I went over to a place yesterday that I’ve been celebrating Mardi Gras at since the early 1990’s. I was dancing on the bar thirty years ago. The same bar that I was eating my redbeans on yesterday afternoon.
I had a hard time getting my big ass up on the barstool, I sure as hell couldn’t pull off doing the Mardi Gras Mambo on the bar today.
Besides the redbeans and rice, I had some jambalaya and an order of shrimp served over grits. I had a hurricane when I sat down and another one during my meal.
Unlike the year in the late nineties when I had thirteen Shanahan hurricanes. I only had two this year.
I had to order George a cheeseburger to take home. I ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of key lime pie while I waited for my to go order to be completed.
That was it for Mardi Gras 2025.
I got home at four-fifteen in the afternoon. Handed Big George his dinner and walked back to my bedroom.
I hung my Mardi Gras beads up on the hanger in the back of my closet. This year I grabbed my boobie beads and my voodoo doll beads.
I put on some sweats and turned on the news. Four-thirty on Fat Tuesday and I’ve turned into my Oldman.
The last cocktail that I had until May 6th was a Shanahan's hurricane. My beads are hanging up until Tuesday February 17th, 2026.
Time to kick into Lent and “The Sixty Days of Cecilia.”
Today was a boring Chalkboard for a boring Ash Wednesday.
Time may change me, but I can't trace time
