I love a good carnival, but all of the fairs and festivals in my life have been compared to the Wisconsin State Fair, the fair of my childhood. My dad is from Milwaukee and every year when I was a kid he would take my brother and I home to see our grandparents and every year he would make sure we went when the State Fair was in full swing. I was very happy to find that over 30 years later it was pretty much still how I remembered it. I used to say “one of these days I’ll make it back to the Wisconsin State Fair”, and finally “one of those days” was realized. I had a great time and hope you enjoy these just-for-fun photos of the Wisconsin State Fair.
I didn’t really intend to be in New Orleans for Mardi Gras this year, but after getting a late start from Washington in January and spending more time in Mississippi than I had planned, the stars aligned and I found myself pulling into New Orleans on the Saturday of Mardi Gras weekend. Normally when I’m here for Mardi Gras, I come to town at least week early to catch some of my favorite parades, see some friends, eat some of that great New Orleans food and enjoy myself. By the time Fat Tuesday rolls around, I’m already pretty tired from all of the lead-up. This year, I was still pretty fresh for the big day, and I wanted to experience some of the traditions I had either never seen before, or not experienced in the way I wanted to. I kept a loose plan in my head and allowed myself to go with the flow, warning my friends that I might break off at any moment and go a different direction. This all allowed me to have an amazing Mardi Gras, see some different sides to the experience, and gain a better understanding of the traditions of the day. I thought I’d share my my Mardi Gras with y’all in this post.
There are a LOT of photos in this post. Mardi Gras parades in Louisiana are some of the most vivid, colorful, vibrant, sensory overloading events in the whole world. The colors, the costumes, the floats, the music and the excitement are all overwhelming. They are joyful and happy events marking the biggest celebration of the year in the state. Photographing them is a true joy, and all of these photos make me extremely happy. In these photos I want to show you the floats, the riders, the spectators, the bands and walking groups that make up the Mardi Gras parades. There are also a few of my favorite kind of Mardi Gras shot - trying to capture beads in mid-air between thrower and catcher. There are six parades featured in this post. The first is the Krewe of Slidellians from Slidell, Louisiana. The following night parade is from the Krewe of Rio in Lafayette. The next daytime parades were the Krewe of Carrolton followed by the Krewe of King Arthur on the same day taken from Lee Circle in New Orleans. There are two photos from the Krewe of Nyx nighttime parade in New Orleans, and finally are a few from the huge Spanish Town parade in Baton Rouge, the pinkest event I’ve ever witnessed. I know there are probably too many photos for one post here, but it was hard to cut it down to just the ones I included. I hope you enjoy them and I hope you can feel the excitement and happiness I tried to capture here. More than anything, I hope they make you smile.
It was wonderful to be back in Louisiana for the end of the Mardi Gras season this year. I got out to see parades in several different towns, and then made my way back to New Orleans for Fat Tuesday itself. It’s a wonderful time of year to be in Louisiana, and for those who have never been, it is so much more than the booze fueled tourist mess you’ve seen on COPS and Girls Gone Wild. It’s full of food and fun and family, parades throwing beads and stuffed animals to kids sitting atop ladders, good vibes and a chance to let your hair down and relax. I needed to let my hair down and relax a bit this time around, and Mardi Gras has been just the cure to the February blues I needed.
I started my Mardi Gras this year with a quiet walk through the French Quarter just after 8 a.m. I was surprised at how few people were out and how quiet it was. The street cleaners were just finishing up on Bourbon Street which gleamed in the morning sun. Jackson Square was empty and there were plenty of open seats at Cafe du Monde. I always love walking around the French Quarter early in the morning, but it was amazing to see it cleaned up and waiting for the revelers to come out and play…
It has been a whole week of Mardi Gras celebrations here in Louisiana, culminating in the big day itself, Fat Tuesday, on Tuesday, March 5th. It’s been an amazing week full of fun, friends, food, music, parades and all that jazz. It’s also the kind of week that you’re sad to see end, but know your body sees differently. It was great to be back in Louisiana for Mardi Gras this year as the last time I was here for Mardi Gras was 2015.
After I wrote last week, I did not, in fact get out of New Orleans. It is way too easy for me to get stuck here, and that is exactly what happened. But in a good way, for sure. Wednesday night after I finished up last week’s post, I went out to see the Nyx parade which was a lot of fun. One of my friends was riding in it, so she dropped me a hand decorated purse, the prized throw from that parade.
Thursday I recorded my podcast, which will be done and published by this time next week. After that, I relaxed for the rest of the morning and early afternoon. It was nice to just relax at my friend Luke’s house and watch TV and take a nap. I don’t get a lot of days like that out here on the road, and I knew a big weekend was coming, so I took advantage of it. I did make it out to the Muses parade in the evening though, which is always a lot of fun.
The history of the Mardi Gras Indians is shrouded in mystery. They have been parading through the streets of New Orleans for well over a hundred years in elaborate, hand-made costumes which take the entire year to create. It’s believed that the Mardi Gras Indian Tribes came to be because most African American New Oreanians didn’t feel they had a place in traditional New Orleans’ Mardi Gras parades. Each Tribe represents a specific neighborhood, and spends thousands of hours creating their costumes which will generally only be worn on Mardi Gras Day and St. Joseph’s Day. The Tribe will emerge early on Mardi Gras morning and take to the streets, marching to meet other Tribes and engage in ritualistic battles and compare costumes. Since the Big Chief of the Tribe determines the route their march will take, they aren’t known or advertised so you have to be lucky to come across them. I felt very lucky to see this Tribe, representing the 9th Ward, on Mardi Gras Day and follow them up St. Bernard St. for a ways. Their costumes put all other Mardi Gras costumes to shame, and their history and tradition is some of the most mysterious and fascinating in all of New Orleans’ folklore. The best time to see the Mardi Gras Indians, though, is during their St. Joseph’s Day Parade. On that day, many of the Tribes descend on A.L. Davis Park to march through the streets one last time in their regalia before they start designing next year’s costumes. I hope you enjoy these photos of the Mardi Gras Indians.
Ah, State Fair! The mere mention of State Fair brings back so many fond memories from my childhood. Roasted corn on the cob, flying down the Giant Slide on a sack, cream puffs and little piglets were always the highlights for me. It was wonderful to be able to visit the Ohio State Fair in Columbus and relive some of those memories. It was great to see there are still hawkers selling shammies and cookware, and the guy who will guess your weight, age or birth month. I also loved visiting the crafts area and seeing the award winning dollhouses and quilts and muffins. State Fair was also my only real connection with agricultural life when I was a kid, and it was great to see farmers still sitting by their prized cattle and sheep. I also enjoyed the "butter cow", apparently a beloved local tradition. This year's was a recreation of one of my favorite holiday movies: A Christmas Story. Fairs are also fun to photograph as the colors are vivid and the patrons come in all shapes and sizes. I hope you enjoy these shots from the Ohio State Fair.
Last week I went to my first Bonnaroo, a fact I repeated probably close to a hundred times over the course of the week I was there. It was, in fact, my first full weekend, camped out music festival period. I've been to Jazz Fest in New Orleans and the Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale and plenty of smaller music festivals around the country, but they were all day-trips. This was different. I'll admit I was a little nervous about it as I knew I would be twice as old as most of the people in attendance, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. Better late than never, right? And actually it's those nerves that made it that much more exciting to be there. It turned out to be a really amazing experience and I'm really glad I went. As the weekend wore on though, the question changed from how many times I'd been to Bonnaroo to if I'm coming back next year. When my answer was "probably not", I got a lot of hurt and quizzical looks. Hadn't I had fun? I really did, I answered, but there are so many other things to do and places to explore. This may very well not be my last Bonnaroo. I'd love to go back to The Farm and do it again, but only if it fits into my schedule. You see, while Bonnaroo was a great experience, I've had lots of comparable experiences in my life and through them all, going back again was probably never as good as the first time. While I understand that for a lot of people it's hard to put yourself out there in front of a new bus over and over again, I'm here to argue that it's worth it. Even if you get run over now and again, it'll still be worth it You can only ever do anything for the first time once, and I plan to live out as many firsts as this world allows.
It was certainly an interesting week out at Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival in Manchester, Tennessee. Since I was there all week, I don't have much else to write about today. It was both wonderful and strange to park my van for a week and just leave it there, but it didn't move an inch from when I arrived last Tuesday until I left "The Farm" the following Monday. When I did leave, it was hot and I was pretty tired and had already seen what I had come to see in Tennessee, so I pretty much made a beeline towards home. And that is where I am writing this from today - home sweet home, Washington D.C. Two things happened out in the world while I was tucked away in Manchester though, both of which brought out some pretty strong emotions. First, my Washington Capitals won the Stanley Cup for the first time, which was long overdue and very well deserved, so congratulations to them. Sadly that same night we lost one of our own as Anthony Bourdain took his own life in France. I had met Tony once, and he seemed to be the same in person as he was on TV. His books and his shows had a deep impact, not just on me but on many. He changed the whole travel show genre by focusing on real people and real places - places I've been and places I'd like to go. Before Tony travel shows all seemed to be about 5 star resorts and palm trees and umbrella drinks - places I couldn't afford and didn't really want to go anyway. His shows were raw and gritty and real and game changing. They showed the world as it really is: challenging, sometimes ugly but full of good people, delicious and always beautiful. Thank you Tony for all your inspiration through the years, and I hope you're resting easy somewhere tonight. Those being said, this is how I spent this week on (or more accurately off) the road…
I met Charles Hoffmaster at Monkey Town Brewery in Dayton, Tennessee. In retrospect, I guess a place with a name like that is as good a place as any to meet a clown. But Charles didn't strike me as a clown at first, just an affable guy with a big smile and a cool hat. He had been talking to some guys down the bar while I was working on writing my next podcast, and while their laughter made me smile, I was paying more attention to my work than to the people around me. His friends got up and left about the time that I was finished writing for the evening, and he came over and introduced himself. It was then that he told me he was a professional clown who worked for Hawthorne's Circus Bizarre Sideshow at the carnival that just pulled into town. The carnival was part of the annual Tennessee Strawberry Festival to be held in Dayton the following weekend. He said they had just arrived and set up their tent so he thought he'd go for a wander and see what was happening. As a traveler myself, his story certainly caught my attention...
