Mardi Gras madness

Over the next four or so weeks, you’ll be able to read thousands of words about Mardi Gras in the pages of the Star. This is not because the Star is, once again, the official media partner of the festival month. It’s because -“ for all its foibles -“ we all love Mardi Gras, and we know the Star‘s readers love it too.

Of course, there’ll be some cringe-worthy moments over the month: One or two films in the Film Festival that are so bad people get home and write letters to us, filled with the sort of venom that survives the post-movie dinner, drinks afterwards and possibly a dance or 12. Sometimes they even arrive the next morning, so full of spite it’s clear the writer hasn’t stopped fuming about it even while asleep.

And there’ll be at least one piece of absolutely shocking theatre; one art exhibition that should come with a warning at the door; and one festival event that flops like a dead fish slipping out of a wet paper bag.

A short recap: Last year’s launch was unspeakable. There was that Fair Day a few years ago that fell on the same date as the biggest anti-war protest the city’s ever seen (remember that?) And then it pissed down with rain a half hour after the demonstration finished, when the crowds finally arrived. Then there was that all-women concert that still, incredibly, takes the bulk of the blame for the demise of the former Mardi Gras organisation.

This will be my most sleep-deprived Mardi Gras month ever, and I’ve just found out I have to move house on the day of the parade. So why, in the face of what is set to be the busiest month of my life so far, do I have butterflies in my stomach thinking about it all?

Because the majority of the stuff that goes on this month -“ this ridiculous, exciting, gay, gay, month -“ is at least fun, and often moving, hilarious or shocking. You might even learn something. If you love it, tell your friends. And if you hate it, you can always write a letter to the Star. Happy Mardi Gras!