The parades roll in earnest now – every day there is something worth seeing. But it’s good to take little snapshots out of context. Last night, I was eating french fries at a bar on Magazine Street. As my companion bit into a burger, I saw behind him through the window a giant bathtub, 50 feet long and 20 feet high, pull up to a stop at the street corner. It was illuminated by flashing lights and riding on top of it were about twenty masked women who called themselves “the Bathing Muses,” throwing to adoring, screaming crowds beads, rings, plush pelicans, footballs, shoes, sunglasses, laser pointers, and tote bags. By the time he had finished chewing and swallowing his mouthful, the bathtub was gone.
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