The Mardi Gras party held in West Point tonight was as good as any I’ve experienced in The Big Easy.
I’ve lived through lots of fund raisers and Mardi Gras celebrations, but this was the best supported event I’ve ever seen. What do you think Frank? Four hundred? Easy.
Frank Portera put on a show that unfortunately I can’t show you. In all the confusion of taking pictures of people in funny hats and wild costumes, sampling a fabulous smorgasbord, I came home with an Olympus camera which doesn’t belong to me and someone else has my Nikon with all my priceless photos.
My computer can’t read that camera and I’m wondering who is trying to read the strange camera which came home with them?
It doesn’t really matter because I still hold the memories: Jimmy Henley in his big ole blinking Mardi Gras Cowboy Hat, and Marie with her hot pink feather hair piece and Butch Luke in his fabulous white ponytail. (I DO like a man with a pony tail.)
I remember Annie’s cheese straws and those fabulous raisin tarts, the creamy dips, the artichoke everything, the first slow dance and the harsh recognition that no one was going to ask me to dance.
This was a fund raiser for the wonderful no-kill animal shelter in West Point. They don’t euthanize, they go to extreme lengths to find foster homes and permanent homes for God’s greatest creations. They need help. Now, if I can find my camera.