Big Easy returns to its ‘near normal’ after today’s excess

Bob’s party lived up to best expectations Sunday — Dimanche Gras — after the Okeanos, Mid City and Thoth parades and before the start of Bacchus.
A half dozen musicians who comprise the Storyville Stompers gathered at the end of the block to await the party’s return from viewing the parades on Magazine Street. As they started trickling back to Bob’s house, the band struck up a Mardi Gras march and led them down the block.
The Stompers remained at the entrance of Bob’s drive, transitioning from one traditional tune into the next while the crowds of people, headed to get a place to watch Bacchus, stopped and joined the impromptu street party. Weather was perfect. Folks were festive. Bob has announced that he will be moving after this Mardi Gras, so it was a fine ending for his Thoth parties that he and his wife Sue have hosted for years.
We had a great view from the front porch though I had to wander around and make photos. Rosemary and a couple of damncats stayed on the porch. One, little Oreo, has lost most of her hearing so the band and the crowd noise did not faze her. The other, New Orleans Ricky, paced the porch nervously looking vexed that so many people had suddenly occupied his roaming space. The remainder of the damncat census laid low, only reappearing after darkness when parade activity and the crowds they had attracted had moved downtown.
On Monday morning we are readying for two afternoon parades — Proteus and Orpheus — one of which originates from a large metal building in the next block where many of the floats are made. For months we have caught glimpses of their creations as we walk past the large doors. Mardi Gras float builders are serious artists whose work I hold in higher regard with each passing year.
On Tuesday — Mardi Gras — the parade activity begins at 8 a.m. with Zulu, followed by Rex at 10 a.m. and then truck parades to end it. None of that starts near here. Activity in our neighborhood will begin with an early morning march through the neighborhood of the Jefferson City Buzzards, a marching club that winds its way through the neighborhood, paying respect with brief stops at neighborhood bars, en route to joining the Rex parade.
On Wednesday, the city will return to as nearly normal as it ever gets. None will be happier with that than the damncats.