Mardi Gras on the Potomac

A fancy ball in Washington. D.C. is just like a fancy ball any place else, except that it is bigger, more fully packed and--when heavily peopled with gay Louisian-ians--easy on the drawl. Last week such a ball bounced bright and noisy off the walls of the Mayflower Hotel's grand ballroom.

Some 1,100 Senators, Congressmen, major and minor office holders and society folk trooped into the annual Mardi Gras thrown by the Louisiana State Society and captained by Louisiana's Senator Russell Long. They little expected the zip and zeal with which ebullient Russ Long enveloped them--particularly since he had invited them to bring their own liquor. But as they crowded around 96 tables under a ceiling billowing in balloons and confetti, the din raced into high decibels.

Pasha Pants. First came the Mardi Gras traditional "Mystic Krewe"--70 men dressed in crown-shaped hats, yellow sailor-type collars, ballooning gold pants. gold sashes and white masks. Next came the "King," Louisiana Industrialist (forest products) Parrish Fuller, who was costumed in a jeweled crown, aquamarine pasha pants and cloak. Then 26 pretty Louisiana "queens" -- Yambilee (i.e., yams) Queen, Shrimp Queen, Cotton Queen, Livestock and Pasture Queen, etc. --each accompanied by a masked "Duke" in wig, buckled shoes and knee breeches. Each queen curtsied low to the evening's guests of honor, Vice President Richard Nixon and his wife Pat. Nixon responded to each with a low bow, and to the strains of Pomp and Circumstance, escorted the Queen of the Ball to her throne.

After the procession was over, the dance floor looked and sounded like dockside when the shrimp boats come in: the U.S. Navy's top dog, Admiral Arleigh Burke, resplendent in dress uniform, hopped and dipped in a modified hornpipe; Minnesota's eupeptic Senator Hubert Humphrey, in white tie and tails, exulted in his triumph as a handsome hit, allowed as how he had it over Florida's George Smathers and Massachusetts' Jack Kennedy, the two acknowledged best-looking men in the Senate. George Smathers scarcely missed a dance, raced to and fro between his table (for a hasty sip of Scotch) and the dance floor. Idaho's young (32) Freshman Senator Frank Church, ambushed into a dance with Washington Society Hostess Gwen Cafritz, gasped: "Gee whiz!"

Cunning Bun. Around 10:30 the Nixons quietly left. Their takeoff was followed by the departure of stiff, proper Society Matron Mrs. Merriweather Post, hair in cunning bun, dignity coolly intact. Hardly anyone cared; the band blasted out with Hold That Tiger, and for hours that tiger was really loose; jitterbugging, rock 'n' rolling, the crowd poured it on. At length, in the early hours of the morning, the party and the liquor began to subside. Tired, rumpled and glassy-eyed, the guests found their way to the door. Last to leave: Senator Russ Long, his face glowing. Gazing around the room as waiters scooped up masses of cigarette butts, glasses and bottles, the boss of the Mardi Gras said: "Wonderful time, wonderful party."

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