Mardi Gras

Obviously, the granddaddy of all New Orleans celebrations is Mardi Gras. Thanks to sensational media accounts that zero in on the salacious aspects of this Carnival, its rep as a Girls Gone Wild-style spring break persists, and these accounts have attracted masses of Real World: New Orleans wannabes looking for decadent X-rated action rather than tradition. If that's your thang, by all means go forth and partay (just remember, Facebook is forever). Truth is, Mardi Gras remains one of the most exciting times to visit New Orleans, for people from all walks. You can spend days admiring and reveling in the city's traditions and never even venture into the frat-party atmosphere of Bourbon Street.

In the post-Katrina days, there was some silly talk of cancelling the Mardi Gras 2006 in deference to the somberness of the times. Pshaw, said just about everyone -- and 6 months to the virtual day after Katrina, most krewes paraded as usual, albeit along slightly altered routes. But the beads and throws were even more plentiful, as were the crowds. Locals returning from exile and visitors (the gruesomely curious and/or those intent on helping rebuild, via tourism dollars spent) made for record attendance. More to the point, the spirit was immeasurably high, as New Orleanians and lovers of the city alike turned out in their most glittery or satirical costumes, exalted in a moment that some feared would never come again. They had survived, and they were filled with hope that their city would, too.

Cut to 2010, when Mardi Gras parades rolled just 9 days after the city's beloved Saints had won the Super Bowl (and 3 days after Mitch Landrieu was elected mayor). Eager to celebrate perhaps the city's most triumphant victory since the Battle of New Orleans, the crowds turned out in record numbers, and many said the enthusiasm exceeded all that had come before. In 2011, a late-season Mardi Gras coincided with spring break, making for yet another monstrous, monstrously fun day.

There is so much more to Carnival than the media-hyped wanton action. Knowledge of some of the long and fascinating history of Mardi Gras may help put matters in perspective. First of all, it's both a day and a time period: French for "Fat Tuesday," it's the day before Ash Wednesday, when Lent begins, and it refers to the 5- to 8-week stretch from Twelfth Night (Jan 6) to Mardi Gras Day (which varies, and falls on Feb 21 in 2012). The idea was that good Christians would eat as much as they could in preparation for their impending denial during Lent.

The party's origins can be traced to the Roman Lupercalia festival: 2 days when all sexual and social order disappeared, cross-dressing was mandatory, and the population ran riot (sound familiar?). The early Christian church was naturally appalled by this but was unable to stop it (as someone later said about Storyville and prostitution, you can make it illegal but you can't make it unpopular). Grafting Lupercalia to the beginning of Lent may have been a compromise to bribe everyone into observing Lent, and they may have needed those 40 days to recover!

Carnival (from a Latin word roughly meaning "farewell to flesh") and its lavish masked balls and other revels became popular in Italy and France, and the tradition followed the Creoles to New Orleans. The first Carnival balls occurred in 1743. By the mid-1800s, Mardi Gras mischief had grown so ugly (the habit of tossing flour on revelers gradually turned into throwing bricks at them) that everyone predicted the end of the tradition. (The more things change, the more they stay the same.)

The Birth of the Krewes -- Everything changed in 1856. Tired of being left out of the Creoles' Mardi Gras, a group of Americans who belonged to a secret society called Cowbellians formed the Mystick Krewe of Comus (named after the hero of a John Milton poem). On Mardi Gras evening, they presented a torchlit parade, seemingly out of nowhere, that was breathtaking in its design, effects, and imagination. A new tradition was born. Every Mardi Gras night thereafter (with some exceptions) climaxed with the appearance of Comus, each time grander and more astounding.

And so the new standard was set. It marked the height of the social season for "krewes," made up of prominent society and business types. After Comus emerged Rex, the King of Carnival. Rex paraded in the morning and later paid public homage to Comus. Their meeting became the high point of Mardi Gras, and for many the über-ritualized, televised moment still is.

The royal colors -- purple for justice, green for faith, and gold for power -- were adopted as the festival's official colors, and more krewes arose, each throwing a lavish ball along with its parade and all with exclusive membership.

After the Civil War put a temporary halt to things, two new enduring customs were added. Members threw trinkets to onlookers, and a "queen" reigned over their ball.

As an elite Old South institution, Mardi Gras eschewed racial equality or harmony. African Americans participated in parades only by carrying torches to illuminate the route (the flambeaux, as the torches are known, are still around, an atmospheric if still controversial tradition). In 1909, a black man named William Storey mocked the elaborately garbed Rex by prancing after his float wearing a lard can for a crown. Storey was promptly dubbed "King Zulu." Thus begat the Krewe of Zulu (officially the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club), which parodied Rex and mocked racial stereotypes. The Zulu parade quickly became one of the most popular aspects of Mardi Gras, famously crowning Louis Armstrong as King Zulu in 1949.

Unfortunately, most krewes still excluded blacks, Jews, and women. Eventually the public, which could not join the krewes but paid taxes for post-parade cleanup, demanded equality. A 1992 ordinance denies a parade permit to any group that discriminates on the basis of race or religion. (Krewes are still not required to integrate along gender lines, a choice of the all-female krewes as much as the male, though men in drag are common.) Rex acceded to the new regulations, but mighty Comus, in a move that many still feel marked the beginning of the end of classic Mardi Gras, canceled its parade. Proteus and Momus followed.

Then as now, the krewes and traditions of Mardi Gras change. Today there are dozens of unofficial krewes and "sub-krewe" spinoffs, and more crop up with some regularity.

Spectacle & Beauty -- Parades were always things of spectacle and beauty with wooden-wheeled, 19th-century caissons for floats. But the processions outgrew the narrow Quarter streets -- and now some have become things of outrageousness, too. New "superkrewes" emerged, like Orpheus (founded by musician and lifelong Mardi Gras enthusiast Harry Connick, Jr.), Bacchus, and Endymion, with nonexclusive memberships and block-long floats. The largest parades can have more than 20 floats, celebrity guests, marching bands, dancing groups, motorcycle squads, celebrity kings, and thousands of participants.

The trinkets known as throws fly thick and fast from the floats. The ubiquitous plastic beads were originally glass, often from Czechoslovakia. Doubloons, the oversize aluminum coins stamped with the year and the krewe's coat of arms, are collector's items for natives. Other throws include stuffed animals, plastic krewe cups, and especially the cherished Zulu coconuts.

Alas, the traditional cry of "Throw me something, Mister!" to obtain a trinket is occasionally reduced to the request/demand, "Show me your tits!" But truth is, a cute kid, an eager grandma, and a genuinely friendly face are equally likely to score copious throws.