When my two daughters were in HS, they were in the band. They came home one evening and said the band was going to march in one of the Mardi Gras parades next spring. Not going to New Orleans without your Momma and me as chaperones. I’ve been there and you ain’t going without me.
At least we did not diminish their fun. Turned out to be fun for us too. Started off when the bus driver’s wife thought I was Tom Selleck. Wil told her no, but I agreed with her.
During the parade Johnny Wells and I walked the route with the band, it was a wonder we did not get arrested. Drunk idiots would step off the sidewalk and try to feel up the little girls. That was when Johnny and I would clean their clock and leave them in the road as the band marched on.
It was a six-mile parade so the kids had those skin-covered water jugs they could keep around their neck and squeeze a drink once in a while. One kid decided to put vodka in his pouch, I think he was a horn player, by the end of the parade he was marching to his own drummer, high stepping he looked like he was in one of those New Orleans funeral processions with all the jazz players walking behind the dearly beloved deceased. When we arrived at the Super Dome, I walked beside him and kept him away from the band director until he sobered up.
It was not all marching and blisters, the kids were given 5-6 hours to go anywhere in NO they wanted. Two or three boys or girls were assigned a chaperone we went where they wanted. I had two pretty good young men one of which was named Trey. We walked all over the French Quarter and he noticed a commotion ahead of us about a half of block and ran ahead to see what was up.
On a balcony 1 floor above the street big-busted red head with a bouffant hair doo was putting on a show for the tourists. Ole Trey had his camera and snapping shot after shot. Red could make those tassels go multi-direction all at the same time. I mean bouncy-bouncy. Trey just snapping away. About that time the show was over and Red removed the wig, then reached around behind her back and removed the big bust, tassels and all. Turned out it was a skinny white boy with no shirt and lots of lip-stick and eye makeup.
Trey went to gagging. I thought he was going to barf all over Bourbon Street. The other young man and I kept him from exposing all that film, I told him he might want to see it again. He said no, not ever.