In 1993, Angie and I joined with some other folks to have a "neighborhood" float in the Krewe of Janus Mardi Gras Parade. Back then, the entry fee was nominal and just about anybody could put together a rinky-dink float and be a part of the parade.
Angie grew up in Mobile, Alabama. Most people don't know this, but Mobile...not New Orleans...is the birthplace for Mardi Gras here in the United States. Granted, New Orleans made it bigger and became the "official" host over time. But Mobile has Mardi Gras parades that rival any city. Well, Angie grew up with big, lavish parades. And in Mobile, the big prize was to catch a Moon Pie. Do you remember the chocolate and marshmallow treat?
For our maiden voyage, we had plenty of Moon Pies, beads, and other seasonal trinkets. Everything was tucked safely away in a large box located at my feet. (By the way, I don't believe they allow food items to be thrown during Mardi Gras here in Monroe, so I'm pretty sure we were breaking the rules. What gets me, though, is I've never seen anyone get in trouble for throwing candy during the Christmas parade.) At any rate, the parade that year began at the corner of Washington and Louisville, next to Super 1 and Michael's, and we were located about mid-way in the parade procession.
Angie stood by John and I stood by Meredith, who was about six years old and needed constant supervision. Well, the funniest thing happened before we turned the corner at Washington and Louisville. I was talking to somebody on our float, not paying any attention to Mere-Monkey. The float turned onto the route and we all hooped and hollered. I looked down at Meredith and I almost had a heart attack. She had bent down, lifted the large box with all her might, and had it teetering on the edge of the float. Everything that we had available to throw that night was about to go crashing down on Louisville within the first five feet of the parade. I lunged and grabbed the box right at the perfect moment. I pulled everything back into the box and set it down. I'll never forget the look on two young kids who were standing there at the corner. Their eyes were as big as saucers because they were about to receive the mother-lode of souvenirs. Instead, they received nothing.
The rest of the parade in Monroe was uneventful. I'll say this though...it's a different sensation to be a bead thrower instead of a bead catcher. I tried to throw the big stuff to kids. I was amazed at how many drunken idiots would snatch beads away from kids. They would act like nuts shoving kids out of the way...for a dollar's worth of beads. I guess I'll never understand.
By the time we reached the bridge, the crowd had thinned. I remember thinking, "Great, we still have a few things left for downtown West Monroe." What I didn't know was the most raucous crowd was waiting for us there. We turned left after the bridge and I saw a huge group of people filling in Trenton Street. I literally could not see a path for our float to pass through. As we inched closer and closer to the crowd, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. And for good reason...we were entering the most dangerous part of the route. You do the math. The folks there had been partying longer because they were at the end of the parade. At the same time, most of the floats had thrown their best trinkets in Monroe. Not exactly a winning combination.
Several things were thrown at us. I pushed Meredith down and Angie shoved John under the side panels. But there were only a few places we could take refuge on the home-made float. I kept thinking, "Why didn't we buy some chicken wire?" Had the crowd wanted to, they could have overturned our float without much effort. We were clearly outnumbered. But we ran the gauntlet...slowly. It seemed like forever. Drunks screaming at us...throwing souvenirs back at us...scary! I'll never forget how we all went "WHEW!!!" after the parade was over.
That was the only time I've been in a Mardi Gras parade. It'll probably be my last. Y'know, some things can last a lifetime and that experience is still a vivid memory for me. Ironic as it may be, our home-made float was the one that was featured on the front page of the News Star the next day. Believe me, there were tons of nicer looking floats to feature in the news paper, but they chose ours. Perhaps that's the reason the Krewe of Janus doesn't allow neighborhood floats any more.
Here's a copy of the front page the next day. You can't see any of my family in the photo because we were on the other side of the float. Imagine yourself tucked under the side panels as trinkets go whizzing by your head. I can...and I still have nightmares to prove it.
