Last week Mardi Gras rolled into the Old Folks Hotel. I’ve been all over the world (that’s an exaggeration, I have been to Canada) but I’ve never seen a Mardi Gras parade. I’m certain it’s because the look of the whole thing is like Satan’s Circus, and under Maxine’s supervision, the devil never got any attention in our family. But I sit here in my wheelchair corrected. Apparently, Mardi Gras is considered a CHRISTIAN Holiday, but as usual the humans have muddied up the whole thing.
Phillip, the only Catholic within miles, explained the tradition to our group at the Old Folks lunch table. In between bites of stand-in King Cake, a white cake ruined by purple and gold food coloring, our friend talked about the history of Mardi Gras and how the city of Mobile celebrates almost to the level of New Orleans. He would go to Mobile as a youngster and catch beads. I guess I’m the last one to learn that Mardi Gras is translated as Fat Tuesday from the tradition of eating all the rich foods the day before the beginning of Lent. I’m a small-town Baptist, although I grew up Presbyterian, and I don’t remember Fat Tuesday. The idea is to mark the beginning of fasting and serious spiritual contemplation by THROWING A CRAZY PARADE AND PARTY? I guarantee you no Baptist or Presbyterian came up with that idea.
You’re not going to believe this, but starting the morning of Fat Tuesday, the staff at the Old Folks Hotel announced there would be a Mardi Gras Parade at our facility! That afternoon, all of the long-term care residents wheeled against the walls of the main hallway and waited for the event to begin. My daughter was with me, and once again let me urge everyone to have four daughters so that when you get old someone feels the need to take care of you, and we started prepping for the parade. She told me to catch as many bead necklaces as possible, that the more necklaces the more luck for the new year. I thought to myself, no Baptist or Presbyterian came up with that idea either. She also mentioned that she and Sorry Son-in-law #4 lived in New Orleans for a year, and when they went to the parade on Bourbon St., the ladies would lift their shirts to get more necklaces. Nope, no Baptist or Presbyterian came up with that idea either, maybe they would think it, but they certainly wouldn’t tell anyone.
The music started, and Shirley and Rashanda and Cheyenne started boogeying down the hallway handing out beads. They were decked out in wild masks and skirts, and when I looked around everyone was smiling and having a great time. Although I didn’t lift up my shirt, I managed to get seven beaded necklaces, Perry got six, and sweet Edna got nine! I guess she will have more luck than us, but since Edna is much nicer than Perry and me, she deserves it. Speaking of luck, my Catholic friend explained that there is a plastic baby inside the King Cake, and whoever gets it in their slice of cake, has extra luck for the coming year. What?? Maybe the Catholics got a little off track with this Lent thing, but have you seen what the rest of us Christians have done to Easter? If not, just walk into your local WalMart.
Whatever the case, we sure did have fun. My daughter hung the Mardi Gras necklaces on the wall of my room, and I’m a new fan of the tradition. Of course I don’t actually believe in the luck part. I’m too old to prove this now, but back in the day, I always found that the harder I worked, the luckier I got.