By Matthew Halverson
Talk about crashing a party. Like a couple of fight-happy frat boys after one too many cups of cheap beer, nonprofit event organizer Mardi Gras Inc. and a small group of Soulard residents who want to move the Fat Tuesday festivities out of the neighborhood started jawing last March and haven’t let up since. As Soulardians gear up for another beer-bead-and-boob bacchanal, we decided to let the two sides air out their differences. “It’s like in government,” says 7th Ward Ald. Phyllis Young. “You’ve got radicals on each side, and there’s a compromise in the middle.” Or a full-on brawl. Shots all around!
You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.
Party? Naw… Move Mardi Gras downtown, the theory goes, and everyone wins—especially those worried about Soulard’s rep as Booze Central. “It’s branding Soulard as a party destination, and it’s destroying the neighborhood,” says resident Gail van Dyke.
Mardi Gras! If that happens, supporters worry that they’ll lose the party’s tangible payoffs—like new wrought-iron fences around Soulard’s two parks, paid for with money from Mardi Gras-related fundraisers. “Where’s that money going to go if they move the event downtown?” asks Soulard Restoration Group president Dana Brackeen.
There’s a Porta-Potty right over there!
Party? Naw… It’s not that the party protesters don’t like a good party. They just don’t like people peeing in their front yards. “You really can’t imagine the assault that happens on our property,” says resident Kate Berger. “This year we’re going to hire a private security guard.”
Mardi Gras! Come on, it’s not a party unless the cops have to show up. “This is a typical St. Louis way of dealing with something,” says Mardi Gras Inc. spokesperson Mack Bradley. “‘Hey, we have a great party, but somebody trampled on my flowers, so let’s stop the whole thing.’”
Where did all the nice drunks go?
Party? Naw… What happened to the days of good, clean, independent overindulgence, ask concerned residents? “It’s stopped being a neighborhood event,” says Berger, who lives in the Red Zone. “Now it’s just fat, bloated, corporate, neutered and disgusting.”
Mardi Gras! It’s still Soulard-centric, resident Bill Shelton protests. Sure, the incidence of public urination has increased, but that’s just part of the evolution of things. “Times change,” he says. “Twenty years ago, I was wearing parachute pants.”
Permission to complain freely…
Party? Naw… Disgruntled Soulard resident Eric Young is tired of being marginalized, dammit. (He’s one of the 20 or so who want Mardi Gras moved.) He did get an offer to sit on the parking committee, though. “I told them I wanted to chair the Let’s Make Mardi Gras a Lot Smaller Committee,” he says. “They said it doesn’t exist.”
Mardi Gras! Bradley thinks there might be a little bit of grandstanding involved here. “If they want to be on the board, they should get more involved instead of ‘Let’s write a bunch of letters to the city and stop this whole thing.’”
Policing the party:
Party? Naw… A proposed 100 percent increase in the security budget isn’t enough to soothe the angry residents, so watch out, party people: Young plans to roam the bars, collecting “evidence” of binge drinking. What kind of evidence? “You can tell if people are slurring their words,” he says.
Mardi Gras! Mardi Gras Inc. executive director Tim Lorson says they’re doing what they can. A new residents-only parking permit for the Yellow Zone will keep out the riffraff—provided it works. ”If they give it to one of their friends outside the neighborhood, they’re only screwing themselves,” he says.
