Key West Fantasy Fest Parade, Where Art is People
Posted: Sunday, November 01, 2009
by Gregory Lewis
PopGnosis
Even as my blistered, sandaled feet were recovering from the long Key West walk on Friday evening, I decided to hit the Fantasy Fest parade, the grand finale. I parked my van at the parking area off Higgs Beach and bicycled the rest of the way to Duval St. I had a brutally technical paper to write for physiological psych, and I almost talked myself out of going. But then, it occurred to me that, here I am, in the Florida Keys with a continuous stream of traffic flowing from the mainland just for this very occasion. Who am I to deny history, and my position in it?
The costumed throngs were meandering up and down the barricaded street. There was a pod of green-haired, Oompa Loompas each wearing Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder) medallions. There was the strange silver H1N1 spaceship. I quickly acquired my first Mardi gras beads when a "pink" man bequeathed some very nice hot pink and jet black necklaces over the heads of people close to the barrier. By evening's end I would bring home a small fortune in dazzling cheap costume jewelry.
Many participants, if you don't understand Fantasy Fest, are topless, or completely naked. Some don't even wear a g-string, and there were a few that were just plain gross, like the fat man in his underwear. What kind of costume is that?
But, there was some real dazzling body paint, and the one that caught the attention of every would-be Annie Leibovitz with a camera was the "Star" woman. She was painted in a base of midnight blue, every square inch, with orange, fiery comets traveling down her back, and stars on her legs, planets on her torso, and nebulae on her breasts. She wore a large silver crescent moon set in a silver turban on her head. She was positively galactic. This cool number could not take a few steps without being asked to pose for a photo, and she graciously obliged, even where pedestrians wanted to pose with her.
The parade took a long time in coming. In fact, I don't think I saw the first float until around 8:30. By then, I had collected a few more beads around my neck, and there were no more front row spaces to be had. There was lots of free flowing beer and booze--completely legal to drink in the open, as long as you stay on Duval. With all that alcohol you get a few hopeless drunks. One obnoxious fellow was provoking a man dressed as an Arab with the usual backwater rhetoric. Mostly, people were well behaved. If you ever do get into trouble on Key West, though, it is a sure thing that out of towners are the instigators. This kind of event is simply a magnet for the worst dregs of society, as well as the benign.
Key West is recognized for its gay pride. Right around the New Orleans House, where Sookie the drag queen is lowered in her big red slipper on New Years, attended by the CNN mobile news van and even Anderson Cooper, the queens were frolicking in reckless abandon. I collected a few more sizzling beads from some playful but good natured queens on the balcony, and continued my crawl.
All the time I had been smoking my Arturo Fuente, in honor of my friend Tom Favelli, who owns the Key West Cigar Store. Tom invited me to a fete this coming November 5, honoring members of the original Gato family that were a big name in the history of Key West cigar manufacturing.
The moon was nearly full, hovering over this subtropical paradise like a voyeuristic eye. I was reminded of one of my favorite Bible stories, of Joseph in Egypt who accused his brothers visiting from Cannan of coming to see the nakedness of his land.
After doffing my cigar in a beer bottle, I marveled at the delicacies the food vendors were selling on the side streets. I settled for a seafood salad platter, which was a base of yellow rice with an assortment of seafood heaped high, and a Greek salad squeezed into what little space was left on the side. Reinvigorated, I followed it with a glass of beer and felt much better about being one sardine of thousands in the middle of Duval Street. There was no going back now!
The first float was a huge monster head on the end of a cherry picker bucket. Its gaping maw was full of long teeth, and a wagging tongue. In its head were two costumed men. The head would lift high into the air, maybe 30 feet, and then drop down again. The men looked like they were precariously perched in the creature's hat, but I saw that in reality, they were standing safe inside the bucket, but with fake legs dangling outside to make it look like they were only barely clinging to the enormous monster's hat. The effect was gripping.
Parade Marshall Bridgett Marquardt, Playgirl and former Hugh Heffner girlfriend was dressed like a ghoulish bat and rode high atop another float. I was one of the lucky ones that caught her simple gold-colored Mardi gras beads. As more beads were flung, I started giving some away, one of these to a young girl of about two. After putting the green necklace around her head while she was draped over her mother's shoulder, she couldn't keep her eyes off me. I must have been her idol after that.
Unlike last year's New Years in front of Sloppy Joe's, I determined this year that I would keep moving, rather than remain fixated in one spot. It proved fortuitous, as the "gold" kept flowing my way. A great pirate ship-the "Blood Vessel" passed by, and I caught a very nice necklace, spangled with large gold doubloons. The Florida Keys were once notorious as a base for pirates of the Caribbean. We have a heritage of sunken ships and booty. Though, most of the booty I was witnessing tonight wasn't that sort. Before the night was over, I would capture a few more doubloon necklaces. They were coveted by the throngs, and I was lucky to have brought home one, let alone three.
As the evening climaxed I walked back to where my bike was chained. The beads kept falling from the sky and into my hands or around my neck, their weight became ponderous. I was so glad I had my bike this time, instead of having to walk back to the van. Somewhere around the 1200 Duval block the streetlights flickered off for one second. The crowd cheered, and then they came on again. But, not for long. Moments later there was a thunderous "Boom!", and orange sparks flew out of a transformer on a utility pole ahead of me. Now the lights were permanently out, and the only illumination came from the floats.
I found a glow stick, and fastened it to my bicycle for safety, although lighting returned once I rode away from Duval. There was the quiet of the ocean, undisturbed but for the lights of a distant cruise ship, the Halloween moon painting a quiet tropical still life over silver palm trees and ebony sea.
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