Happy Fat Tuesday!

Ahh, Fat Tuesday, a holiday with very religious beginnings, being the last big hurrah before lent. It's not really celebrated much the farther you stray from New Orleans, but it's still celebrated there, despite still dealing with the aftermath of Katrina.

I could go a whole lot of places with this. I'm not happy with the attitude of many in New Orleans, who expect someone else to come in and make everything better for them while they sit back and watch. I'm also still not happy with our government's response to that mess, but I'm not happy with its critics either. One Hillary Clinton, in particular, keeps hammering on about Washington's response. Doesn't she realize she's part of Washington? If you are a U.S. Senator, and you aren't part of the solution, you're part of the problem. Whining about the solution doesn't make you part of it. I will grant you that there are shortcomings in this administration's response to that tragedy, if you will grant me that the tragedy is bigger than any natural domestic problem an administration has had to deal with before it. Mistakes were bound to be made, and I hope we learn from them. What ticks me off to some extent is how some people (named Clinton) will expend more energy in pointing out what's wrong than they ever will in trying to remedy the problem. It's like parents pointing out the dog shit in the middle of the soccer field their kids are playing on. That's the easy part. Fixing something takes more initiative. That wouldn't make the man in charge look half as bad, though, and that's far more important than the people of the 9th ward. If Hillary Clinton really wanted to do something that could make me change my attitude about her, she'd shut her mouth and actually do something to make New Orleans a better place to live. Go there and be part of the solution, or organize part of the solution, but get past the partisan bickering. Instead, she galvanizes the attitude that has me and others like me just stare at the screen and say, "Bitch!" In today's (maybe yesterday's) paper, they quoted her as saying Karl Rove is obsessed with what she's doing. Does anyone actually believe Rove is that bored? You'd get more excitement watching grass grow....yeah, in February. Listen to her talk, now, that's another story. New Orleans isn't going to get better until everyone pitches in, and that's everyone...the people living there, the government on all levels, and all of us to the extent that we can....but that's not what I came to talk about. (Damn, I get on that Hillary topic and it's hard to back off.)

I came to talk about Mardi Gras, and the celebration thereof. I have walked Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras...twice. I did it once when I was 23, living in Pensacola (a scant 3 and a half hour drive from New Orleans) and getting through flight school, and had a wonderful time, from the bit I remember. The second time I was living in Pensacola again, stationed there as a flight instructor in the Navy, and I was about 27 or 28. Once again, I had a good time, but I remember far more of that trip, and I remember saying, "Never again."

Mardi Gras is one huge party that gets just slightly out of hand. Oh there are women pulling their tops over their heads for a string of beads, and religious fanatics pulling a cross down the middle of Bourbon Street handing out leaflets to anyone who will take one, but those are just part of the show. I'm talking more about the area's ability to handle what it creates...logistically. When you're 23 and slightly more exuberant, you don't realize that they're selling beer on every street corner, but the only rest rooms are in bars, where there's a line to get in and a two drink minimum. When you're 28 you are more fully aware that the gutter that guy is passed out in smells of urine, and that girl in the bushes is puking her guts up. The reality of it all hits you much harder. When you're 23, you never leave that nirvana that is Bourbon Street. When you're 28 you're more cognizant of the parade schedule, and how far we are from a great restaurant. Yeah, you still hit Bourbon Street (I mean really, there's still something to be said for cheap beer and flashing tits)...only earlier, and you steer clear of the hurricanes in Pat O'Brien's, and you're elsewhere before it gets too gross. When you leave, you leave thinking I want to come back to this town, but not during this circus.

This year, the French Quarter and Fat Tuesday are back, and I think that's good for New Orleans. The city needs a reminder of life before Katrina, and more of everyone's help getting the area surrounding the French Quarter back to that place.