Where to start?
Like this. I suppose. For me, Mardi Gras has been good. I’m happy to be out there. I’m happy with my pictures. The neighborhood from which I like to work has been wonderful. People are happy. Celebrating. Smiling.
You can see that energy in my little portfolio of pictures.
This has been a very rough season. There have been five shootings along the parade route. One guy got shot because someone had a gun in his pants, used the port-a-potty to do what he needed to do, pulled his pants down and accidentally shot someone standing nearby in the stomach.
This number does not count all the shootings in various parts of the city. If this keeps up, we are set to break the shooting and murder records since before I returned after the storm.
Of course that’s not all. The incident that made international news occurred a few hours later. Some guy decided he needed to drink all the liquor that he could hold. He drove down the street, weaving all the way. A big street. To an even bigger intersection. Where the huge Endymion parade was rolling. He hit two cars and a dump truck. Thankfully, the dump truck stopped his forward motion because, by this time he was on the neutral ground where thousands of people were standing.
Twenty eight people were injured. Twenty one were injured badly enough to be transported to seven hospitals. Twelve are in critical condition. The injured included a police officer who was doing her job. And, a three-year old toddler.
I don’t know what to say. Except. Stupidity appears to be running rampant. How hard is to get along with your neighbor? How hard is it to show a little respect and common decency? I’ve seen more things in the past few days that just cause me to shake my head in wonder. There are four days of Mardi Gras left. The days get more and more intense as we get close to Mardi Gras Day. I hate to say this, but I can hardly wait for this year’s season to end. Sheesh. I’m almost afraid to go out there. Afraid to do my job. Afraid to be in crowds.
That ain’t good. That’s no way to live.
The day after Mardi Gras Day is Ash Wednesday. I think the whole city — Catholic or not — should go get ashes. And, get on their knees and beg for forgiveness. Me too.
That’s my thinking for this very pretty Sunday morning. It should not be confused with a rant. If I said what I really wanted to say…
The pictures. A mix of a couple of parades. What Mardi Gras is ** supposed ** to look like. To feel like. To be.