Yesterday (unlike today) was beautiful and windy, so Jacob, Charlotte, Karan and I went to Clyde Fant to fly a kite. Just as we got there, of course, the wind died down, but there were enough gusts to keep us occupied for quite a while, especially since Karan was willing to go for a bit of a run.
We took cameras, music, beverages, and (lots of) sunscreen and had a blast. It was a bit hot, and the sun was bright, but I was so grateful for some good, solid Spring weather.
Here’s the Flickr set. I’m soooo looking forward to Spring and Summer weather. Today might as well still be Winter.
Palmer and I went to a roller derby bout on Saturday night. Shreveport’s Twin City Knockers hosted Texarkana’s Vicious Vixens at Hot Wheels in Bossier. We packed some beer in an iced chest, grabbed our camp chairs, and claimed a spot on an outer edge of the rink. I had a blast! Here’s what went down:
It lasted about two hours, and the Twin City Knockers won by 200 points, or so, which seems a bit…embarrassing for the Vicious Vixens. The TCK really seemed to have their act together. A skater named Slutfest (Yes. Slutfest) seemed the favorite. I got a tiny bit of chanting in, but it went on for well over a minute when she was the jammer (the ones who skate around fast and try to get ahead).
Which brings me to why I don’t do roller derby. I was at the TCK’s first few meetings, and I was totally into it. I even went to Dallas to buy skates, which I hadn’t owned in fifteen or twenty years (I’m old!). A friend and I went to a skating rink several times and skated around in circles, which, I quickly learned, was all I wanted to do. Roller derby is violent. I obviously didn’t look into what it really involves before I went to those meetings. Can you imagine me punching people? I’m not good at being violent. And as easily as I bruise, I’d be all shades of purple and yellow and brown. Yuck.
But the violence wasn’t the last straw. The team needed a name, and there were several options. I don’t remember the one I liked, but it certainly wasn’t Twin City Knockers. That’s when I realized how sexualized roller derby is. I couldn’t do a name like Slutfest, nor would I wear skimpy clothing. That said, I was surprised that most skaters were, indeed, sufficiently clothed.
Everything considered, I had a great time. There was an afterparty downtown that we didn’t attend because we were both exhausted by that point. Evidently they had karaoke with a live band, which sounds scary, though I’d have liked to watch, iPhone poised for video clips.
So. Mardi Gras is over. Shreveport’s last big parade was on Sunday, and that’s the only one I went to this year. I grew up, of course, going to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but that’s another post. I’ve been in Shreveport for the past three Mardi Gras, and I’ve only gone to that many parades.
My first Shreveport Mardi Gras parade was the first year one of the two “big” krewes rolled. I was probably 9 or 10 and used to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I don’t remember whether it was Centaur or Gemini, but it suuuuuuuucked. I was so disappointed. There were like five floats, all shittily handmade, and very few riders. And maybe one band. They threw next to nothing.
The next (and only other) time I went to one of those was a couple years ago, and it was passable. Like one of the smaller Metairie parades. As I’ve said before, though, this is Shreveport, and beggars can’t be choosers.
There is one Shreveport parade I do enjoy: Highland. 2011 marks the third year I’ve been. It’s a family parade, so the street is full of kids, and there’s relatively little drinking. That said, I always pull out my traditional Mardi Gras beer: Budweiser, king of beers. (Note that Mardi Gras is the only time I drink it. I prefer Guinness.) I had a couple more than my share this year.
I didn’t take many pictures, mainly because I figured that holding a beer in one hand and a camera in the other wouldn’t help my expert bead-catching skills. But I did pull out the iPhone and snag some video:
Before the parade, Palmer made hamburgers. They were pretty damn tasty.
I only took a couple photos at the parade. Here’s one of an empty float:
They’re surprisingly common. At least three or four floats in Highland only had a couple of people on them. Shouldn’t people be clambering for a spot?
And here’s another. I’m surprised every time I see these guys, especially when I see them at neighborhood parades.
In the video, you can hear the crowd hush a bit while they walk by, but jeez. It’s a family parade! If these guys tried to walk in, say, Bacchus, there’d be a riot.
While I drank my beer and shot my video, Palmer and Jacob took pictures. I’ll post some of my favorites.
I’ve been to a fair number of events at minicine?, a hipster-ridden art exhibition space in downtown Shreveport. I’m usually disappointed. There was an event the other night called Artgasm, which featured sex-themed art and performances. Or at least that’s what they said. Here’s a short Facebook message they sent out before the show:
Why, hello again!
All attendees, please feel free to bring food–we will have deserts and kinky cookies provided, but any and all savory and sweet dishes would be divine!
Also, feel free to come in costume–it’s a sex-themed art show for goodness sake!
I was expecting ridiculousness – at at least some nudity. The last event I went to wasn’t even sex-themed, and there were tattooed, naked people walking around and posing for their “art.” Urgh. I’d prepared myself for some serious gagging, at the very least. I didn’t even get that. Here’s what the minicine people think is quality “art”:
Yep. That’s a taco with pink paint on it. It was on a pedestal in the middle of the room. This one might be even better:
Right again. It’s a dead bird in a ziploc bag. Art like this reminds me of something John Boehmer said fairly recently: “Just because you have the right to do something in America doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.” Showcasing a dead bird in a ziploc bag and calling it “art” is dumb even if the hipster who tacked it up did it “ironically.”
That said, I had fun. Here’s a picture of me in front of my favorite piece in the show, a huge photo of a deer humping another deer in the dark.
Keep in mind that minicine? is pretty popular, at least among Shreveport’s hipsters. These things are always well-attended.
I know I complain about these things too much, and Shreveport desperately needs some kind of culture. When I lived here for about half of 2000, there was absolutely nothing to do. I don’t even think Barnes and Noble had even opened. There were also no coffee shops – not even Starbucks. And I’m not asking for more or better because Shreveport, at this point, anyway, can’t offer more or better. Minicine?, I think, is the best Shreveport can do, and it’s only going to get worse with the upcoming budget cuts to higher education. But that’s another blog post.
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