And the conversation goes:
“How was your Mardi Gras?”
“Oh, once the weather cooperated, we had so much fun. And yours?”
“Wonderful! We had the best time this year.”
There is a slight pause and then, in unison:
“I’m so glad it’s over, though.”
If I have heard this conversation once today, I’ve heard it at least 10 times. However, I began realizing that most people do have a love/hate relationship with Mardi Gras. It’s exciting to plan and prepare for it. It’s euphoric when you’re in the sea of revelers snatching beads from the grubby hands of greedy children that are being thrown from the sparkling floats (the beads are being thrown from the floats, not the children … but now there’s a thought). Then it’s over and you realize how much of a toll it has taken on your everyday life for the last week or how much time you’ve ridiculously devoted to finding just the right tu-tu (or purple tinsel wig in my case). I find some similarity to this phenomena with cocaine. You anticipate the acquisition and preparation. You are in rapture while taking it all in. Then it’s gone, everything comes to a screeching halt, and you’re left with nothing but plastic (straw in the cocaine scenario or beads in the Mardi Gras scenario), one hell of a hangover and maybe a few regrets. Thankfully, my experiences of the last few years in both realms have been quite different and more benign. (Note: I am not advocating the use of cocaine. It’s goodly bad for you.)
It’s just interesting to me listening to people’s great plans — what parties they’re attending, what parades they’re catching, what their costume(s) looks like, whom they’re meeting and where — only to hear on Ash Wednesday how happy they are that it’s over. Not judging. I must admit as well that I am ready to get back to the normal life. We live very close to the float staging area and endured the incessant wailing of police sirens escorting these floats to the starting points of the parades. You get to a point where you don’t hear them any longer … and that’s good. What’s bad is when you realize that you’re subconsciously not hearing them any longer, and then you begin to consciously hear every single one of them again, only louder now. One thing I will miss is the heightened sense of revelry and bacchanalia that accompanies Mardi Gras. It seems people are more agreeable and easy-going. It is probably all the alcohol, but I’m choosing to believe that it’s the spirit of the city coming together to celebrate the Carnival season.
This was not meant to be a long, involved post but merely an observation. I’m finding Resistance is winning the battle of creativity at present.