Mardis Gras
When all else fails, get yer a$$ up and dance
Coming home from a friends’ house last night, I paused at a four-way stop in the middle of orchard territory. I was fiddling with my iPhone when something made me stop and pay attention to my surroundings. It was a profound quiet. Above me, a waxing gibbous moon was giving me a shining cockeyed glance. The citrus orchards were otherwise bathed in shadow. I was the only car on the road. It was just after 10:00 PM. On any other day, I would be met with at least one or two other cars. At that moment, though, a sense of isolation and dislocation settled in.
I let it. I made myself sit there with the unease. Next to me, our dog Ruby was curled up in her blanket. I listened to the heat whir through the vents. The window fogged. I half expected to witness something paranormal shimmy across the road, like something out of a Stephen King novel.
I shook off the spooky vibe and hit the gas.
I can’t help but think that the moment perhaps works as a metaphor for how everyone seems to be feeling these days. Everyone seems distracted, lost in their own thoughts, disconnected. Many of us are quick to temper at the barest perceived slight. Anxiety replicates like a virus across social media platforms. Restaurants are beginning see a drop off in business. Traffic on freeways often seems lighter than it should. The world feels like it’s tilting off its axis, and we all seem to be drifting through our own sense of isolation and dislocation, waiting for a bogeyman to jump out of the shadows and end the suspense.
This is why events like Mardis Gras have taken on greater importance and meaning. For a business like Rabalais’ Bistro, Mardis Gras can (and did) put them back in the black for the night. For attendees, it’s a chance to mix and mingle, indulge in some great food and drink, let loose, forget the world for a while, and yes, dance like no one’s watching.
(According to Rabalais’ staff, Mardis Gras apparently also afforded at least one woman the chance to flash her, um, mammaries at unsuspecting bystanders. That’s the first I’ve heard of such a thing in the establishment’s 12 years of hosting Mardis Gras.)
Right now, we’re seeing more businesses turn to “event nights” — trivia nights, holiday celebrations, even comedy nights at our local tiki bar — as a way to keep customers coming back. I hope it works. Event nights provide opportunities to put down our &%$#! phones, meet others face-to-face, and remember that when the world is turning upside down, sometimes it can help to know who played “Alice” on The Brady Bunch, listen to a comic work out new material, or flash your goodies in public like Instagram never existed. (Hoo boy!)
Looking ahead to St. Patrick’s Day, here’s hoping you can rustle up a few ducats to go have fun with your fellow humans. Sláinte!
