There was this moment on Saturday down at Soulard Mardi Gras, one that kind of encapsulated how things at that event can simultaneously be good, not good, and genuinely bizarre.
Inside the Banana Bicycle Brigade’s compound, revelers from that group and their affiliates partied without worry. Just on the other side of the fence line, two knuckleheads in green and purple were peeing behind a dumpster. Pointing a camera in their general direction, one of the two noticed and began shouting, “Are you taking a picture? If you post that, I’m’a’gonna sue you!” Above the guy loomed a giant giraffe’s head and neck. At Mardi Gras, this moment sometimes passes for reasonable conversation.
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It’s all a matter of perspective, perhaps. Expectations count, too.
For the fourth straight year, the Banana Bikes krewe invited me along; twice, I’ve walked the Grand Parade route with them, twice I’ve ridden, a la this year. As most know, Saturday’s weather caused some issues for viewers and participants, both, as temps plunged from balmy, unseasonable 60s and 70s to a more-February-like 30-plus. And, as any old person will tell you, sometimes it’s not the actual temperature, but the wind that matters.
That was certainly true for the Banana Bikes, as whipping winds took out two of the main attractions this year. With the group taking on “Fantasia” for the cinema-themed parade, riders, walkers, and affiliates dressed as everything from Mickey Mice to mushrooms, with a #18 slot in the 80-float parade. The dog float, starring doberman siblings Star and Sky, were knocked out of the box early, as the giant Mickey Mouse placard caught wind and brought the contraption down. Quickly freed from the cart, the dogs walked the parade instead, at the sides of their people, Bob Bullock and Dan Hoadley.
Rider Jon Jun Echols, meanwhile, was walking his giraffe uphill during the early going, as the parade loops out of the Busch Stadium parking lot and onto city streets. Maybe a handful of minutes into the effort, Nichols hopped aboard his steed, rode briefly, and then, he, too, was caught by a ferocious blast of cold wind, with rider and giraffe dramatically toppling to the pavement. The crowd oohed and ahhed, but Nichols, ever the showman, walked the contraption through the rest of the parade, oftentimes pausing along the fenceline, the giraffe’s neck hanging out above the crowd.
“I used it as a puppet,” he’d say later in the day inside the BBB HQ, enthusiastically pleased with how it went, despite the change of plans. From the looks of Echols, though, it went just as planned.
Outside of the BBB compound, the party raged. Located within a block of both McGurk’s and Nadine’s, it didn’t take long to find signs of life and the absolute best of the options was taking place just northwest, on the parking lot across the street from Nadine’s. There, Matthew Traeger was ringleading a pair of events: a staged drag show, briefly overrun by an overserved reveler; and the drag races, the famed event in which crowd members (and some of the drag queens) race down the block in pumps.
The event, not surprisingly, drew a large, enthusiastic crowd, which pushed a couple people deep all along the race route. Following the races, another round of drag performances took place, the audience a mix of folks who “get” the concept (their dollar bills proudly waving) and those probably seeing a drag show for the first time. And then there was those of us who enjoy drag shows, but have never such a thing happening in broad daylight.
At Soulard Mardi Gras, you find fun where you can.
Addendum: last year, this writer got hot and bothered by the lack of diversity in the parade’s ranks and general feel of sterility in how floats were being presented; in short, hundreds of white folks on corporate-branded flat bed trucks does not a lively parade make. It was argued that while St. Louis’ version doesn’t need to completely mimic that of New Orleans’, to completely abandon the things that make the original a special experience seems extreme. Through friends of organizers, the feedback to the piece suggested that kids under 16 couldn’t take part, and that marching bands were hard to find/book. This year, a dance group of African-American tweens participated, as did the Saint Boogie Brass Band, both groups a few slots behind the Bananas. (And, of course, the Lawnchair Brigade’s a constant.) So. There’s hope yet.
Other Addendum: Instead of packing a camera, I decided to just shoot things on my iPhone, but ran the batteries to dead via Facebook Live. Dumb. Operator fail this year. If there’s a next, multi-camera action is promised. There was a lot more taking place, visually and otherwise, than this slim batch of pics would indicate. D’oh.
