Krewe du Vieux

It was the warmest Krewe du Vieux in years and years. As we readied ourselves for the procession (KDV being more of a "march" than an actual "parade"), we spoke of previous nights in bitter cold, eyes watering, feet turned to blocks of ice, as we waited for KDV to come by as the cold wind blew. (And of course I remembered nights at my late friend Russ's house, so close to the route, and the laughter and re-living of the satiric "floats" in Russ's warm living room.)

Since KDV is wildly popular -- with some proclaiming it their "favorite parade" though really I cannot see how that could be true -- I planned to avoid trying to find a scarce parking space by riding with my sister L and her husband. But unknown to L, the friends they were riding with had *also* promised rides to other friends. Thus it was on Saturday night that I found myself squeezed into an SUV with *8* other adults, and none of us skinny. Being so close together, we were a little hilarious in our piling in and our piling out, and more than one reference was made to circus clowns exiting a toy car.

A parking place was being held for us in front of the Vieux Carré apartment being leased by L's friends from Chicago (he's a builder who is bidding on the contract for the new Orleans Parish prison, which is kind of ironic since his brother is a well-known defense attorney in town). The apartment -- it's a house, really -- is on St. Phillip, a few blocks from Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, the historic old piano bar on Bourbon. The spot was held by L's friends parking their car in it, and then on spotting our arrival, moving their car to their rented gated parking lot. This being duly accomplished, we were given a tour of the house.

OMG it was gorgeous. The main house had been a traditional camelback double, but it had been opened up as a single, creating a large living-dining area with shuttered French doors all around. One of the original archways, that had been between the double parlors on each side, had been retained as a frame for the stairway to the loft area to the right. To the left was a sunken kitchen with bright blue ceramic tiles on the countertops and backsplash; through the kitchen on the right was a nice size en suite bedroom. Straight through the kitchen, through another French door, was the brick courtyard with comfortable patio furniture, a beer keg, a propane barbecue, and a small outdoor refrigerator.

On the other side of the courtyard was the old slave quarters that had been made into a guesthouse (rented by an employee of L's friends). The first level had an attractive if small living area open to the modern kitchen with a high counter for dining, with French doors facing the courtyard straight across. A rather steep staircase (don't try this while drunk!) led to a bedroom-sitting area, and a queer little bathroom on two levels, with the bathtub/shower being tiled in custom New Orleans-themed tiles (beautiful!). Across the whole floor was a balcony accessed by more French doors.

After oohing and aahing over the courtyard and guesthouse, we went back in to explore the upstairs area of the main house. The original camelback had been expanded by opening up the attic to the sloped roof, to create a good size sitting room with a full bath off it, and then up a few stairs to the large master bedroom area, with a loft-like view into the kitchen below from the stairs.

In case the reader, like me, is curious over what such a lovely living space in the French Quarter costs, I have to say I don't know for sure -- and certainly couldn't ask. But I do know that the couple pointed out a different apartment they had seen on their search, that they hadn't liked as much, and said in passing that the rejected apartment was $3500 per month. So that gives you an idea.

Anyway, it's a perfect spot for marshaling forces for a look at KDV -- not to mention a great place for Mardi Gras refueling!

KDV's ostensible theme this year was "25 Years Wasted" as it is their anniversary year, but of course, none of the subkrewes has the least responsibility to act on the overall theme. Each of the subkrewes goes with its own theme, and as you can imagine, these range widely. (For any of your readers out there who are not familiar with KDV, first, I am SO sorry for you, and second, you can read more at their website: )

Well, it was wild and woolly, with lots of genitalia made out of foam and fake fur, and lots and lots of skewering of local and national leaders. (The very first marching group, Krewe of L.E.W.D., proclaimed a new military policy of "Do Ass, Do Tail" and had a papier maché sculpture of a gay cowboy riding a donkey with the Commander-in-Chief's face.) The BP Oil Spill was attacked with biting sarcasm by several groups (C.R.U.D.E. titled its theme "New Oilins," Meshugge declared that "God Hates Shrimp" and Krewe of Underwear showed "Tales from the Silver Sheen") and a topless Sarah Palin sculpture decorated T.O.K.I.N.'s depiction of the Tea Party conservatives. The New Orleans Sewage & Water Board was slashed for its unconscionable "don't drink the water" announcement this winter, and one group portrayed TSA ("Don't touch my junk!") as serial molesters. (Marchers gleefully groped crowd members as they passed by.) Tremé creator David Simon was mocked for aspects of his generally-beloved HBO series, with marchers wearing costumes based on the sperm-headed KDV outfits portrayed in the show by John Goodman (which had never actually appeared in KDV before). Mondo reported from the year 2525 that the Saenger Theater was finally reopening, and that the Saints had once again won the Superbowl -- and that the Landrieu family was now officially in charge of the Universe.

We had friends in various of the subkrewes, so we were kissed and hugged and showered with KDV goodies as folks went by -- and I was surprised by several parishioners in costume, marching with subkrewes who also hugged and kissed me as they went by (one woman parishioner warning me in advance about the molesting "TSA" agents behind her group).

In a marked improvement over years past, every single group had a band, which really added to the festive scene (and brought more employment to New Orleans musicians, always a good thing -- and no, Big Man did not march this year, as he had already been booked with a gig by the time he was asked. You snooze, you lose. But he was sorry to miss it.)

When KDV was finally done, I made to go back to the St. Phillip house, but my sister L stopped me. "There's another one," she said mysteriously. It seems one of the subkrewes, Delusion, had quit KDV in a huff (who knows why? does it matter?), and was marching a good 6 or more blocks behind. They finally showed up, with young women in white corsets up in front (you can't knock that), and one backup band.

And then it was over for another year, time for us to go back to the house and talk over our favorite bits and drink some more -- and then to pile ourselves back into the SUV for the ride Uptown. A fine time was had by all.