More Mardi Gras musings

So after a violent two-day encounter with the stomach flu, I tried to make it out last night to see the Muses parade (note to the uninitiated -- Muses is the best of Mardi Gras parades, and not only because it comprises all-female krewes), but I fear I tried to mainstream myself a bit prematurely. Talking about your own private trip to Planet Sick (heavy emphasis on the "ick") to people who are not unwell and who are trying to watch a parade going past is a little like...well, a little like the Louisiana and Mississippi trying to get the rest of the country interested in their insurance problems with the Oscars coming up. As kind and compassionate as your listeners may try to be, NO one -- with the possible exception of your mother -- wants to focus on the minutae of bad plumbing while the bright lights and sequins are flashing past. (Some people will, however, bring you soup and saltines on their way to the parade, for which you will feel a depth of gratitude that takes you by surprise.)

It's a real pickle trying to figure out how to talk to people about how this thing really flattened you out there for a while, but that it's better now -- really, no need to stand back!

So far it doesn't seem to be working.