I moved to New Orleans many, many Carnival seasons ago. As a Yankee, I wasn’t even sure what Mardi Gras was but I kept hearing about it.

“Wait ‘til Mardi Gras.” “You’ll love Mardi Gras.” Then, “That’ll have to wait ‘til after Mardi Gras.” I started hearing that one a lot.

What? I thought, Does the city just shut down? (That’s a big, fat yes to you out-of-town freshmen.)

And just that one Mardi Gras was enough. I knew this was the city for me.

I was 24, and I had never seen anything like it: Streets full of revelers, all-day cook-outs with multiple generations as parades roll and roll. Families bringing couches, tables, grills, even port-o-lets to the parade route. Talk about setting up camp. Only in New Orleans do we bring our own bathroom with us to a street party.

Why doesn’t the rest of the country do this? I still don’t know the answer to that. But we do and you should. Don’t be a tourist — leave that to them. Be a participant.

Go to the parades after class — the streetcar runs down St. Charles Avenue to Napoleon Avenue on parade nights. You might think you don’t want plastic beads, but you’re wrong.

Bring change to toss to the flambeaux carriers. In the old days, the fire of the flambeaux was all the light revelers had at night.

Buy Arthur Hardy’s Mardi Gras Guide and read about the parades and the history and special throws.

This year, Zulu celebrates its centennial anniversary and Thoth will toss stuffed starfish in keeping with its “Aquatic Adventures” theme.

Go downtown to Armstrong Park before Barkus and watch owners coaxing their dogs into costumes.

Walk down Napoleon Avenue before the parades start and talk to the float riders while they are waiting to roll. Get a sense of how much money these folks spend on throws so we can all have fun.

Don’t miss Tucks, which was started, according to Arthur Hardy, “by a rag-tag group of Loyola students.”

The story goes that the club takes its name from Friar Tuck’s, an old Uptown pub where two Loyola students decided to create their own krewe. This irreverent krewe is debuting a new throw: toilet-seat sun glasses. You’ll want those.

And be sure to see Zulu.

And I know, I know, that might be a challenge — being up and out on Mardi Gras by 8:30 a.m. But I am sure you are up to it. Stay up all night on Lundi Gras if you have to. Zulu coconuts are Mardi Gras.

Wear a costume. And plan ahead. This is the best advice you’ll get all year. (Outside the classroom I mean, of course.) Get some friends and come up with a group theme. 

Wearing a costume enhances your Mardi Gras experience in a way you just won’t know ‘til you’re exhausted back in your bed early Ash Wednesday.

If this is your first Mardi Gras, tell everyone, especially if you’re from, say, Utah. We New Orleanians love showing off our hospitality, especially to newcomers. You’ll get free drinks, bowls of gumbo and party invitations galore. Really.

Get up and get out on Mardi Gras day with your group. Bring only what you can carry, which should be water and granola bars.

Churches all along St. Charles Avenue and downtown will sell Cokes and burgers for a few dollars.

Make your way down to Lee Circle, where the bands roar as they near the reviewing stands.

And finally, try to be on Bourbon Street at midnight for the official end of Mardi Gras when mounted officers, followed by garbage trucks and street sweepers come through and announce darkly, “Mardi Gras is over.”

And because you’ve been out since 8:30 a.m. it really is time to go home.

Laura Betty is the marketing coordinator for the School of Mass Communication. She can be reached at [email protected].