"It's the little things that make life such a big deal."
--Timbuk 3, "The Little Things"
First off, I want to thank hairylarry for pimpin' my joint yesterday (that doesn't sound right). It was more than unexpected. In fact, I saw his diary while scanning the Recent list to make sure there were no really tragic or earth-shattering stories up before posting this. Bad form to bust into a memorial or breaking screamer with such a small concern.
For those who were wondering what the hell that video was about, here's the backstory.
There's no getting around it. We're a bit odd down here. Football's a religion, politics a sport and misrule is the law of the land one day a year.
It has been thus since 1872, when a group of the city's grandees declared an official day of misrule to celebrate the Lenten Carnival in honor of the visiting Grand Duke Alexi Romanoff. (Yeah, yeah, Carnival's a damn sight older than that, even "official" New Orleans Carnival, first celebrated by the Mystick Krewe of Comus in 1857).
You see, when you live in a place surrounded by boundless water and swamps filled with untold hungry critters, where every summer brings a new onslaught of invisible killing fevers, where, in short, death is not "someday off in the future" eventuality but a "see you next week--or not" companion, the futility of men's laws is pretty obvious, and setting aside a day to flaunt them seems only natural. Thus, every year, Rex, the King of Carnival, proclaims Shrove Tuesday as a day when all the rules are void, and mockery and jest are the watchwords.
Ah, but what happens when the the Lord of Misrule becomes the Establishment?
"Well, it's a god-given law
That you're gonna get small,
Yes, you're gonna get small."
--Devo, "Shrivel Up"
Three years ago, a small group of artists, writers, designers and general fun-lovers banded together to start a new, small Carnival krewe (very common occurrence, btw).
How small? Really, really small. It was to be a walking krewe, with floats based on the shoebox creations members recalled from elementary school projects emulating the elaborate parade floats of the big krewes. Thus was born the Krewe of 'tit Rex.
(Stow those prurient thoughts. "'tit" is a common abbreviation of "petit." Love the française, don'tcha know.)
In a few short years, the krewe has won the hearts of the upper Ninth Ward with its clever floats and teeny tiny parade throws.
Sadly, a, er, little problem's come up.
As reported in Monday's Times-Pic, the venerable Rex organization has sent a letter to the officers of 'tit Rex, demanding that the krewe cease and desist using their name, claiming that continued use would dilute the power of the King of Carnival's brand.
That's right. The city's second-oldest Carnival society, 139 years strong, the king of Mardi Gras, is afraid that a couple dozen Ninth Ward stumblers pulling shoeboxes on roller skates are going to be confused with the premier parading organization of New Orleans. Yes, really.
Reineman: And are the local yokels making with those David and Goliath wisecracks!
Potter: Oh, they are, are they? Even though they know the Baileys haven't made a dime out of it.
--Frank Capra, "It's a Wonderful Life"
The story, as you might imagine, has got legs (possibly even wheels and Christmas lights). WDSU did a piece on Tuesday's evening news and the interwebs are ablaze. With the modern journalistic method of read-and-rehash, I expect the likes of the New York Times and NPR to roll with it any day now.
As a lot of these guys are my friends, and I find 'tit Rex and all its aspects and attributes simply freaking adorable, I felt moved to post a song in solidarity with the krewe as it faces down the biggest, baddest Carnival krewe of them all. It's a bit slapdash and appropriately home made, but the good wishes are sincere.
Without further ado, ladies and gentleman, The Little Peoples Parade:
I do hope it brings a little smile.