Gras ever this year. Happiness loves company.