Another Fat Tuesday is upon us, and in the American tradition of gluttonous excess, what was once a holiday marked by pre-Lenten feasts and the odd parade or two has swelled into the phantasmagoric orgy of booze, breasts, and beads we've all come to know and love from those numerous C.O.P.S. specials.
I've been to New Orleans a number of times, but never for Mardi Gras. Even in my callow youth I was wary enough of the hassle to steer clear, and now I'm too old. I'm comfortable with that, for Mardi Gras is a holiday for drunken youth and drunken still-wish-they-were-youth. How else do you explain the savagery with which crowds descend upon The City that Sobriety Forgot every March? Yeah, yeah, yeah, New Orleans is steeped in French-Americal colonial history, which would be a pertinent argument if more than 1% of visitors ever made it past the Daquiri Factory. I also hate crowds, so Mardi Gras would drive me nuts. I'd end up paying less attention to the boobs being flashed around me than I would the next throat I had to elbow in order to get the hell off Bourbon Street.
Even before I was old enough to sample the city's earthier pleasures, New Orleans freaked me out. I remarked once - to my friend Sven as we were driving through on a return trip from Atlanta - that there was an almost palpable miasma of evil that clung to the city. It tweaked at a visitor's nerves, making one skittish and edgy. Perhaps, I mused, this was the reason people felt compelled to drink so much. Sven just grunted something unintelligible, then rolled back over to continue sleeping off his hangover. The same hangover that necessitated my driving solo from Atlanta to Beaumont.
What was my point? Oh, right...miasma. I couldn't decide, when I visited the Big Sleazy later in life, if there really was some cloud of malevolence hovering over the Mississippi River delta or if it was merely four decades' worth of accumulated vomit and urine. New Orleans is the only city I've ever visited that made me feel like washing my shoes afterwards. And I've been to Paris. And Amsterdam.
In the interest of fairness, I should point out that the Wife loves New Orleans. She's been to three Mardi Gras celebrations and, by all accounts, had a blast each time.
I prefer Vegas. Keep your phony forced jubilation and give me hard drinking gamblers who'd just as soon blow White Owl smoke in your face as learn your name. Mardi Gras is "the greatest night of the year?" With those tinted windows, it's always night in Treasure Island. Spare me swimming against a tide of Coors Light-addled frat boys for a 48 oz. pina colada and just keep the whiskey straights coming while I play Texas Hold 'Em. Here's a $5 chip for all your hard work.
And Vegas celebrates the institution of marriage, which is apparently very important to our President.
Bourbon Street aside, New Orleans has some charm. Namely, mind-blowing restaurants, quality sporting events, and the aforementioned cultural attractions. The swamp tours are pretty cool, too. However, I've slogged through the orgy of human filth on Burbon Street twice in my life. The first time was an experience. The second time took a few years off my life.
Pete, you can have Vegas. I'm much worse at gambling than I think I am. (Especially after a few beers). Give me good ol' San Francisco.
I've never been to New Orleans, but I know what you mean about the palpable miasma of evil - I get that same feeling every time I go to College Station. The same question about decades of vomit and urine probably applies, though.
One of the best meals I've ever had was in the French Quarter of New Orleans; that night, I saw a close buddy lose thirty bucks to a hustler on a "game of chance".
So, there are certain mixed reactions to the place.
I've never been to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but several years ago I had the misfortune to be there for New Year's Eve.
I hated it. Crowds of drunk people and streets full of filth are not my idea of fun (even when I was 20-something). I've been to Venice in mid-summer and it didn't stink as badly as New Orleans on December 31 / January 1.
I've been back a couple of times since and there is something to be said for seeing the Garden District and other historic areas when they aren't teeming with obnoxious people and there are plenty of excellent restaurants, but New Orleans will always be pretty low on my "destination" list.
I've never been to New Orleans, but I know what you mean about the palpable miasma of evil - I get that same feeling every time I go to College Station. The same question about decades of vomit and urine probably applies, though.
I'm trying to remember which past life it was in which I drowned your kitten. First you remark how my blog doesn't measure up to my commenters, now you're slagging my hometown. And only I'm allowed to do that.
Anyway, I'm not sure where you could accumulate New Orleans levels of urine in CS, unless it was the alley next to the Dixie Chicken.
I've been to New Orleans many times. I always try to stay at least two days: one to see the sights and one to drink my way into a gutter.
Seriously, though, I watched the sun rise on my 30th birthday over coffee and beignets at the Cafe du Monde, and can't imagine a better way to celebrate. You'll never find better jazz than the show at Preservation Hall. The zoo is one of the world's best. The Garden Quarter is pretty special. Hell, even Bourbon Street has its own kind of charm. What can I say? I love the place. I guess once that miasma of evil soaks into your bones, it never lets go.
Now, having said that, I went there for Mardi Gras exactly once and never will again. Not even on a bet. I'm glad for the experience, but wouldn't care to repeat it.
Sickeningly liberal but gut-bustingly-funny artiste' Pete has a Poker Jones, and he takes it out on Mardi Gras (a damn......
| --Posted to The Fat Guy on Feb 24, 2004 6:28 PM:. |
As a suckled on gumbo Cajun, I have to agree with your appraisal of New Orleans. There's a lot of good things going for it, mostly the food, the food and oh yes, the food. Going to The Big Sleazy during "party times" (New Years Eve, Mardi Gras, & Halloween) is a big mistake. During off hours, it's okay.
Vegas was a lot more fun. We got to stand on the bridge of the Enterprise, look at classic works of art, watched pirates and got a lot of handouts for strip clubs we never went to. The only bad thing about Vegas is the haze of cigarette smoke that no ammount of air scrubbers can clear. Sure, both Heather and I stunk at gambling, but we made sure that the hotels made up for it by sucking up free booze.
Did I say "College Station"? I meant "Berlin." It's this damned Dvorak keyboard - I never know what's coming out of it next.
I live in Louisiana and go to New Orleans all the time. Yes, the smell is not the best thing but I absolutely love the enviroment. If you can't hang with people that always want to have fun and party then you should not be there. Please, don't even try because you will hate it! I think that the only reason you don't like Mardi Gras is because there is so many people. That is how Mardi Gras is every year. If you do want to go to Mardi Gras and not be crowded then go to another parade that is not located in the French Quarter. We have parades all over the area and you can find them on a web site and see what famous person is going to be there. New Orleans is not a bad place. If you are wanting to have a lot of fun and party then come during the night time; however, if you want to enjoy the history only come during the day.
I have never been to Vegas. This galls me because I consider myself a reasonably good amateur gambler. I am in the process of working myself around to the notion that I'd like to go to Vegas and play in a $5-$10 Hold 'em game.
I hear if you get a Royal Flush, they let you help iron Wayne Newton's forehead.