AMY SZPARA

Carnival is best when you stay in home town

The ash-colored sky and storm-weather winds didn’t keep LaPlace from filling the streets Sunday afternoon for its annual Mardi Gras parade. Lawn chairs, tailgates and cemented sidewalks served as front-row seats to the show, and while adults ate barbecue and talked with neighbors before Krewe du Monde rolled, kids threw frisbees and rode their faddish scooters through the streets. It’s a scene that comes once a year in this town. On the Sunday before Fat Tuesday at 1 p.m., people come out in droves. They munch on snacks from home, maybe sip on a daiquiri or two and scream for their friends on the floats to throw them some good beads, the big, pearly white ones. This year everyone had their umbrellas, ponchos or windbreakers ready in anticipation of a storm. The sky looked like it would open up and drench the festive crowd at any moment, but it didn’t. The krewe rolled, everyone remained dry and the shouts and raised arms made it evident that it was carnival time once again. Though there aren’t as many floats or bands, a lot of local people prefer their little parade to the bigger ones in the city. Endymion and Bacchus are nice, featuring well-known celebrities and fancy floats. But the crowds are tremendous and the traffic is a nightmare. Plus the floats are always breaking down, holding up the parade for 15-20 minutes each time. At home, there is no crowding. No tall people are standing up front blocking the view, and there’s no circle of drunks engulfing a person, spilling beer in her hair, flashing chests in her face or snatching up all the good beads. A parade-goer gets her own space, her own little spot to enjoy the flow of decoration and stream of plastic gifts. Everyone is bound to know a few people in the local parade, and that is a sure way to get bombarded with pretty, little trinkets, the trophies that people in the area cherish for a day, then store in the back of the closet for the rest of the year. Afterwards, a person can hop in her car and cruise on back home. There’s no traffic to worry about. The parade begins at 1 p.m., and a parade-goer at the start of the route can be back home in the recliner watching the tube by 1:45. Still, it’s nice to get a bit of both types of parades. The big New Orleans ones are a thrill, inspiring the wild to come out of a person. But the home-town ones are relaxing, cleaner and perfect for families. Walking through the streets, the spectator can see the jubilant looks on the faces of little kids with their face paint in place and bags in hands ready for the prizes they are sure to catch. At Sunday’s parade, a few kids were so sure that they would hit the jackpot, that they brought their mothers’ laundry baskets to hold the loot they were hoping to get. The small-town parade is more family oriented, and that is what a lot of locals like about it. Sunday’s parade was certainly that, since the throws were aimed mostly at the children. Stuffed animals, toy arrows and plastic footballs and frisbees were tossed to the kids. And that’s what makes it so nice. People in town get to have some good, clean fun, and the children go home with bags full of goodies. It’s better than Halloween for them, and they have a good memory that lasts all year. AMY SZPARA is a reporter for L’Observateur.