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Gras Hangovers
 
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Gras Hangovers

drawers, a group of 20
teenagers covered with Spanish
Moss from head to toe, or a man
wearing a see-through
nightgown with only an
athletic support and bra
underneath.

It is a day when persecuted
individuals dress up as Vikings
and make menacing gestures,
when a 240-pound man
costumes as Shirley Temple.
This is a comment on the
Twentieth Century, with all its
paradoxes, its frenzies,
neuroses, and brutality. Yet
the miracle of Mardi Gras is
its un-twentieth century
quality–mass participation in a
common cause. For 10 days in
March, excepting the
occasional violence and hard
feelings, people unite in a spirit
of revelry, a spirit as eternal as
it is fleeting and rare.

The chaos of Mardi Gras
day yields to the pageantry of
the Rex and Comus balls that
night. For those who can
attend these affairs, their
serene grandeur appropriately
complements the tumult of the
afternoon's activities.

Splendor is the hallmark of
the balls, with the monarchs
garbed, in 30-foot trains,
shimmering with rhinestones,
and dancing, curtsying, and
pomp abundant. On Ash
Wednesday, the following day,
most people have hangovers as
payment for their
merry-making. Our University
crew, in addition, had the
penance of a 1,000 mile drive
to endure. Yet, somehow it
was all worth it.