Parade Pageantry Posting

As mentioned in my last entry, my krewe really went all out in supporting my position as Grand Marshal and the four krewe chiefs (I abstained) decided our float’s theme would primarily reflect my position and secondarily respond to the “Buy Youx Bailout” parade theme.

Coincidentally, it was time for a major overhaul of our float anyway (new wood and paint) so the weekend work began a good month out:

And here you have it:

A caricature of my Batman self with the theme deftly woven in. That’s a 3-D left jab on the float by the way.

[An aside: I have been associated with this Krewe of Krime for 12 years and was one of the very few invited to join who is not a lawyer (hence the name…get it?). Yes, predominately made up of lawyers…lawyers of all kinds…prosecutors, defense, tax, corporate, title, etc. About five years ago I showed up for staging in this “Incredibles” Batman suit made for me by the wife of a friend. With hands on hips, I announced to all there, “While I may not be a lawyer, I too am a crime fighter.” They all loved it, so it stuck.]

Because of my position this year, I decided I needed to go a little upscale and purchased a real police utility belt to replace the velcro-fastened strip of yellow material with boxes drawn on it to resemble the Batman utility belt. I carefully chose each belt pouch ala cart to fit my specific needs. When finished, I was able to carry all superhero essentials with me, such as: a pint flask of Jack Daniels, a 16 oz can of Budweiser, a Batman Pez candy dispenser, a cat o’ nine tails (for Bad Girls…and the lovely Robin would strike the “position” on command throughout the day for demonstration purposes), a set of pink fur-lined handcuffs (for the more resistant Bad Girls), and a picture of the Bat-dog:

Oh…and you may have noticed in some of the pics how my Bat-ears seem a little floppy at times. To remedy, I also had a pouch on my utility belt which kept a medicine bottle filled with little blue pills, boldly labeled…VIAGRA. I’d present it to all those who commented on my ears and would explain that one of these and in a half hour I could cut glass with those puppies. I also told my krewe buddies that if they noticed my ears were at attention for more than four hours they were to get me to a hospital.

So we staged in our number 1 position at about 8:00 and entertained the passers-by and ourselves for the four hours prior to start. Although we did find some time to…imbibe in those four hours, the photo requests kept us pretty busy…us being celebrities and all. Many krewe members also decided to step-up their dress this year too. Our signature costume for years for most has been the stereotypical black and white striped prisoners’ uniforms, but this year some others decided to dress as other Batman characters – Joker, Penguin, Riddler (not pictured):

Others dressed as bad cops…VERY bad cops:

Bad cops are working over some penis-shaped popsicles. I had to bring out the cat for that…

During these four hours I also had the opportunity to participate in a long-standing Spanish Town Mardi Gras tradition. The Grand Marshal (only) is provided with a stack of press-on tattoos of the event’s signature character – the head of a pink flamingo wearing a black top hat and sunglasses. Since it is only provided by the Grand Marshal, it is a coveted prize for most young women who are aware of the tradition…and many are. I ran out in about an hour to the disappointment of many seeking one and to my own great disappointment as well. The Grand Marshal selects who is to receive one, where it is to be placed, and does the application…personally. Well. I had my hands full there. Not only with many lovely exposed breasts, but a few inner thighs as well (determined by the recipient’s wear and…attributes). I would lick the exposed area and then apply the tattoo. Of course I was surrounded by many of my krewe members for the opportunities presented and one advised me after one of the earliest applications that I did not have to lick the area, the tattoo would stick without that. Better krewe members whisked him off immediately.

Finally the time came to mount up and we cranked up our on-board music system with the Batman theme (rock version) and we rolled:

And this is what I saw:

As we entered the historic Spanish Town neighborhood from which this all began, I felt like Moses parting the Red Sea.

And then we wound around into the heart of downtown:

For two hours, above our jam music, I heard the incessant screaming and pleading of the estimated 150,000 to 200,000 parade revelers. I was a Rock Star.

And then it was over. As is our tradition, we disembarked and went to our regular watering hole to eat and de-tox, pausing for more many pictures upon request en route and while there. A few hours later, one of my sons drove me home and I told him the expression of “15 minutes of fame” made more sense to me know…but my fame was even longer and it was just amazing fun.

I wrote a letter to the 12 board members responsible for selecting me and thanked them for the honor and the experience of a lifetime. I concluded the letter with “P.S. If you have trouble coming up with a Queen for 2010…I’m willing to make a life change.” Perspective, eh?

A few days later I ran into one of these board members and we talked a bit. I asked him a question I had been wanting to ask since I was first notified of my selection, “Why me?” He said a number of them had seen me in the parade over the years and they decided anybody bold enough to look like that (my Batman) was just who they were looking for. So once again, my life’s philosophy was of great benefit. This philosophy was sent to me many years ago and a copy is posted on my office wall at work and on the refrigerator at home: “You can’t stay young forever, but you can be immature for the rest of your life.”

Why not?