I agree wholeheartedly with this writer; the style in which some folks take over our space for weeks at a time does not honor the spirit of Carnival. Another reason I prefer the roaming of the downtown Mardi Gras experience...
Letter to the Editor
Essays, links and visuals highlighting an alternative, resilient place at the strategic crescent of one mighty river.
Showing posts with label Mardi Gras. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mardi Gras. Show all posts
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Thursday, February 09, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
'titRex throws it to UpRex
(as my own homage and urging for people to support 'titRex in their David and Goliath fight with Uptown Rex)
New Orleans 2011- The self-appointed Little Minister of Information for 'titRex appeared before a small group of reporters at Little Tokyo:
"We, the appropriately-scaled krewe of 'titRex, appeal to the grand and lumbering Uptown Rex to release us from your golden claws of legalese.
We had no idea that there was another krewe with the same devotion to Rex Reed! Of course, we should have considered that our favorite son would engender such devotion after all. Our deep (yet small and carefully made) apologies for overlooking your krewe history.
As for changing our name, we instead invite Uptown Rex to a "float off" where we will both attempt to navigate our signature floats through the traditional pre-1970s downtown route to see who- (speaks to an aide: what do you mean they can't? Oh. I see)
(clears his throat)
Well. Instead, we invite our uptown friends to join us in a meeting of our krewes (another interruption. he confers with aides. They won't? why not? Who is Comus? Are you kidding?)
(LM considers for a long moment, then:)
To our supporters and to Uptown Rex we ask that we both find a way to live in this glorious city, and yet to each respect our differences. To show our commitment to sharing the Mardi Gras season, we, 'titRex(Reed) promise:
Not to ask anyone that has a net worth over 200,000 to serve as royalty.
Not to ask any debutante of the current season to serve as Queen or in the court. Especially if she is currently majoring in communications or marketing at any Southern university.
To restrict our floats to less than 100 feet in length and use less than a small city's allotment in fuel during the parade.
To not use our krewe time to make large behind-the-scenes business deals that change the course of the city.
To drink only well brands of liquor during parade.
Use only handmade and amusing throws.
Maintain our raucous, human-powered activity but only for the enjoyment of our paradegoers and NOT for our krewe members who live along our route.
Never to impede the control of the city by the krewe members of UpRex.
New Orleans 2011- The self-appointed Little Minister of Information for 'titRex appeared before a small group of reporters at Little Tokyo:
"We, the appropriately-scaled krewe of 'titRex, appeal to the grand and lumbering Uptown Rex to release us from your golden claws of legalese.
We had no idea that there was another krewe with the same devotion to Rex Reed! Of course, we should have considered that our favorite son would engender such devotion after all. Our deep (yet small and carefully made) apologies for overlooking your krewe history.
As for changing our name, we instead invite Uptown Rex to a "float off" where we will both attempt to navigate our signature floats through the traditional pre-1970s downtown route to see who- (speaks to an aide: what do you mean they can't? Oh. I see)
(clears his throat)
Well. Instead, we invite our uptown friends to join us in a meeting of our krewes (another interruption. he confers with aides. They won't? why not? Who is Comus? Are you kidding?)
(LM considers for a long moment, then:)
To our supporters and to Uptown Rex we ask that we both find a way to live in this glorious city, and yet to each respect our differences. To show our commitment to sharing the Mardi Gras season, we, 'titRex(Reed) promise:
Not to ask anyone that has a net worth over 200,000 to serve as royalty.
Not to ask any debutante of the current season to serve as Queen or in the court. Especially if she is currently majoring in communications or marketing at any Southern university.
To restrict our floats to less than 100 feet in length and use less than a small city's allotment in fuel during the parade.
To not use our krewe time to make large behind-the-scenes business deals that change the course of the city.
To drink only well brands of liquor during parade.
Use only handmade and amusing throws.
Maintain our raucous, human-powered activity but only for the enjoyment of our paradegoers and NOT for our krewe members who live along our route.
Never to impede the control of the city by the krewe members of UpRex.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Public space is not to be used for creativity? odd time to tell us...
Irony is actually seldom seen in our world, contrary to what Alanis Morissette says (most of her examples are just things that suck).
Recently, we got a true ironic moment here in New Orleans when the NOPD shut down the 20th year of the Costume Bazaar held on Frenchman by local artists on Barkus Sunday.
(I actually was standing next to the artist who I believe wasn't even actually part of the deal, the vendor set up in front of Cafe Brazil-when the police officer told her this was illegal. Interestingly, I watched her point across the street at the Blue Nile directing the police to those folks.)
I could see it was going to get shut down by the vehemence of the officer. I could see that it was going to be a doozy of a week as well...
The ironic piece comes from the fact that many of us were coming from or going to a Carnival parade and sitting in chairs in streets, or sitting on on private property (stoops and such) and no one cared. No one cared because we know (and the police know) that most of us agree to the social contract when we are together in public space that we are just borrowing some of it for a while but not violating it. And if we overstate our control of the public space, we will probably get corrected by others or maybe the police.
And that we were in the middle of weeks of that and yet the artists who inspire us, who share their talent with us get shut down because they need a permit to gather.
Maybe we need to pass a law that if 3 or more artists gather with their handmade items they can sell without hassle if they agree to monitor themselves and to be orderly in the use of public space, leaving it better than it was, while being our eyes on the street. In other words, maybe we need to establish social contracts for many types of entrepreneurial behavior that falls under itinerant.•
Wait, something is nagging at the back of my head. Wait for it.
Oh, we do have that- Jackson Square.
but it used to be a entire city that made us famous with a street culture that came from a diverse use of our city streets where musicians, painters, sculptures, streetwalkers, politicians, sailors, and regular folks met regularly . When did we lose that exactly? When did it become just one square in the whole town?
and do know that those in Jackson Square have to have permits to get to vend even there. and have to get there at 5 am to stake out a space cuz there are so few. Something seems wrong. Permits to hang things on a fence to promote the city. nagging in head again...
Maybe its time we start to collect at our own Tahrir Squares on issues like this too. I know its not a dictator that needs to go, but maybe if we just start collecting and having these public conversations more regularly we can influence our dict- sorry, government leaders.
And maybe we can collectively agree on a simple process:
You want to have a artist sale less than monthly? 3 or more of you:
1. Ask a business owner in a cultural district to use their unused space or day. You pick an area are where there are businesses that can benefit from your presence.
2. He or she says yes.
3. Mention it to the adjoining neighbors.
4. If someone has a good reason against it they tell you and then can organize the majority against it or if that fails, just grumble to themselves.
5. You tell the city so they can make sure nothing illegal or dangerous is being sold and that they can assist the organizers if needed.
6. You sketch out a nice layout leaving room for fire exits and handicapped people which you post. You sell some stuff.
7. You clean up after yourselves.
As far as sales taxes and permits, you ask artists to register every 3 years and pay sales tax on anything when they register for what they resell that is not significantly altered by the artist, No tax on things they make.
You set up a committee of artists and citizens that serve for 5 years, making a small stipend who roam and check here and there. They cannot serve again and when they vend, are excused themselves from being allowed to inspect.
and listen, this is just off the top of my head. better minds can come up with better plans with a few weeks of thinking about it.
And you allow street culture to thrive. You allow artists to be the leaders they are and let them get out and sell their items when they are ready to do so and those who yearn for a storefront to get to be business owners ultimately that understand the city and can pick a location that is based on their itinerant experience.
You allow self-determination.
And you build your city.
And if we actually get things like this done, we can say we are on our way to being a great city.
without irony.
• A person or agent of a person who offers for sale, barter, or exchange anything of value at any place in, upon, along, or through any street, alley, or other public place, or on private property. The term "itinerant retailer" does not include an owner or operator of a business located in a building or structure being used for a commercial or retail purpose, nor to such owner or operator's activities adjacent to or abutting such building or structure when items sold on property adjacent to or abutting a commercial building or structure are the primary type of goods offered for sale inside that commercial building or structure.
oh okay.
Recently, we got a true ironic moment here in New Orleans when the NOPD shut down the 20th year of the Costume Bazaar held on Frenchman by local artists on Barkus Sunday.
(I actually was standing next to the artist who I believe wasn't even actually part of the deal, the vendor set up in front of Cafe Brazil-when the police officer told her this was illegal. Interestingly, I watched her point across the street at the Blue Nile directing the police to those folks.)
I could see it was going to get shut down by the vehemence of the officer. I could see that it was going to be a doozy of a week as well...
The ironic piece comes from the fact that many of us were coming from or going to a Carnival parade and sitting in chairs in streets, or sitting on on private property (stoops and such) and no one cared. No one cared because we know (and the police know) that most of us agree to the social contract when we are together in public space that we are just borrowing some of it for a while but not violating it. And if we overstate our control of the public space, we will probably get corrected by others or maybe the police.
And that we were in the middle of weeks of that and yet the artists who inspire us, who share their talent with us get shut down because they need a permit to gather.
Maybe we need to pass a law that if 3 or more artists gather with their handmade items they can sell without hassle if they agree to monitor themselves and to be orderly in the use of public space, leaving it better than it was, while being our eyes on the street. In other words, maybe we need to establish social contracts for many types of entrepreneurial behavior that falls under itinerant.•
Wait, something is nagging at the back of my head. Wait for it.
Oh, we do have that- Jackson Square.
but it used to be a entire city that made us famous with a street culture that came from a diverse use of our city streets where musicians, painters, sculptures, streetwalkers, politicians, sailors, and regular folks met regularly . When did we lose that exactly? When did it become just one square in the whole town?
and do know that those in Jackson Square have to have permits to get to vend even there. and have to get there at 5 am to stake out a space cuz there are so few. Something seems wrong. Permits to hang things on a fence to promote the city. nagging in head again...
Maybe its time we start to collect at our own Tahrir Squares on issues like this too. I know its not a dictator that needs to go, but maybe if we just start collecting and having these public conversations more regularly we can influence our dict- sorry, government leaders.
And maybe we can collectively agree on a simple process:
You want to have a artist sale less than monthly? 3 or more of you:
1. Ask a business owner in a cultural district to use their unused space or day. You pick an area are where there are businesses that can benefit from your presence.
2. He or she says yes.
3. Mention it to the adjoining neighbors.
4. If someone has a good reason against it they tell you and then can organize the majority against it or if that fails, just grumble to themselves.
5. You tell the city so they can make sure nothing illegal or dangerous is being sold and that they can assist the organizers if needed.
6. You sketch out a nice layout leaving room for fire exits and handicapped people which you post. You sell some stuff.
7. You clean up after yourselves.
As far as sales taxes and permits, you ask artists to register every 3 years and pay sales tax on anything when they register for what they resell that is not significantly altered by the artist, No tax on things they make.
You set up a committee of artists and citizens that serve for 5 years, making a small stipend who roam and check here and there. They cannot serve again and when they vend, are excused themselves from being allowed to inspect.
and listen, this is just off the top of my head. better minds can come up with better plans with a few weeks of thinking about it.
And you allow street culture to thrive. You allow artists to be the leaders they are and let them get out and sell their items when they are ready to do so and those who yearn for a storefront to get to be business owners ultimately that understand the city and can pick a location that is based on their itinerant experience.
You allow self-determination.
And you build your city.
And if we actually get things like this done, we can say we are on our way to being a great city.
without irony.
• A person or agent of a person who offers for sale, barter, or exchange anything of value at any place in, upon, along, or through any street, alley, or other public place, or on private property. The term "itinerant retailer" does not include an owner or operator of a business located in a building or structure being used for a commercial or retail purpose, nor to such owner or operator's activities adjacent to or abutting such building or structure when items sold on property adjacent to or abutting a commercial building or structure are the primary type of goods offered for sale inside that commercial building or structure.
oh okay.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Another Saturday to Muse about
So, I have been absent from this blog for lots of reasons lately. I return with a renewed sense of joy about my home and gratitude that I can share it with so many friends and family. I will be recording what seems to be a resurgence in shared fun in this most joyful of cities. Since 2005, the fun has had a tinge of seriousness to it as if we partied for our lives. This year, the Saints graced us with their best effort and gave us the chance to relax while they carried our torch for a while...
Today, Saturday February 13 is a good example of a New Orleans day in winter fun:
got up late, checked the news websites for pictures from last night's 4 parades on St. Charles. Even with serious cold, crowds were deep and lively it seemed. I had regretfully stayed home to nurse a slight cold and get better before Fat Tuesday. As usual, looking at the pictures and reading the updates from friends on Facebook made me wish I had been there. Muses is my favorite float parade by far. But you learn to pace yourself...
While taking Maddie for a sunny walk with a Fair Grinds 4-shot Americano in hand, I knock on neighbor R's door to get a further update after getting a note that she got a new job. We sat in her cheerful front room dogs relaxing after nervous greetings, drinking our coffee and catching up. After a lengthy talk in front of her gas flame heater (fake logs are very nice) I leave her to her day (she says she is staying in with computer work) and I keep on walking. I phone M&V to see what is up, they are up and brewing coffee already, even after being at Muses quite late. I promise to help with traffic control during Endymion and hang up. I see neighbors along the way and stop and chat about the Saints, the Saints parade, last night and costumes for Tuesday. Folks beep and wave as they pass and everyone just waves, assuming we all know them.
After leaving Maddie to the sunny yard, I unlock the bike and roll it out to the street. Adding books for S&J to the basket, I make myself a freshly-squeezed satsuma juice adding some carrot ginger from the market to it. I position it carefully in the back basket and head out.
Riding along N. Lopez, I say hello to dog walkers, truck-float makers and early Endymiongoers parking. I make it to Orleans Avenue and realize I must wait for the floats to pass as they head to the start of the route. Empty of riders, with full bags of beads hanging on every available area, they are full of promise and goodwill. The police directing traffic look stern in their motorcycle gear, and I wait til one tells me I can pass-I see a block long gap, and moving slowly and keeping an eye on the cop I cross, smiling and nodding at him as I pass (this is called foreshadowing, Virginia). As I successfully cross, I hear my name called and see that S&J are on their front porch on the route watching the floats pass, so I join them.
We chat about this parade (not one of my favorites I tell them along with why) and as we do, we see an altercation between another bicyclist and that cop. She seemed to have crossed without permission or without enough of a gap for his liking. Words are exchanged, she seems to be very angry and very close to him. He forcibly takes her arm and pushes her away from him. She goes back to him and yells some more, he pushes her more forcibly and back and forth until other police come and swarm her, pushing her strongly to the ground. She fights them and ends up in a headlock and then cuffed. The cop picks her bike up and throws it next to her. Not much later, she is put into a police car and her bike is locked by the cop to the pole. The three of us seem to have a bit of a difference as to culpability; I tell S&J that I saw the cop turn away from her at least twice and she went back to him and that losing ones temper during Mardi Gras with a cop means jail time, and since its Saturday, that could mean until MONDAY. They feel bad for her and say many times how little she is...
Either way, it sucks for her and we walk over to make sure her bike is locked after she is taken away.
I get to M&V and things look pretty quiet. Last year at the same time, we had people trying to drive SUVs on to the lot, knocking down small trees and generally being pinheads. This year, nothing so far.
We have an amazing new vantage point from their front and back porches and windows high atop their Hagan home, just moved into; the sunny new front room is very attractive and pleasant. More people show up all day and food appears from the cupboard and from A's. V generously shares her Muses loot (bags and bags of beads, koozies and various pink things) and asks for advice on how to display her 2 prize Muses shoes.
I go home on bike for a few minutes and eat some shittaake mushroom yakamein from Karma Kitchen (very good!) and make myself a rum and OJ drink and bicycle back to their place. Many people have an animated, roving conversation all afternoon, while we mind the green spaces and eat, hooting at both M & S for trying to avoid finding the baby when they go for a slice of king cake. M spends most of the time tidying and checking his solar hot water heater temperature from his computer, while V chats with all comers and comes and goes with Hettie the scruffy wonder dog following her.
Parade time comes and we all stay with the good conversation and the sun streaming in. Spirits are high. Theories are shared about the crowds this year (seem smaller to you?) and costume ideas for Tuesday (can I get you to face paint me before I go out Tuesday am?) along with normal conversations (What do you think of this restaurant?) in the quiet corners. Kids throw a ball back and forth outside waiting for parents to start walking to the parade.
As the sun starts to go down, the cold intensifies; no one heads to the parade yet. I decide to go home to collect and walk Maddie and say goodbyes with V walking me to the end of her lane. We chat more about costumes and promise to talk the next day (let's see about going to Orpheus on Monday...)
on my leisurely ride home, I run into B, who looks tired. He says N rode on Muses; he dropped her off at 4 pm and they did not get home til after 2 am this morning, so they stayed inside all day today. They leave Monday for a reading (a state away) and seem to be satisfied with their level of revelry for the year. Since I saw them in the 'titRex parade and now I know they did Muses, I can only imagine...
As I walk away from the route, throngs of people in groups wearing freshly caught beads head to their cars, while helicopters buzz over head recording the parade route. The roar from Canal can be heard all the way to Ursuline and beyond. With tomorrow, comes another series of choices-of companions and stages to settle on to experience Carnival life.
Today, Saturday February 13 is a good example of a New Orleans day in winter fun:
got up late, checked the news websites for pictures from last night's 4 parades on St. Charles. Even with serious cold, crowds were deep and lively it seemed. I had regretfully stayed home to nurse a slight cold and get better before Fat Tuesday. As usual, looking at the pictures and reading the updates from friends on Facebook made me wish I had been there. Muses is my favorite float parade by far. But you learn to pace yourself...
While taking Maddie for a sunny walk with a Fair Grinds 4-shot Americano in hand, I knock on neighbor R's door to get a further update after getting a note that she got a new job. We sat in her cheerful front room dogs relaxing after nervous greetings, drinking our coffee and catching up. After a lengthy talk in front of her gas flame heater (fake logs are very nice) I leave her to her day (she says she is staying in with computer work) and I keep on walking. I phone M&V to see what is up, they are up and brewing coffee already, even after being at Muses quite late. I promise to help with traffic control during Endymion and hang up. I see neighbors along the way and stop and chat about the Saints, the Saints parade, last night and costumes for Tuesday. Folks beep and wave as they pass and everyone just waves, assuming we all know them.
After leaving Maddie to the sunny yard, I unlock the bike and roll it out to the street. Adding books for S&J to the basket, I make myself a freshly-squeezed satsuma juice adding some carrot ginger from the market to it. I position it carefully in the back basket and head out.
Riding along N. Lopez, I say hello to dog walkers, truck-float makers and early Endymiongoers parking. I make it to Orleans Avenue and realize I must wait for the floats to pass as they head to the start of the route. Empty of riders, with full bags of beads hanging on every available area, they are full of promise and goodwill. The police directing traffic look stern in their motorcycle gear, and I wait til one tells me I can pass-I see a block long gap, and moving slowly and keeping an eye on the cop I cross, smiling and nodding at him as I pass (this is called foreshadowing, Virginia). As I successfully cross, I hear my name called and see that S&J are on their front porch on the route watching the floats pass, so I join them.
We chat about this parade (not one of my favorites I tell them along with why) and as we do, we see an altercation between another bicyclist and that cop. She seemed to have crossed without permission or without enough of a gap for his liking. Words are exchanged, she seems to be very angry and very close to him. He forcibly takes her arm and pushes her away from him. She goes back to him and yells some more, he pushes her more forcibly and back and forth until other police come and swarm her, pushing her strongly to the ground. She fights them and ends up in a headlock and then cuffed. The cop picks her bike up and throws it next to her. Not much later, she is put into a police car and her bike is locked by the cop to the pole. The three of us seem to have a bit of a difference as to culpability; I tell S&J that I saw the cop turn away from her at least twice and she went back to him and that losing ones temper during Mardi Gras with a cop means jail time, and since its Saturday, that could mean until MONDAY. They feel bad for her and say many times how little she is...
Either way, it sucks for her and we walk over to make sure her bike is locked after she is taken away.
I get to M&V and things look pretty quiet. Last year at the same time, we had people trying to drive SUVs on to the lot, knocking down small trees and generally being pinheads. This year, nothing so far.
We have an amazing new vantage point from their front and back porches and windows high atop their Hagan home, just moved into; the sunny new front room is very attractive and pleasant. More people show up all day and food appears from the cupboard and from A's. V generously shares her Muses loot (bags and bags of beads, koozies and various pink things) and asks for advice on how to display her 2 prize Muses shoes.
I go home on bike for a few minutes and eat some shittaake mushroom yakamein from Karma Kitchen (very good!) and make myself a rum and OJ drink and bicycle back to their place. Many people have an animated, roving conversation all afternoon, while we mind the green spaces and eat, hooting at both M & S for trying to avoid finding the baby when they go for a slice of king cake. M spends most of the time tidying and checking his solar hot water heater temperature from his computer, while V chats with all comers and comes and goes with Hettie the scruffy wonder dog following her.
Parade time comes and we all stay with the good conversation and the sun streaming in. Spirits are high. Theories are shared about the crowds this year (seem smaller to you?) and costume ideas for Tuesday (can I get you to face paint me before I go out Tuesday am?) along with normal conversations (What do you think of this restaurant?) in the quiet corners. Kids throw a ball back and forth outside waiting for parents to start walking to the parade.
As the sun starts to go down, the cold intensifies; no one heads to the parade yet. I decide to go home to collect and walk Maddie and say goodbyes with V walking me to the end of her lane. We chat more about costumes and promise to talk the next day (let's see about going to Orpheus on Monday...)
on my leisurely ride home, I run into B, who looks tired. He says N rode on Muses; he dropped her off at 4 pm and they did not get home til after 2 am this morning, so they stayed inside all day today. They leave Monday for a reading (a state away) and seem to be satisfied with their level of revelry for the year. Since I saw them in the 'titRex parade and now I know they did Muses, I can only imagine...
As I walk away from the route, throngs of people in groups wearing freshly caught beads head to their cars, while helicopters buzz over head recording the parade route. The roar from Canal can be heard all the way to Ursuline and beyond. With tomorrow, comes another series of choices-of companions and stages to settle on to experience Carnival life.
Friday, February 06, 2009
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