AS SERIOUS AS A MAN DRESSED LIKE A PIRATE HOBO CAN BE
It had rained during our lunch respite, but the crowds remained strong and steady if not overwhelming as I left Superior Seafood and began to wander down St. Charles Avenue. The truck parade was chugging along–a good two hours strong–and would still be in its final stages a couple of hours later as I reached Canal Street, blocking my entrance into the French Quarter. It was a little melancholy leaving my friends again and setting off alone into one of the greatest communal celebrations in our nation. I’d always attended Mardi Gras with friends, the last time with some of my dearest on this planet, but this time I was on a mission as opposed to just hanging out. Despite slinging a hobo pack over my pirate-clad shoulder, I was serious about documenting as much as I could before midnight struck. [Read more…]