To Attendees of a Mardi Gras Parade in New Orleans, an Open Letter from a Person on a Float

Asian immigrant family who obviously had no idea what Mardi Gras was several days ago and who are now regarding the event with surprise and uncertainty from the 2nd story balcony of a low-rent apartment,

I hope with all my heart that you will accept this, my flinging bags of beads to your darling children, as a welcoming gesture. If I could give you one piece of advice to help you find your way in this great land, it would be, “move the twins out from in front of the French doors; they will attract increasingly heavy throw items as the parade progresses.”

I. Asian-immigrant-father,

No, I know that you are not gesturing for beads. In fact, I know that you didn’t ask for any of this, and I must say, sadly, you are likely correct in your suspicion that you will not escape this without suffering at least some mild property damage--it is better to learn this hard fact now as decoration of your ornamental pear begins with beads than later when it is being finished with urine. Also, I appreciate your tactful reflex smile and quick wave.

II. Asian-immigrant grandmother or older aunt who has begun gesturing for beads as if necessary for continued respiration,

Welcome to this great land. I know that you will make it yours, please ask Asian-immigrant father to forgive us for the property damage.

“16+ to adult” independent dance team marching to 80s pop while performing overtly sexual dance routines,

Hello, yes. Please understand that I really have no option but to watch you perform while the parade is stalled. I am on the back of the float. I cannot not look at the unfortunate people on the ground who I have determined must not receive any more beads from my hand until forwards movement resumes. If I look while they are asking, I have to throw--even if I’ve already thrown to them. It’s some sort of social contract. The Asian-immigrant grandmother—bless her—doesn’t even know about this contract yet, and so here specifically, I am responsible for both ends of the contract. I hope this is not going to be awkward. Please remember that I did not choreograph these. At the very least, I’m glad we’ve established this channel for communication; I have the feeling that though this is the first, it is far from the last chorus of “Push It” that we will listen to together in the coming hours. As an aside, adult members of dance squad: what is this? What are we doing here?

Person with “It’s my/his/her birthday!” sign near the parade route,

I would like to first wish you a Happy Birthday. Second, birthday person, I would like to let you know that I do not much celebrate my own birthday. I know that must sound an attack, but I’ve included it only to familiarize you with my own perspective before I explain. A fact that I have known since the days of my earliest education has only reached full flower in my mind in the last thirty minutes: there are only three-hundred and sixty-six days on which one may have a birthday. Assuming for a moment a universe in which conceptions and births are on a schedule optimized to produce the greatest variation with respect to birthdays (i.e. truly random and arbitrary assignment of a birthday to each individual) as the crowd size nears 366 the probability approaches 1 that someone in the crowd is having a birthday. How many sets of 366 people would you estimate compose this crowd?

I offer you this knowledge in lieu of beads.

Nun watching from behind lines of people holding DSLRs with expensive lenses,

What is your deal? Have we done something wrong or right? I apologize for being defensive. I hope you understand.

Guy that has absolutely no angle to play whatsoever and is just half-assedly shrugging for beads (but not in an asshole way),

Please enjoy the meager array of beads I offered you. Look, I sympathize but when it comes down to it, I cannot award you any creativity points. I am the judge; it is expected that I will be unsatisfied with such attempts. However, if this was a high-five parade you’d be racking them up.

Family of four including teen girl and pre-adolescent boy all dancing together,

I know that whatever I could hope to offer in beads pales in comparison to the well-adjusted happiness you must enjoy together, but I hope that you will accept these baubles anyway. Please write a book; I bet you are of the stock that enjoy the challenge of hard work.

Young woman who blew me a kiss after I missed you twice with beads,

Shhh. don’t say another word. I felt it too. I won’t say that I am a “man of means”, but I am a capable and loving man. In our coming life together, I know that we will find a way to make it work.

Seemingly unsupervised cliquish 10th graders drinking and conspicuously ignoring the parade from a talking circle in the back of truck,

I know that you did not want those beads. Staring at me like that is not going to make it stop, and even 10 times that much forest-camo will not hide you in such a biome as this.

Obese woman whose voice and jowls trembled with incredulity after failing to reap rewards for baring her breasts; assorted mounds and folds of similar size,

If you incredulity was genuine, ma'am, know it is not the “mere act” of bearing the breast that here is being celebrated.

Guy that had just had major facial surgery,

I am so so sorry. I didn’t mean to recoil. I’m sorry no one is standing beside you. Have all of my beads.

College age male on the shoulders of other college age male to reach to my eye level on the float, who is now within 12 horizontal inches of my face and is seemingly too uncomfortable to speak,

What is it? By all means, have your say. Good God, tell us. Why all the urgency? Please don’t say it was beads. Sign would have worked for beads. I was expecting something heavy, “It’s bros, bros all the way down.”

Toy breed dog dressed in mardi gras costume being carried around like a child for beads,

I’m sorry. I’ve thought for hours now, and can’t figure out where it all went wrong.