THROW ME SOMETHING, MISTER!
For eight of the ten years I lived in New Orleans my home was no more than four blocks off the St. Charles Avenue parade route. It was a lot less claustrophobic than being trapped in the crowds on Bourbon Street and there are no floats in the Quarter. Up where I lived it was all families…DRUNK families, but families never the less, PLUS when I needed to whiz I was close to a private toilet.
After you’ve been to a Mardi Gras Parade anything else is just a bunch of people walking down the street, and that includes the Rose Bowl Parade and Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, too. They don’t throw you stuff! On my last St. Charles Avenue Parade I went to the first evening parade of the season in ’84. Just as I got down to the street the Budweiser Clydesdale’s came by. One of the men on the cart threw a huge handful of doubloons into the air. I remember those magic coins sparkling in the street lights. I reached up and managed to snatch one out of the air. It was the ONLY thing I caught all that Mardi Gras season