Indian Red, Indian Red...

Super Sunday - Amy Loewy, 2013

"He won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh, how I love to hear

Him call Indian Red"

My Indian Red by Danny Barker

I so wish I could say I'm an authority on the Mardi Gras Indians...but alas I am not.  I do however know the community in which the Mardi Gras Indians live, is one steeped in an incredible history.  One in which I know, just on the surface. 

Super Sunday - Amy Loewy, 2013

The Mardi Gras Indians hand bead (tiny seed beads) the incredible patches covering their suits, taking between 6-8 months to plan and create.  The suits could cost thousands of dollars and may weigh as much as 100 pounds.  Each Indian designs and creates his own suit; elaborate bead patches depict meaningful and symbolic scenes.^[3] Beads, feathers, and sequins are integral parts of a Mardi Gras Indian suit. Uptown New Orleans tribes tend to have more sculptural and abstract African-inspired suits; downtown tribes have more pictorial suits with heavy Native American influences.^[4] Their are approximately 38 tribes and are loosely organized as the Uptown Indians and the Downtown Indians. 

In the early days of the Indians, Mardi Gras was a day of both partying and bloodshed. “Masking” and parading was a time to settle grudges.^[5]  This part of Mardi Gras Indian history is immortalized in James Sugar Boy Crawford's song, "Jock O Mo" (better known and often covered as "Iko Iko"), based on their taunting chants. However, in the late 1960s, Tootie Montana, "Chief of Chiefs", fought to end violence between the Mardi Gras Indian Tribes.^[6] He said, “I was going to make them stop fighting with the gun and the knife and start fighting with the needle and thread.”^[7] Today, the Mardi Gras Indians are largely unplagued by violence; instead they base their fights over the “prettiness” of their suits.^[5]



Super Sunday - Amy Loewy, 2013

In the 15 years I've lived in New Orleans, I've taken a  couple thousand photographs, primarily on Super Sunday.  Which is always the closest Sunday to March 19th, which is St. Joseph's Day.

Mardi Gras Indians have been parading in New Orleans at least since the mid-19th century and possibly before. The history of the Mardi Gras Indians is shrouded in mystery and folklore.

According to Wikipedia: In 1740, New Orleans’ Congo Square was a cultural center for African music and dance. New Orleans was more liberal than many southern cities, and on Sundays African slaves gathered to sing folk songs, play traditional music, and dance.  ^[1]   The lively parties were recounted by a Northern observer as being “indescribable... Never will you see gayer countenances, demonstrations of more forgetfulness of the past and the future, and more entire abandonment to the joyous existence to the present movement." [2]    The idea of letting loose and embracing traditional African music and dance is a backbone of the Mardi Gras Indians practice.

Super Sunday - Amy Loewy, 2013

It has been said, on Mardi Gras in 1885, fifty to sixty Plains Indians marched in native dress on the ^[1]
streets of New Orleans. Later that year, the first Mardi Gras Indian gang was formed; the tribe was named “The Creole Wild West” and was most likely composed of members of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.


Super Sunday - Amy Loewy, 2013

As usual, on Super Sunday I spent 5 hours in the amazing presence of the Mardi Gras Indians. As usual, I ran into my friend Ali and we discussed the fact that the Indians is one of our favorite Mardi Gras traditions. A sunburn and a couple hundred photographs later I went home exhausted. 



Brian Harrison Nelson, Big Chief - Amy Loewy, 2013

This year on St. Joseph's Day, Brian Harrison Nelson, Big Chief of The Guardians of the Flame (who is one of my neighbors) "came out the door" for the residents of Blue Plate Artist Lofts.   The Guardians of the Flame continue to mask in a tradition that rivals a spiritual utopia.  As a performing group, the Guardians of the Flame have attended the biggest pow-wow in North American, the Gathering of Nations. In 1993, the group was the pow-wow's first Mardi Gras Indian guests. The Guardians have also traveled to Miami, New Mexico, and Texas. In 1993, fourteen performers, ages 5 to 60, graced the stage at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.


St. Joseph's Day - Amy Loewy, 2013

As far as the Mardi Gras Indians go...this my friend is the tip of the iceberg.  Y'all need to be here to be amazed and awed by the incredible art, music, and tradition of the Mardi Gras Indians.

 Compliments of Big Chief Brian Harrison Nelson

 

 

From Wikipedia:
[1] Smith, Michael, and Alan Govenar. Mardi Gras Indians. Gretna: Pelican Pub. Co. 1994. Print.
[2] Flint, Timothy. Recollections of the Last Ten Years. Boston: Cummings, Hilliard, and Company, 1826.
[3] Bragg, Rick. "Another Battle of New Orleans: Mardi Gras," New York Times (Feb. 19, 1995).
[4] Moser, Margaret. "My Gang Don't Bow Down: Mardi Gras Indian Chief Kevin Goodman leads his tribe to Texas," Austin Chronicle (May 5, 2006).
[5] Gaudet, Marcia, and James McDonald. Mardi Gras, gumbo, and zydeco: Readings in Louisiana Culture. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi. 2003. Print.
[6] Salaam, Kalamu. “He’s the Prettiest”: A Tribute to Big Chief Allison “Tootie” Montana’s 50 years of Mardi Gras Indian Suiting. New Orleans: New Orleans Museum of Art. 1997. Print.
[7] Baum, Dan. Nine Lives. Spiegal Paperbacks. New York: 2010. Print.

All Because It's Carnival Time



Commander's Palace

The Sunday prior to Mardi Gras Day is known as Bacchus Sunday, for some.  As you might guess, this is the day the Bacchus Parade rolls.  It is also however, the day the Krewe of Drunken Whores don their chemise, bloomer and corsets and does what we lovingly call the Commanders Strut.  This is our third year in existence and also the third year we've second lined through all of Commander's Palaces dining rooms, courtyard and kitchen following the jazz band.  Here's  a picture of us in the courtyard afterward, courtesy of Kimberly Edwards.

 







Krewe of DrunkenWhores 2013 by Kimberly Edwards





Mardi Gras Day began...early and then became a series of wardrobe malfunctions until I was out the door at about 6:10AM.  That's right folks, my beloved Pete Fountain has been leaving earlier and earlier these last few years, so disregard the online listing that says he leaves at 7:45AM.

I had my alternate costume for the day ready...my original costume involved a large amount of cardboard and with impending rain, I would have been clearly close to dressing as Lady Godiva.

90% dressed and hooking a silk corset that is yet to be worn...one of the stainless steel hooks sliced my finger and there was blood all over the corset and my white chemise.  I began ripping clothes off and grabbing everything gold I could find to go with my gold cape.



I rushed out the door to find a parking spot on the "home" side or lake side of St. Charles Avenue. I found one on 6th and Baronne and proceeded to fast walk to Washington Avenue and Commanders Palace Restaurant. On the way I ran into four frat boys all of which had clearly been out all night.  They applauded me for costuming and proceeded to follow me down St. Charles Avenue singing American Pie"...I sang along.  My fast walk had me arriving at Washington Avenue right around 6:30AM.  I could hear the pastor giving the blessing as I raced the two blocks down Washington.  No pictures, no hanging and waiting for Pete, no music to tease my sister in Michigan with, they were starting the parade. 

Pete Fountain and the Half-Fast Walking Club have been parading starting from Commanders Palace Restaurant for 52 years, since 1961 (he missed 2006 due to illness). Most of those years Pete and his friends in the Half-Fast Walking Club march into town, playing as they went and scattering doubloons.  Yesterday they were scattering more than doubloons, and I ended up with so many beads I could hardly walk.  I acquired the most incredible throw that I ever gotten...a metal enamelled medallion from Pete Fountain and the Half-Fast Walking Club.

 

Roberta (my cohort) and I met at St. Charles Avenue and Washington Avenue...she had made a sign that read "Fast Women Heart Half-Fast Men."  Believe me when I tell you every man in the walking club wanted his picture made with one or both of us and this sign.

After wandering with Pete and the guys for awhile we headed back Uptown to fill our belly's and meet up with my neighbors Rick and Jamie.  We hung out with them watching Rex at St. Charles (lake side) and Sixth Street.  There were lovely people there that kept giving Rick and Jamie bags of beads since the are Mardi Gras virgins.  Some sweet children with their parents AND some unusually rude women. 

 

A few times the Rex Parade was stopped with a float directly in front of us (because the parade before it had broken down, yet again). The rude women kept jumping and grabbing throws meant for the kids and when the guys on the float stopped throwing in that direction one woman flipped them the bird.  Seriously, parades are for the kids...there is nothing they are throwing that any adult needs.  The guys on the float had the kids come to the side of the float and they handed them treasures. 

 

Then the weirdest incident involving these women occurred...one of the women had her daschund in a baby stroller and walked off.  Her friend then denied she knew her and was looking to me to tell her what to do with the dog.  I just told her "Y'all are hanging out together...I have no idea who either of you are."  About five minutes later the first woman showed up and rummaged around the basket under the stroller containing her dog and pulled out a glass doornob and stated "This is the key to my house!" and walked off again.   People if this isn't weird enough, it was just the doornob itself, no connecting rod - which means that the connecting rod is hanging out her front door for anyone who cares to twist it and enter her domain. 

 

Not long after that the parade stopped it began to rain...and I was on my way to my car.  Not before getting pretty wet and cold.  But it was a great Mardi Gras and I love this city, unusual people and all.

Speedee Mike

I had a strange experience recently....  The Wednesday before Thanksgiving I went to Speedee Oil Change, to of course, get my oil changed.  While I was there they were going to do a few other things as well, so I was waiting inside with a book.  A man came in and we had a nice 20 minute conversation.  Before he left he asked for my number and I gave it to him.  After this conversation, I knew his first name, approximately where he lived, he works in the hospitality industry, works two jobs and was working both jobs on Thanksgiving.  He knows my first name, that I live at Blue Plate Artist Lofts, and that I work at Garden District Book Shop.

Later Wednesday he texted me and thanked me for the pleasant conversation.  Thursday he texted, Happy Thanksgiving,  Then I didn't hear from him again until Sunday at 1:30PM, when he left me a message:

1. Apologizing for not calling me sooner.
2. Inviting me an party at 4PM, Sunday.
3. His MOTHER'S birthday party at a hotel!

My first reaction was, NO freakin way am I going anywhere on 31/2 hours notice.  And there is no way in hell I'm going to your mothers birthday party, we haven't even been on a date or even spoken for more than 20 minutes. Oh and go to a hotel?  Not in this lifetime.

He was at work when he left the message, so I politely texted him:  "Thank you for the invitation, but I'm busy today."  His response, "OK."

As I explained this to my coworkers: Ted and Susie, I elucidated, that I didn't even know his last name, so he is listed in my phone as Mike Speedee.  Yet, he wanted me to meet his mother.  They both agreed, that what I should be calling him is Speedee Mike.  A number of friends have theories about what his issue may be...so y'all pick the alternate ending.

1. He wants to poison me and taxidermy me to sit on the couch next to him forever and ever.
2. He wants to introduce me to his mother as his future wife...
3. He wants to lure me to a hotel and have his way with me...

Needless to say, I haven't heard from him since.

Further proving that every man I've met in this city is either: married, gay, or crazy (of the religious zealotry kind), and sometimes, all three.  The first two traits: married and gay are not bad traits in a man, if he's just looking for friendship.  The third and all three together, can be kicked to the curb.

Meanwhile, I'm still available for dinner.

Found Writing...

Finally finishing up the boxes in the apartment.  I found a few short things I wrote which I really like.  So I'm sharing:

#1

A lonely woman walked quietly along the road.  Holding her thoughts, wishes, and experiences in a beautiful bowl upon her head.  Careful not to spill them along the way.

Changes occurring daily to her body and soul...  Always carefully securing them into the bowl.

Along her road, she meets someone, they raise their hands in friendship.  She tips her bowl, a rainbow spills forth.

#2

Often in the pool of life,
The beauty of flowers goes unnoticed.
Natures can be unforgiving,
Allow beauty to escape your lips.

Live Your Legacy...

My friend, Sara Roahen's mom passed recently and the remembrance that Sara posted online was a heartfelt, tear-inducing tribute to a wonderful person.  So incredibly sad that another wonderful soul has been taken in their prime.  Adding to my list, my mother at 38, my brother at 19, my friend at 24, and a multitude of others.

Sara's amazing mother, made me start questioning my life.  Recently, I watched a program on television and it has stuck in my brain.  If you begin questioning where your life is going...write your obituary. 

Write the obituary you want to have lived, what you want to be remembered for, what you want people to think of when they think of you: a fabulous mother, an incredible friend, a helper of the needy, always smiling and positive, a great writer, a great photographer, a lover of  music, nature, history, a lover of life.

When you have written this incredible remembrance of you...work backward and write an action plan to get to this place. 

Nothing gets you living faster that an checklist.  Live your legacy.

Seen Any Mythological Creatures Lately...Grab a Camera!



Painting by Phil Sandusky

Working in the book shop often provides the funniest and most bizarre situations.  I've often said we could film a sitcom here...people would be constantly entertained.



Telephone Customer:  (After she asked about books in which the titles escaped her.)  How come there are so many festivals in this city? 

Me:  People that live here like to eat good food and listen to music.  They give the tourists a taste of New Orleans, and they help support local businesses.

Telephone Customer:  Don't they know they're creating a taxi shortage!  I don't know if you know there's a taxi shortage in in this city.

My Thoughts: I prefer that people drinking alcohol at the festivals ride home in a taxi and not be on the road when I am.

 

Pre-Hurricane Katrina he book shop phone number was very similar to the Winn Dixie Grocery Store.  Several times a day we'd get phone calls similar to this:

Me: Garden District Book Shop

 

Telephone Customer: (Shouts) Give me the meat department!

 

Me: Sir, this is a book shop.

 

Telephone Customer: This is Winn Dixie's number, give me the meat department!

 

Me: Sorry sir, this is still a book shop.

 

My Thoughts:  It's was always a male...sorry guys.

 

 

There is a Garden District Tour that leaves from the book shop twice a day, every day.  (For those of you unfamiliar with New Orleans, the Garden District is a very well-to-do neighborhood with incredible architecture.  Anne Rice, Sandra Bullock, John Goodman, Archie Manning, Nicholas Cage have all owned or currently own houses in this neighborhood.)



 

Customer: I'd like to buy tickets to the Garden District Tour?

 

Me:  There are no tickets, you just pay the Tour Guide.  You meet them in the back corner of the book shop (I pointed directly where they need to go.) five minutes before the tour begins.

 

Here are a few alternate endings to this conversation:

 

Customer:  Where's the book shop?  (This is after they walked under our sign and are standing among hundreds of books.)

 

Alternate Ending:

 

Customer:  Do I have to go outside to get there?

 

Alternate Ending:

 

Customer: So I wait outside?

 

My Thoughts:  I generally give tour instructions slowly to try to get them to listen...they never do.

 

 

 

 

Every Tuesday afternoon for about a month, a guy called and asked us to look up various sex books.  He never ordered anything.

My Thoughts:  I don't want to know what was going on at the other end of the phone...

 

 

 

Telephone Customer: I placed a special order and I'd like to check whether it has come in. She indicated that she placed an order for a Pocket Guide to Thailand and under the name D-W-E-E-B. (She spelled the name and never pronounced it.)  The employee searched for the order and could find nothing listed with that name. I began to help her search and searched the special order database for anything with Thailand in the title. A special order was displayed that had been placed two days before, on a Saturday. The special order was under a totally different name, Blaster.

Book Shop Employee: Excuse me, but this order is under a different name, B-L-A-S-T-E-R.

 

Telephone Customer: …oh yes, that’s one of my names.

 

My Thoughts:  And we would know you have multiple bizarre names, how?  Let alone that the order was placed on a Saturday and it was the following Monday.   There does need to be a business day in the mix to actually have UPS delivery. 

 

 

The New Orleans Saints are played in the Superbowl, 2010:

Co-Worker: I have absolutely loved explaining to customers today that the reason the streetcar isn't running is because there is a parade of men wearing dresses to honor a deceased sportscaster.

I told him I’d be willing to work, so I could tell them.

  

The sportscaster, Buddy D passed the previous year. Buddy always said if the Saints went to the Superbowl, he’d wear a dress. He even had one hanging in his office for that sole purpose.
 

 We had a customer who could not read James Patterson hard covers, as the paper and ink made her hands itch   Seriously...



 

Telephone Customer:  I would like you to get me a signed copy of Kate Chopin's Awakening and I'd like her to sign it to my father.

 

Me: Kate Chopin is dead...  Died in 1904.

 

Telephone Customer: Handle it and then send it to my father. 

 

 



 

This is far too funny not to share...  My boss' name is Britton Trice.  Everyday when we receive the mail or take telephone calls -  his name is butchered in every imaginable way:  Tritton Brice, Brighton Rice to name a few.  But a few years ago he received a check in the mail from someone local, who's known him for years and the check was made out to "Bitten Twice." 

 

This is hysterical on so many levels...our shop is where Anne Rice used to sign books when she lived in New Orleans and then the whole New Orleans Vampire scene.  We have given serious thought to getting him a tshirt with this on it. 

 

Meanwhile the local check writer is swearing off spell check.

 



 

And one of my favorites:

Me: Garden District Book Shop

Telephone Customer: I'd like a photograph book of mythological creatures?


My Thoughts:  Hmmm...they're mythological!

Pardon Me, I Didn't Hear You

I lost the hearing in my left ear at 19. This resulted from the antibiotics given to me for bacterial meningitis, and that story is a whole other blog.

My discovery occurred, the day I came home from the hospital (for the first time) when trying to make a phone call with the phone to my left ear. I insisted the the telephone was broken. It was a very rude awakening.

But, today I want to write about the interesting things I've learned since losing my hearing.

• Never answer yes to anything you don't hear. At 19, you are young and silly, seriously, and you do many bizarre things when you can't hear with both ears. I cannot tell you how many times I did this before the realization sunk in that this was not a good idea. But after many lewd proposals, I stopped.
  • Don't be embarrassed to tell people you cannot hear them. Make a joke of this...if people are rude, they're either really uncomfortable about your hearing lose or not really your friends.
   
  

  
  
• It's impossible to ride a bike with someone riding next to you or with cars passing close to you. You'll fall over, you have NO balance. If someone comes up behind you and shouts that they are there, you'll have no idea exactly where that might be. I had huge mirrors on my bike and only rode early in the morning, but it became so stressful making sure I wasn't cutting someone off or pulling into traffic - I sold my bike.
  • Walking is wonderfully enjoyable.
  
  

  
  
• In a group situation always sit at the end of the table facing everyone (preferably with your back against a wall, so the sound bounces off the wall), you can then see when someone is speaking and focus on them.
  • Most of my friends know that this is not something I enjoy. So large group restaurant/bar events are kept at a minimum.
   
  

  
  
• You cannot go to loud enclosed concerts, as you are at risk of losing the remainder of your hearing.
  • But New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, French Quarter Fest, Wednesday's at the Square, Second Lines, and much more - the plethora of outdoor music in New Orleans is fabulous and beyond compare. If you go to a bar to listen to music, sit as far as possible from speaker, preferably near the door.
  
  
• You never know which direction a siren is coming from.
  • Use your eyes instead of your ears.
  
  

  
  
• When you're tired you walk too close to walls on your deaf side.
  
  • Bruises heal.
    

• Reading lips is exhausting. 90% of lipreading is body language and context. A lot of words look similar (e.g. pig/big, hand/sand/stand, black/bland/blunt, cat/can). Men are harder to lipread than woman, because most men use little body language and minimal lip movement. If the man has a mustache, it's near impossible - especially a bushy mustache. You notice EVERYONE's teeth.
  • Know that when you go off to a corner searching for quiet...it's time to leave.
  
  

  
  
• Loud noises and commotion will make you insane.
  • Know this and try to get out of these situations.
  
  
  
• Be prepared for lack of understanding and (unfortunately) sometimes, stupidity:
   





 


 
• People talking with no sound coming out (in my experience it's always men).
• People pretending to do sign language.
• People covering their mouths when they realize you're reading their lips or alternately covering their mouths and speaking.
• Whispering in the deaf ear.
My niece, Jillian, used to tell me secrets...they were always in my deaf ear.  I'd laugh and tell her they were secret from everyone.  So I had my deaf ear double-pierced, then Jillian would come to tell me a secret and she would see two earrings and know there was no hearing.  Then she'd come around to my other ear.
• Standing behind shelves or in another room and calling you (when you're deaf in one ear you have no sense of direction.)  Unless you can see the person, you have no idea where they are located.

• Loud throbbing bass in cars to the front, back, or side of you will make you dizzy.  Don't know the science of this...but it's happened to me many times.  Roll your windows up and plug your good ear, and move away when you can.

• Surround sound and headphones are useless...you only hear in mono.

But ultimately, there are many things that have occurred because of my deafness that outweigh the fact that I cannot hear correctly.

My other senses are sharper:

• Colors are brighter

• Music is sweeter

Lucia Micarelli (aka. Annie T) and John Boutte

• Smiling faces are amazingly beautiful

 

• Laughter is musically wonderful

This will make you happy for the rest of the day...bet you watch it multiple times!

• Clouds are stunning

• Sign Language is understanding in motion.

• Beauty surrounds you, daily.  Don't miss it...