Another glorious Mardi Gras is here (we just shifted the party from the church parking lot, where Grela and Bes rode past, to home), and I still have not received an apology from the pastor from a certain potato-producing state who has never been to New Orleans in his life, but felt qualified to use our beloved tradition of Mardi Gras parades as an illustration about sin in a popular Lutheran devotional the day before Ash Wednesday a couple years ago.
My congregation was not impressed.
The potato pastor was called on it. He was asked to retract it. He was even invited to come and join us for a real New Orleans Mardi Gras. But instead of joining us for the party, he dourly stood by his insulting words and just blew us off. Nice. Having grown up in Ohio, I know that the cold weather (especially this time of year) can certainly make one's world rather gray and drab. But why is it that the cold doesn't turn Canadians (nor Wisconsinites and Minnesotans) into wet blankets and scolds? That is one of the great mysteries of North American culture.
Well, it's his loss. Although the weather was chilly, it was beautifully clear. For yet another year, we had a wonderful time of family fun (you can see pictures of the "debauchery" here - note all the children, both tossing and receiving beads, stuffed animals, candy, and toys. Quelle scandale! Well, one of our cats (who, incidentally, was not wearing a stitch of clothing) did vomit when we got home. And I did manage to drink an entire Corona over the course of the day. I can just hear some of my more northerly brethren clicking their tongues from here. Tsk tsk.
And, incidentally, I am only kidding. It is Fat Tuesday, after all.
The mood this year was rather footbally, as this years Carnival colors (green, purple, and yellow) were augmented by a healthy dose of black and gold. I got some really nice fleur-de-lis throws. There were quite a few spontaneous chants of "Who dat?" and eruptions of the anthemic Stand Up and Get Crunk - especially as one of the Saints' players rode past us in one of today's parades. For his part, Leo was very excited to get a couple sets of beads featuring insects and spiders (as well as a crab and an octopus) from "Aunt Jean," who rode in the parade and was "scandalously" tossing beads from the Charlotte's Web float with her daughter and granddaughter. Leo was replete with joy. I immediately thought of the Nunc Dimittis: "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace" - Leo's life had become complete at that point.
However, I half expect to see Jean's parade picture make the cover of Lutheran Witness as an example of sin - especially as payback from angry Colts fans.
Sigh.
Wet blankets, Minnesota, Judas H Priest on an ice raft, holy crap we're not wet blankets.
ReplyDeleteAnybody can party in their shirtsleeves. Pikers. You wanna get out there for days on end, right in the middle of Winter, colder than a billy goat's mother-in-law, and hang at the Ice Carnival with King Boreas himself, the god of the North Wind, and his whole bloody family?
Come to St Paul once and try it out! (Warning: St Paul is also a city of seven hills.)
Corona? Oh, the debauchery!!
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