I am not Jack on Fire

Which means I am also not wearing a costume made of straw. After a streak of 8 consecutive appearances in the late 80s/early 90s, I'm looking at another Shrove Tuesday in exile. Grub St. has some ideas for food and drink on this Mardi Gras day. If you are not in the NY area, you'll be able to find similar foolishness elsewhere. However, instead of going out, bear this in mind. There are exactly six kinds of people today: people who are in Mobile, New Orleans, or Rio, and those who wish they were in Mobile, New Orleans, or Rio, representing respectively JV, varsity, and all-star levels of debauchery. If you are reading this, you are not at Carnival, so take a page from my book. Any effort to simulate Carnival at some bar in New York or elsewhere will provoke boneshaking depression, so stay home, and promise yourself not to make the same mistake next year. In the meantime, to pass the time, consider clasping the yellow soles of feet / In the palms of both soiled hands.

Update: The suggestion to "pick up a king cake at Whole Foods" is exactly the kind of thing likely to provoke the crushing despair outlined above.

Comments

[PQ]

Hey now, Fesser, who drew up the coordinates on your triangle of debauchery? I will let the Italians speak for themselves when they sober up, but must mention that in Trinidad and Tobego -- birthplace of Calypso and Soca music -- Carnival is practically a national holiday. I am reliably informed that proper observance of the Trini version is a full-time commitment lasting at least two weeks...

[dubarry]

desidero che ero a venezia

[Jette]

I saw the king cakes at Whole Foods last weekend. They were an odd and unappealing shade of yellow, as though they'd been left in an alley off the parade route used by guys who didn't want to wait in the Porta-potty line, and they were caked with gobs of nasty white icing.

I will always have a spot in my heart for the minimalistic, slighty dry but tasty McKenzie king cakes.