No Rain on This Mardi Gras Parade

It’s all about the beads, baby. That’s what Dorian Rush said, woo-hooing and waving and jumping up and down to get the attention of costumed bead throwers Saturday night at the bawdy Krewe du Vieux parade, an event that unofficially kicked off this year’s Mardi Gras season.

“Those are giant beads; look at those!” Rush said when someone threw her a long strand of jumbo plastic pearls. A man dressed as a giant chocolate bar caught her eye. “Ooh! He has some sparkly ones. Throw me something, mister!”

More than five months after Hurricane Katrina, the annual party that defines New Orleans goes on. Although some grumbled that this broken town had more serious matters to attend to, many residents said it was the first time in months that their lives had returned to something approaching normal -- even if it was only a temporary reprieve.

“Eight of my closest friends have lost homes. Four aren’t coming back. It’s all you can do to get through each day without losing your mind,” said Keith G.C. Twitchell, the “pooh-bah of publicity” for Krewe du Vieux. “We’ve all been so caught up with rebuilding our lives, we’ve almost forgotten what our lives were like.

“We need a break to forget and to remember.”

Jim Kavanaugh, 62, was hunched against the cold night wind as he waited for the parade to pass. “Mardi Gras is a business for New Orleans,” he said. “If we don’t have it, this city is dead.”

Though the official Mardi Gras parade season begins next weekend, locals had been hoping that Saturday’s events would offer a preview of what the city desperately needed: a successful party that would bring a much-needed boost to the local economy.

The parade tradition began in 1838. For years, the festivities have included 60 or more parades that stretch over a nearly two-week period; tractors pull enormous and wildly decorated floats along eight different routes across the city.

This year, the parade schedule -- as well as the revelry that surrounds it -- is truncated. Forty parades are expected over eight days along four routes.

City officials said the cuts were made to limit the need for city services such as security and trash cleanup, particularly at a time when staffing and city coffers are low.

At least two-thirds of the population has not returned to New Orleans since the levees failed and large swaths of town were flooded.

Many basic city services are being paid for by federal funds that are scheduled to dry up this spring.

For the first time, the city is wooing corporate sponsors to help shoulder the estimated $4.6 million it costs for police overtime and other city services. One company has already signed up: the maker of Glad trash bags, which has promised to pay an undisclosed six-figure fee and donate cleaning supplies.

“We need this to be a good year,” said Larry Lovell, spokesman for the New Orleans Tourism Marketing Corp. “We need people to come here, bring their wallets and rediscover our city.”

Mardi Gras has routinely drawn more than 1 million people, and traditionally has brought about $1 billion into the local economy, Lovell said. But where potential partygoers will sleep remains one of the city’s biggest hurdles. Most hotels are still packed with recovery workers and evacuated families, tourism experts say.

“Before Katrina, the city had 38,000 hotel rooms. Now there are about 25,000 in the inventory,” Lovell said. “We know people are staying up in Baton Rouge and even further away. We’re expecting that it’s going to be well-attended, but obviously it will not be what we’ve had in the past.”

Hoping to put on the best possible face, locals spent much of the last week rushing to beautify the French Quarter.

The air was fragrant with fresh paint and flowers. Gardeners stumbled up cobblestone streets lugging pots of lush ferns and delicate red blooms. Workers scrambled up scaffolding, replacing panes of glass and toting buckets of teal and peach paint.

On Saturday, hundreds turned out see what the irreverent Krewe du Vieux and 17 “sub-krewes” had come up with this year. Satirical humor has been embraced by krewes in the past, but Hurricane Katrina presented an especially rich, and twisted, opportunity to poke fun.

Up and down the 2 1/2 -mile parade route, spectators hooted and pointed as the wild, often R-rated floats passed with themes such as “Comatose Corps of Engineers,” “C’est Levee!” and “A Day at the Breach.” The float reserved for the parade’s pretend grand marshal, former Federal Emergency Management Agency director Michael D. Brown, was unadorned except for high-water marks and signs that explained: “FEMA says decorations on the way.”

Two women cackled as they read the signs aloud and sipped from to-go cups of beer. “This is what we do in New Orleans: We laugh at our problems,” Catherine Kreger said. “I think it would be depressing not to have Mardi Gras.”

Eileen Murray, Kreger’s sister, agreed. “We need to stop thinking about things that don’t work in our houses anymore because of Katrina,” she said. Someone threw her a tiny sandbag. “See what I mean?” she said, pocketing it with a laugh.

At this point, it’s better to laugh than cry, Twitchell said.

After all, it’s impossible to ignore signs of devastation.

Dozens of buildings are boarded up along Canal Street, where looters smashed windows and fought as floodwaters rose.

In the French Quarter, scores of “for rent” and “help wanted” signs are posted as landlords and retailers scramble to stay economically afloat.

Outside Brennan’s Restaurant, a banner reads that the eatery “will just keep rolling along ... as soon as possible.”

“It’s supposed to reopen in April,” one construction worker said. “But these days you can’t count on anyone making deadlines.”

Restaurateurs across the city say they’re anxiously waiting for the phones to ring with hungry customers and hoping they have enough staff on hand to handle the crowd.

At the Court of Two Sisters, weekday business has fallen by half and weekend business by 75%, said Michelle Fein Morantez, the restaurant’s marketing director. Much of the staff has not returned.

“We’ve just started to get calls for Mardi Gras, and normally we’d be full,” Morantez said. “Right now, though, we’re just happy we’re getting calls at all. We’re all keeping our fingers crossed.”