Finding some life lessons at Mardi Gras
Queensbury councilman Dixon also fails to understand `conflict of interest'
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The cover story, the reason I was going to New Orleans was Mardi Gras.
It was not an event I ever gave much thought; never a priority, never one of those things that eluded me over the years. I wasn't even sure what it was.
My son, who moved to New Orleans two years ago, insisted I had to experience it. So in December I drove with my brother and dog Sophie over six days to New Orleans to celebrate Christmas and New Year's to rally a family that was suddenly adrift.
Afterward, I would stay for Mardi Gras and spend time with son.
That's what I told people.
But I knew what I was doing. I was running away.
The big empty house over a long winter was just going to be too much. I knew that and when Joseph threw me a lifeline I grabbed it with both hands.
And over the past week I have experienced parades, costumes, learned you spell "Krewe" with a "K" and have met a continual stream of friendly, outgoing people willing to guide me through the customs that make up Mardi Gras.
So hear I sit on the precipice of Mardi Gras - a Christian celebration marking the start of Lent in preparation for Easter fasting - as a grizzled veteran of a half-dozen parades in uptown, West Bank and Merigny and I'm still trying to define it.
Describing it is easy.
There are dazzlingly lights, costumes, masks, feathers, provocative attire, floats a city-block long, a stream of intoxicated celebrants and beads raining down from the heavens.
It is relentless - the beads and the celebration.
Every day this past week.
Every hour this past weekend.
Yet, it never overwhelms, at least not so far.
Mardi Gras for me has been about fellowship, about a city becoming a town, a town becoming a village and a village becoming a family.
Each person looking out for the other.
That seems kind of rare these days.
If you get a bag of beads, you share them with those around you. Why don't we do that all year long?
On Saturday, I crossed the Mississippi River by ferry for a parade in Algiers.
It is quieter here, a neighborhood of non-descript homes, probably more poor than middle class. Finding the parade route, I found smoking grills, crawfish boiling and people staking a claim with their canvas chairs by the parade route. There were kids everywhere.
It felt like the Fourth of July an Memorial Day crammed into Labor Day.
As the parade rolled through I found the Marine Corps Marching Band playing the traditional Marine Corps anthem and then quite uncharacteristically, breaking formation and a Marine saxophone player in full dress strutted to the front as they magically turning from marching band to jazz ensemble.
And then the dancing started.
One woman got up close to the uniformed sax player, then another, and we were all dancing. We were all sharing the moment. You don't get many opportunities to see Marines boogey.
This was moment maybe that might finally define Mardi Gras because it is not about the drinking, costumes and floats.
The Marines turned around and played to the other side of the street and then went down the other side of the street again. The rest of the parade was leaving them behind, and no one seemed to care.
One of my guides on this journey was Hollis Anne Simonson, who grew up in New Orleans and went to school in the Garden District.
She explained that each parade, each neighborhood brought a different vibe and a different experience. But even a native like Hollis seemed to struggle to define it.
Suburban Metarie was different than the parades before the stately homes in Uptown and tourist-centric parade in the French Quarter.
I would have to just experience it for myself I was told over and over again.
A couple nights earlier, I was on a balcony over looking the parade on St. Charles Street as the Krewe of Muses rolled by.
A couple nights after that, I was down on the street overwhelmed by a sea of humanity 10, 15, 20 people deep in spots. But nobody complaining, because this is NOLA at Mardi Gras and everyone seems to be in a good mood, well, that's how my son explained it.
Tonight I will put on tuxedo for the Orpheus Ball and see another side of New Orleans at a black tie event with everyone in their ultimate finery.
A day earlier inside the cavern-like space of the convention center, I asked the lonely security guard where the parade comes though.
"You know," he said with a big smile. "I've been here three years and I've never figured how they get them in, or how they get them out."
I told him I would get back to him.
After renting my tux, I realized this will be the first time in black tie since my sister-in-law's wedding 30 years ago, reminding me she's gone now, too.
It's not unusual to see formal wear in my neighborhood this time of year, not because it is well-to-do, but because they still have formal events in this city this time of year.
It's a throwback to another time, more formal, more polished. Few describe New Orleans as polished.
A week or so ago, I saw an older man waiting for his wife on the corner wearing a tux - what else would an older man be waiting for? - and I stopped and said, "Sir, you look good."
He smiled and thanked me, but he didn't need me to tell him, he knew it. We all should look that good once a year.
Walking Sophie Sunday afternoon I stumbled on a rock concert of sorts which had taken over all of Andrews Higgins Drive at the behest of the Krewe of Bacchus. The parade was still a few hours away, and yes, there was more dancing.
Over in the Garden District, I stumbled what I at first thought was an invention - a step ladder from which toddlers could better witness their future - but as I found out later, the step ladders are everywhere. I suspect they don't give couples cribs at baby showers, but step ladders.
Family is at the heart of Mardi Gras, too.
And decorating your house the way we decorate for Christmas.
It is a wonderful reminder of who we can be as a people during one of the worst times in our country's history.
The Times-Picayune reported Sunday that Louisiana is going to be hit hard by the Trump's budget cuts and environmental projects would be curtailed, putting the very existence of this city - and maybe Mardi Gras - someday at risk.
There's still two more days of Mardi Gras.
My place is adorned with beads everywhere.
There are parades all day tomorrow and early on what they call Fat Tuesday.
I will don my rented tux tonight and hope some gentleman tells me I look pretty good, too.
But it's already starting to dawn on me that maybe I wasn’t looking for the meaning of Mardi Gras after all, that maybe I wasn't running away at all, but running toward something, and maybe, just maybe, I found it.
Consolidating the arts
There has been a quiet consolidation on the arts scene in the Capital District since the pandemic with Proctors Theater acting as an umbrella organization for other smaller groups like Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany and Adirondack Theater Festival here in Glens Falls.
This past week, it was announced that Miriam Weisfeld, the producing artistic director for ATF, will take on additional responsibilities at Capital Repertory.
I've been working with Miriam for more than a year developing my play The Last American Newspaper and if anyone can handle these responsibilities it is Miriam.
The collaboration should also be beneficial at both ends of the Capital District market.
Weisfeld succeeds Maggie Mancinelli-Cahill, who led Capital Repertory since 1995. Weisfeld will continue to serve as consulting artistic producer for the remainder of the 2024-2025 Season and she and Cahill will collaborate through the end of 2025 to ensure a smooth transition of operations for the a theatre company nearing its 50th anniversary.
Weisfeld will continue her leadership responsibilities at ATF.
Queensbury ethics
It is clear two members of the Queensbury Town Board - Tim McNulty and Michael Dixon - have no intention of addressing the conflict of interest that the Queensbury Ethics Board has found.
Both hold leadership positions in political parties that gives them opportunity to influence the votes on the Town Board.
Many residents have already weighed in with the Town Board, but for change to occur, focus on the issue needs to continue.
Write or call members of the Town Board today:
Queensbury Town Board - Contact information
- John Strough, Town Supervisor - johns@queensbury.net
518-761-8229
- Anthony Metivier, Ward 1 councilman - anthonym@queensbury.net
518-932-1109
- Scott Gushlaw, Ward 2 councilman - scottg@queensbury.net
518-331-4836
- Michael Dixon, Ward 3 councilman -dixonm@queensbury.net
518-812-7562
Tim McNulty, Ward 4 councilman
518-480-7236 - timothym@queensbury.net
Women's Day march
The Glens Falls Queen Team is sponsoring an International Women's Day March in Glens Falls on March 8 from 9 a.m. to 11 a.m. beginning at Crandall Library.
Funny bone
I was looking for a nutritionist here in New Orleans and I came upon a list that struck me as a little bit funny.
The listing started this way:
"We are here when you need us. Feel free to call during business hours and/or
via email and we will return your message within 24 hours."
Then it was listed: "Monday: closed."
Thanks for support
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Big city life
While I continue to feel totally safe in my neighborhood in New Orleans - the Warehouse District - there are some who have had bad experiences.
Walking down the street recently, I found these signs taped to the window over modest compact car.
Best joke of night
Anora, which won a Best Picture Oscar Sunday night, is a movie about the son of a Russian oligarch marrying a New York City sex worker.
In the best joke of the night, host Conan O'Brien said, "You know Anora is having a good night. That’s great news. Two wins already. I guess Americans are excited to see somebody finally stand up to a powerful Russian.”
Ken Tingley spent more than four decades working in small community newspapers in upstate New York. Since retirement in 2020 he has written three books and is currently adapting his second book "The Last American Newspaper" into a play. He currently lives in Queensbury, N.Y.
My son was in New Orleans during the 90's and early 2000's. Each time we visited, he said, "Mom, you've got to visit during Mardi Gras." I had no interest, but, he was my son, who, to this day as a 50 year old, I cherish. There is nothing I can add to your description. A full week of parades and people celebrating life. As I read along, I wondered if you had captured the step ladders. When they appeared, I got weepy. After these past three days, it was just what I needed. Life goes on and community matters.
Thanks for the trip thru Mardi Gras. Enjoyed the pics, especially of the two kids.
The nutritionist’s add reminded me of a sign I saw many moons ago, forget when and where: “Emergencies by Appointment Only.”