So there we were, parading down Decatour street from Jackson Square with our police escort and a hundred random followers…..
Isn't that how most of your weekends start off? I know mine do. Well, now they do. Well, not anymore but they did once. And it was awesome.This post may be long but it will be educational for anyone who ever wants to have a parade in the city of New Orleans or simply wants to hear how a crazy idea came to life.
A year ago, I was watching Mike blow out his 39 candles and thought that I would get him a refurbished 1920's Ford truck. (Yes, he is awesome enough to deserve it)After calling Counts Customs I realized that this would take over two years to complete. I was a bit upset and in a hormonally fueled moment of channel surfing while heavily pregnant I heard some guy say that he got his brother on a Mardi Gras float for his birthday and how it would have been cheaper to just get him his own parade. Tah-dah! And so the idea was born. Now the only problem was the "How the heck do I pull that off?" question that might detract most reasonable people from going any further. Luckily, no such person lives in this brain. And having lived long enough in New Orleans, I know that everything and anything is possible in that town. I put the idea on the back burner for a month in order to have my adorable baby boy, Nico and to celebrate Christmas but I was ready to roll come January 1st.
So, how do I get a parade started? I had been to hundreds of Mardi Gras parades and knew one thing was for certain and that was that police were always involved. I know this because several of them would tell me things like, "Stop that!" or "You can't do that!" or "Get away from that!" But they were also the nicest guys who would not act at all surprised when I would ask stuff like, "Hey Mister, Can we take a picture in your handcuffs with you arresting us?" or "Can I do this in front of you without you arresting me?" So I thought I would start with a nice little call to the New Orleans Police Department. And this is how it went:
NOLA 911: What is your emergency?
Me: Yeah. Hi. I wanna have a parade for my husband.
NOLA 911: Let me transfer you to that department.
Yes people. In the wonderful city of New Orleans, in the heart of the NOLA Police Headquarters, you will find the following departments: Narcotics, Vice, Special Victims Unit and Parade Unit. I LOVE THIS TOWN! The people there were very helpful and told me that my first stop was to go to Nola One Stop and apply for a parade permit."What is your parade route?" he asked before hanging up. I hadn't really gotten that far yet and what did he mean MY parade route? I had a choice? After hanging up with my dear officer friends I realized that not only can I have a parade but I would also have my own police detail due to the number of party goers. This police force would happily shut down traffic to any place I would like to take my merry crew. I could already feel the power surging through my veins. This was about the time I felt like this could actually happen.
In order to have a parade route I needed a plan. What was the surprise and how would it end. I thought we would finish the parade wherever we could get together to eat and party. In New Orleans this leaves a thousand possibilities. So I went around seeing who was available. Then I needed to figure out the guest list. That night I asked Mike casually who we would invite to our wedding if we were to do it all over again. He rambled off his list which I immediately wrote down and as fortune would have it, only our favorite restaurant, Emeril's had the availability to fit our party that night. Now the parade route was a cinch. Where was a central location about a mile away we could surprise Mike at? Enter Jackson Square in front of St. Louis Cathedral.
I could barely sleep that night thinking this was going to happen. I called two people on the list and asked them if they would be able to make it. Both said, "Heck yeah!" That was enough for me. I booked the restaurant the next day. Now where would we stay and what was my excuse for taking Mike to New Orleans on his birthday weekend?
I would like to say that I did not realize how hard it is to lie to the man I love. I lied a lot, I lied often and I lied with the collusion and loving aid of his friends and family. But I never told our kids because in this house my rule for keeping a secret is what I learned from a mob boss. "If you want to keep a secret between three men, you kill two of them." So for a little less then a year I avoided thinking about this day in front of them. As they would look up at me and talk about things kids talk about I would tune them out, sometimes thinking of kittens or dancing hippos in order to not let anything slip. I only wonder what they must have gotten away with when I wasn't listening.
Mike knew I had missed yet another opportunity to antique shop in Maine and Texas because I was pregnant. I decided to tell him that a great antique show was headed to the Big Easy and if he didn't mind too much could we go on his birthday weekend. I promised him a nice dinner on his birthday night. He, being the greatest husband on earth, agreed without hesitation and never (not to my face at least) complained for the entirety of this secret. I found a lovely house in the Warehouse District with a two car garage and a yard. Having lived there for eight of 15 years I knew how extraordinary this is because mostly it is refurbished loft apartments with little to no parking. It was walking distance to the quarter and to Emeril's.
Last on my list but first on my mind for a second line parade is a jazz band. For those not familiar with a second line, it is a brass band parade in where the "first line" is made up of the actual band and people who organized the parade and the "second line" is made up of any folks who feel the need to join in and dance or twirl with those celebrating. Usually there are parasols being twirled and handkerchiefs waved as the procession moves along. I needed a great jazz band to get this party started. Let me just tell you this; musicians are musicians not suit wearing CEO's so don't expect much as far as feeling certain that an actual transaction will take place. I had three bands in mind and knew that they were, in fact, real bands. I decided to go with the Kinfolk Brass Band for a few reasons. The first was that Richard was very sweet on the phone. He told me that I was lucky to have called early because they were triple booked most days and that couples were actually deciding to get married on Monday's to have them. Secondly, I liked their website logo: The Hardest Working Brass Band in New Orleans. I like anyone who admits to working at all in that town. But even with that said, the "contract" went something like, "Send me a money order in the mail and I will write down your date and time in my book so we are set. I will see you then." That was it for the next seven months. No confirmation email, no receipt, no contract. Like I said, these men are musicians. I prayed several nights that Richard didn't lose his calendar or quit the band and run away with my money.
I found the perfect Save the Date cards and Invitations at Powerhouse Paper. Penelope was great and styled the card for a surprise birthday party just for me. The Save the Dates were out by March so everyone had ample time to plan their lies to Mike for October.
With the help of my MIL, I got these cute cards put inside the invites so as to help the out of town folks know what to do in the city where, "Everything is a good idea."
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| Good work MIL |
After a morning of sightseeing I made my poor FIL fake illness so as to convince Mike to stay behind for a bit while I headed to Jackson Square to scout a spot for us to take family pictures. In these harried 15 minutes I found my accomplices waiting to receive hankies, beads, banner and instructions on where to hide in an open square. Luckily, the place was packed with tourists.
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| I love that the Taylors wore masks. I may need a Mardi Gras party for these guys to come to. |
When Mike did show up with a miraculously improved Dave, I had them get ready for pictures and then told them that Sheila (who makes friends wherever she goes) had convinced a jazz band to stand in our picture with us. Mike and the kids may have been mortified over this so I thought I would photograph their reactions.
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| The band started to play. |
I waved my handkerchief to cue the guests . This is Mike just waiting for me to take a picture.
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| This is Mike watching a swarm of people dancing towards him with a banner of his face |
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| This is Mike watching Kirk Gomez shake it in front of him and realizing this is a surprise ambush. |
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| Rick DeVries and his wife are the equivalent of a sunny day with the top down. |
I can't tell you how amazing this experience is. When friends and family take time out of their busy lives to celebrate this man I love. People came just for the few hours of this event. One just had Mike do a spinal procedure on his back a few days earlier. Some flew in their spouses from across the country for a single day just to wish Mike a happy 40th birthday. I can't thank his parents enough for letting me do my crazy stunt with their wonderful assistance for the days leading up to this moment.
And why do this at all? The short answer is because I love him. But the long one is that I think we are all guilty of putting ourselves last. Of just going through life like little worker bees. I thought that Mike deserved to get off of his hamster wheel of self sacrifice and hard work for just a moment and really look at his life and how he has touched others and know that these 40 years have and will continue to be magical, just like this day and to know that he is loved. Don't we all deserve that? I think most people deserve a parade or at least to just second line into one every day in order to feel truly alive.
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| John Taylor and his wife Angie came in full attire. I will keep my eye on these two from now on especially since he is in the stake presidency. |
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| The Kinfolk Brass Band was all that. They were like coming home. |
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| I'm pretty sure Mike was surprised. |
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| The banner with a huge picture of Mike and his dog. |
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| Eva never stopped smiling and asked "Is this real?" |
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| The party just kept growing and beads were flying. |
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| They blocked of Canal Street and street cars for us y'all! |
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| Kirk Gomez was a hoot. He taught Golden how to get down with his hanky. |
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| Jerry Sullivan. My brother from another mother. My love runs deep for this one. |
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| The triplets couldn't have been happier. Beads umbrellas and people cheering them on. |
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| The Taylors know how to party |
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| Notice Kirk (or Bishop Gomez). This was the most serious I saw him all weekend. A blast. |
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| I was as amazed as Eva over the crowds and cheering fans. Love the Costlow's for making it here. |
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| "Throw me beads mister!" (Mike did) |
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| Jeremy was Nico's personal bodyguard. Love ya! |
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| Anthony Perry watched the dancing but never joined in. Maybe for his 40th he will give it a try! |
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| This is what a birthday boy should look like in New Orleans. |
We finished the second line in front of Emeril's Restaurant where we all got to dance and here the Kinfolk Brass band send us off with "When the Saints Go Marching In" which is also what played when both Mike and I walked down the aisle of Tulane Medical School graduations.
The menu was filled with our favorites over the years, Bbq Shrimp, Andouille Crusted Rainbow Trout, and of course, Banana Cream Pie.
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| My favorite table. DeVries, Gomez', Jerry, Solouki's |
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| Thank you Natalie Perry for sending me your husband on such a crazy time for you. Mike was in awe. |
As for the dinner, it was amazing. I don't think anyone stopped smiling and laughing. Mike leaned over to me during dinner and said, "This reminds me of our wedding." We had a small group of people there too and they were just as fun as this group. I told him how this was his "wedding renewal" party guest list and he really liked that. If this is the kinds of friends we have at 40 then bring on the next 40 years because it's going to be a fun ride.
And thank you again to the city of New Orleans, our home forever in our hearts. You never let me down and have given me countless cherished memories, friends, and even a few children. You are just like our first born son; Golden.
*Special thanks to Paul Solouki for taking several of these pics for me. I'm glad to see myself in my blog on occasion. You rock!
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