Mardi Gras

There were a couple of folks at work giving out beads for Mardi Gras. Late in the day it was the executive director, who happens to be named Marty. It’s short for Martha. Although I guess thinking about it, it’s not short for Martha, since it’s exactly the same length and number of syllables. I guess I need to say that it’s the diminutive form of Martha.

Anyway, as she gave me the beads, I was thinking how her name sounds similar to Mardi. So I told her that, in her honor, we were spelling the name of the day with a T instead of a D, making it Marty Gras rather than Mardi Gras.

And as soon as I said it I realized my grave error. As did she, but luckily she thought it was very funny.

In other news, my dashing young protege Kate is a little down today. She traditionally spends Mardi Gras in New Orleans. She apparently had written an argumentative paper for a freshman comp assignment, arguing that the university should schedule spring break during Mardi Gras. And then she actually sent the paper to the school administration for their consideration. And during her senior year, spring break was scheduled the same week as Mardi Gras, and so she went to New Orleans.

This year, what with Katrina, and what I gather might be personal budget reasons, she did not go to New Orleans. She plans to spend the evening at the bar Lulu’s Mardi Gras, which is just a couple blocks down the street from us, and then head to Arlington to view the Clarendon Mardi Gras parade. But, she says, not the same.

I used to go to Lulu’s for swing dancing. I think Tom and Debra used to be there. There was a bartender named Dan, whom we used to tip utterly lavishly for the first few drinks, and then he’d start comping us. Dan and his wife took some sort of personal interest in and care of a bartender there, a young woman who had been a stripper named Tawana at Archibalds.

I ask Kate if she’s going to be dragging her sorry ass in to work late on Wednesday, but she says that she won’t be out that late.