Alabama Day 1- Mardi Gras, Martin Luther King, and Making Merry
I started today by going to a Serda Coffee Company which one of the local Mobile comedians said was the best coffee place in town. I got an iced coffee and a breakfast sandwich, which came with bacon, cheese, and egg. It was delicious, there's just something about bacon down South that's so reliably better than bacon I've had in the Northeast. The coffee was nothing to scoff at either, and while I was sippin' and writin', the comedian who recommended the place actually came in to get some coffee for himself so I was able to thank him for the recommendation in person.
My first stop after breakfast was the Mobile Carnival Museum. I had no idea that any other cities besides New Orleans celebrated Mardi Gras, but, while it isn't quite as extravagant, Mobile's claim to fame is that it was actually first one in the Unite States, and the museum started with a nice introductional video about the history of Mardi Gras in the city. Mardi Gras began in the United States in 1703 with French settlers in the Mobile region celebrating Carnival before Lent. Much like New Orleans, Mobile was inhabited by French, then Spanish, and then British settlers and each group added their own cultural stamps on the Carnival celebrations.
In 1831, Michael Krafft added some Pennsylvania Swedish traditions (according to Wikipedia) to the proceedings, by getting super drunk with his friends and parading through town banging cowbells and waving around rakes. You know like they do in Sweden and Pennsylvania. Everyone decided that it was so much fun that they did it the next year and the year after, and eventually the first Mystic Society (similar to the Krewes in New Orleans), the Cowbellion de Rakin Society, was formed. Soon after that, another Mystic Society, The Strikers Independent Society, was formed from people who couldn't get into the Cowbellion society and then once people realized they could just start their own parades and get in on the fun, things really took off.
After the video laid down all the fun history behind the celebration, it was time to get into the meat and potatoes of the museum. Things started pretty big with floats from the previous years' parades. They were crazy impressive, giant and colorful, and they let you walk on one to get a feel for what they're like to be on. They're not only pretty incredible works of art, but also engineering because they have to support people being one 'em, they've gotta be able to go down the street, and they have to be able to withstand all sorts of weather without the images getting ruined.
After the floats, we got to see previous years' king and queen costumes. Every year there's a a new king and queen honored, usually an important local figure, and it's a big honor. They have their own balls before the parade and their own floats during the parade. The outfits were super ornate, usually costing 1000s of dollar, and they were pretty beautiful works of art in their own right. One of the cuter stories was that a little kid who was part of the royal party had this beautiful expensive suit made, came out with the king and queen, and immediately jumped into a mud puddle because there are somethings a kid just has to do.
Something that struck me as odd was that there was still a separate black and white king and queen. Maybe it stuck out more to me as an northerner, but nobody else on the tour asked about it and they never really mentioned it. I guess the best case scenario is that the Black Community in Mobile doesn’t mind that the courts are separate because they have history and tradition associated with their king and queen that could be its own thing that they wouldn’t want to lose, and I guess it does always guarantee diverse representation, which one king and queen wouldn't necessarily do, especially if the area really is racist. I'm not totally sure what to make of it.
My personal favorite part of the museum was the posters outlining different parade themes. Each mystic society arranges their parades around a different loose narrative or theme, and the posters artfully showcase the designs of each float while also putting them all in a much closer row together than you'd actually get at any parade. Themes that the museum showcased included stages of life, the seven wonders of the ancient world, and the seven deadly sins.
Next up came some exhibits highlighting the different Mystic Societies. Naturally this started with the group that started it all featuring cowbells and rakes from the Cowbellion De Rakin Society. Shockingly, given all the lavish outfits and floats, the tour guide said the most expensive thing in the entire museum was an unassuming carved wooden goat that had been part of the early parades. They had it appraised by an Antiques Roadshow type show, and that goat is worth a quarter of a million dollars! I can't really imagine spending that much though on anything let alone something that makes you have to explain to everyone, "No, but it's a really cool goat!"
On of the other societies they highlighted was called the Comic Cowboys, who are kinda like a campy parody of the other societies. They don't have a fancy floats but rather come out with a series of wagons with plain placards that have satirical cartoons and messages on them. They also have their own queen, Queen Little Eva, who is simply the group's burliest member in a dress. Our tour guide said they try to be equal opportunity offenders and that anything that's in the news that year is in the running to be made fun of. The group's motto though is "Without Malice" which I think is a good comedic rule of thumb.
Up next came a big hallway filled with costumes from the different Mystic Societies. Some of the outfits were pretty intricately designed, but my favorite was a fairly simple design from a group called the Stripers. Their striped uniform became a tradition after a couple of guys crashed into a police laundry truck, stole the uniforms, got drunk, and paraded about in them. Rather than get into any kind of trouble or anything for, you know stealing from the police, it just kinda became part of the celebration.
And of course, what would Mardi Gras be without music? Mobile may not have any names as big as Louie Armstrong, but they've got their own jazz tradition which the museum celebrated with a room full of outfits and instruments from some of their finest jazzmen.
Unfortunately the thing I can't quite capture from the tour was how great our guide's accent was. It was way thicker than anybody's that I'd encountered so far, and that level of accent is even better when they're saying things like "It was hotter than the hinges of hades in a heat wave" just left and right. I got a real kick out of that.
Before I left the museum, I made sure to partake in a noble Mardi Gras tradition and buy myself a moonpie. It might not have been thrown at me by anybody wearing a mask, but it was still pretty dang tasty.
After the museum, I began the four hour drive up to Birmingham where the night's open mic would be. Along the way though, I took a little side trip to make an important pilgrimage. Today was Martin Luther King Day, so I figured there was no better day to visit Selma and see the Edmund Pettus Bridge. There in 1965, Dr. King and other local activists were stopped along their 54-mile march to Montgomery by state troopers, who used tear gas and clubs and mercilessly beat the non-violent protestors in a day that has come to be known as Bloody Sunday. The violence did not deter the protesters and in fact the national outcry over the attack was a big motivator in the passing of the Voting Rights Act, one of the first big victories for the Civil Rights Movement. It was so powerful to stand there where Dr. King had stood on such a momentous occasion. I was really moved to see diverse student groups there as part of a class trip to walk along the bridge and hearing about the history, their diversity a sign of the progress that's been made since that fateful march and their interest a big sign of hope for continued progress. I'll be honest I teared up a little. I did not actually walk the length of the bridge, because I didn't want to be late for my open mic so I just went halfway and took some scenic pictures. The fact that I only walked about halfway before prioritizing something else really makes me appreciate the fiery determination it takes to even walk over 50 miles at all, let alone under fear of physical assault and death. I worry that the activists then were made of tougher stuff then we are today, but I am hopeful that that worry is unfounded. One thing is for sure though that few activists will ever be as well-spoken and powerful as MLK.
As a bit of a comedy coincidence, David Letterman's new Netflix talk show deputed a few days before I walked this bridge and in that episode, Dave goes down to Selma and walks the bridge with congressman, civil rights leader, freedom rider, all around bad ass John Lewis, who was actually among those participating in the march on Bloody Sunday. John Lewis on the day that I'm actually getting around to write this was also just named as Harvard's 2018 Commencement Speaker, so the coincidental connections between me and this moment keep accumulating. Like most coincidences, I don't think these things mean much but I do think they're interesting to note, and I do like to recommend both Letterman's new show and John Lewis in general.
In another interesting side note, the actual man Edmund Pettus, whom the bridge is named after, was a former grand dragon of the KKK. I like that nobody will probably remember that or him, but instead his bridge will likely always be remembered for the moment in history where a big blow was struck against the segregation he fought so hard for. It's good to know there is sometimes something like cosmic justice out there in the world.
After seeing the bridge, I got some dinner at a place called the Sandbar. The restaurant is right on a marina and elevated to give an incredible view out over the Alabama river. I got Catfish BLT, but I was particularly hungry so I also ordered and ate a red velvet cupcake while I was waiting. When I got my BLT, it was excellent. The catfish was broiled instead of fried giving it a lighter, softer texture, while the bacon provided some pretty satisfying crunch.
After this hearty meal, I got myself the rest of the way up to Birmingham. I stopped at a place called Octane Coffee and Bar for a little caffeine boost before the mic. It's a sleek little coffee shop in a hotel, and the coffee was real solid. I also particularly appreciated that that the barista noticed that I left my credit card with her and came out to give it to me before I got too far. That would have been rough.
The open mic was at a place called The Syndicate Lounge, and it was one of my favorite mics I've been to so far. I'm probably a little bit biased because I did pretty well (which I'll talk about in a bit), but it was also one of the nicest, funniest groups of comics I've encountered so I think I would have had a great night even I personally had bombed. I really got the sense that all the comics knew, liked, and supported one another which great to see. The space itself was also very cool, big enough to fit a pretty decent crowd but small enough to still feel intimate.
I really can't stress enough how almost uniformly good all the comics were. It felt like more of a showcase with 20 people on it than an open mic. Things started off strong with the two hosts Chris Ivey and Peter Davenport each delivering their own really tight sets. I'm not sure if they planned this, but some of the funniest jokes in each of their sets were about fatherhood. Chris had a great line about his own childhood: "I had three step dads growing up. One of them asked to become my real dad by giving mea pooka shell necklace. It was like if Jimmy Buffet directed a Kay Jeweler ad" Meanwhile, Peter did a very odd, but really funny bit about the concept of Dad Cuckolding, which despite it's name was not at all sexual but just the idea of doing really innocent good dad things with other people's kids: "of course the pinnacle of this would be walking another man's daughter down the aisle on her wedding day." Planned or purely coincidence , it was a strong way to start things off.
Some favorite lines for me:
Michael McCall - "I saw someone on the news refer to Doug Jones as Abortion Jones and the Demoncrats, which incidentally is a great band name"
Liz J. Brody- "The best way to ruin everyone else's day growing up was to have a peanut allergy"
Paige McBride- "It's weird that the people that are anti-abortion are also the people who complain about long lines at the deli. There's a solution to that, Helen!"
The single joke that made me laugh the hardest though was a very silly joke that unfortunately requires the very funny mimed gesture that accompanied it so it might not be as funny written out. I'm still going to write it though, just because I like the idea of people imagining the proper hand gestures and probably not quite doing it justice: Tobi Awe- "The pepper grinders at Olive Garden probably give the worst hand jobs"
As I alluded to earlier, my own set actually went over really well. I think this was because possibly for the first and last time so far I both got a light heckling and handled it pretty well. I think this was probably pretty lucky, since because it was unplanned it didn't have to necessarily go well. I think it also helped that neither the initial heckle nor my handling of it were mean-spirited so it was a fun shared experience rather than anything nasty, which sometimes happens in that situation. What happened was, I have a joke that usually goes "If i don't shave for a while, I'll think I look all masculine, but it just looks like I've been eating chocolate badly." I flubbed the line a little bit,and said, "If I don't shave for a couple of weeks-" at which point a guy in the front row (one of the comics' dads as it turned out) loudly blurted out "Weeks?!" visibly aghast at my level of babyfaced-ness. I then chimed in "Oh we've got a big man in the front row, has to shave everyday" leaning into the fact that he wasn't exactly wrong and weeks is a pretty long time for an adult to go without shaving unless its intentional. I tried to learn from Randy Vega, the comic I saw in Baton Rouge who handled the heckler there really well, by addressing the disruption but trying to keep things pretty light.
After the show, I hung out for a while chatting with some of the other comics which was really nice. The host Chris gave me some really good recommendations for comedy people to contact in my travels. I also liked getting to geek out about muppets and comic books with Liz Brody and another very comic named Michael Ruffino. One of my favorite ongoing comic series, Southern Bastards, takes place in Alabama and isn't always a particularly flattering portrayal of the state, so it was cool getting to hear what comic book fans from the area actually think of it. They were fans, and I guess the writer's mom comes into their local comic book store not infrequently which is kinda sweet.
I've fallen so behind on comic books since I've been on the road, but that used to be a huge part of my identity for years. I used to take all my tip money from Dairy Queen, ride my bike down to a local shop that was run out of a guy's basement, and pick up my issues for the week. Then I'd disseminate my favorites to my high school friends and even some of my teachers. Giving out those comic books to my buddies after I was done with them was probably the closest I'll ever come to being a drug dealer in a very nerdy way. In college, my girlfriend at the time found out there was a potential post-grad scholarship given out to students with unique or impressive personal book collections. She suggested I entered my couple hundred deep, 9 year long comic book collection into the running. At the time, I got frustrated that she kept bringing it up, feeling like it meant extra work when I was trying really hard to graduate and apply for jobs (little did I know at the time that this amazing opportunity was around the corner), but now I see much clearer that she was showing an interest in my dumb hobby and believed me enough to think someone else would care about it too. I wish I'd been more appreciative of that in the moment, instead of having my head up my own ass about day to day stuff. I feel like I've grown up a lot on the road (not in a "I wouldn't still spend far too much money on comic books if I was in one place long enough to find a good shop" kinda way), which I think is kind of funny given that all I do most nights is say intentionally immature things about mayonnaise and caterpillars.
Favorite Random Sightings: John Seafood; The Plunderosa; Sweat Tire; A billboard for a lawyer that said "I will personally answer the phone" (i think it was supposed to sound personable, but it also sounds like he has too much free time for a fancy lawyer); Cougar Oil; Mr. Waffle (exact same logo as waffle house, which I didn't realize you could do)
Regional Observations: I'm sure that there's probably real research about this, but in my anecdotal experience the word "water" is one of the best words for bringing out people's regional accents
Albums Listened To: New York Fever by the Toasters; Nex Music by Stubborn All-Stars; The Next Day by David Bowie (this one grew on me more than I expected); A Night at the Opera by Queen (just Bohemian Rhapsody); Night Beat by Sam Cooke (such a beautiful voice, and he wrote a lot of his own songs which was fairly unprecedented); Nighthawks at the Diner by Tom Waits (Not a lot people put out live albums of all original material, but I think it's one of the best representations of Tom as a performer with long rambly beat poetry intros and piano diddling in between songs); Nilsson Schmilsson by Harry Nilsson (an unsung masterpiece, one of my all time favorites)
People's Favorite Jokes:
(quick preface to this one, the barista didn't actually say that it was her favorite, but that it was actually a terrible joke but it's from the Boondock Saints, which is her favorite movie so it's the only one she remembers)
A black guy, a Mexican guy, and a white guy walk along the beach, they see this pot, they rub it, and a genie comes out. The genie says, "You've got one wish, wish for anything you want." So, he asks, Mexican guy what he wants, and he goes, "I want all my people in America to be happy and free and in Mexico." And so, the genie goes - Poof! And, all the Mexicans are in Mexico. And then he asks the black guy, "What do you want?" And he goes, um, uh, "I want all my African brothers in America to be back in Africa and happy and everything." So, the genie goes poof! And, um, all the black people in America are in Africa. So then the genie says to the white guy, "What's your one wish?" And the white guy goes, "You mean to tell me all the blacks and Mexican are out of America?" Genie goes, "Yeah." He says, "Well, um, I'll have a Coke, then." (it's not a great joke, but she used a lot fewer racial slurs when she told it then they do in the movie, I've gotta give her credit for that)
Songs of the Day:
This wasn't on the album I listened today, but there has probably never been this soulful or upbeat a cover of this song.
