Unless it's your birthday, you've just been promoted, or find out that you have the winning Powerball numbers, April 15 is not the most celebrated day in America.
But wait! If you're about to opt for that last-minute extension, maybe, just maybe, there's a way to make Tax Day fun, New Orleans-style...
We are gathered today for an intervention. Right here on your radio dial. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but it has.
People of New Orleans: WE have a problem.
We're addicted. To festivals. Now, as I’m still relatively new here, I’m not sure how this addiction got started. The first Jazz Fest? The first Greek Fest? Maybe it’s like the Big Bang Theory. You know, millions of years ago, there was one lone festival on this swampland we now call home. Then… POW…there was a massive explosion and that one fest became gazillions of fests. With their very own calendar.
What I am sure of is that, even in this city of indulgence, New Orleans has an overabundance of festivals. There are the big ones like Jazz Fest and Voodoo Fest, the medium ones like Bayou Boogaloo and Crescent City, and the small ones that can — and do — literally fit in a backyard, like Chaz Fest.
Our festivals run all year. From Creole Gumbo in March to Zydeco in June, right through Swamp, Fringe and Po’ Boy Festivals in November. The cruelest is Satchmo Fest, which includes a massive second line down Rampart. At high noon. In August. Earning it the nickname Sweat Fest.
Our streets have festivals in New Orleans, our authors have festivals, our hogs have festivals… for a cause. Even our cracklin’s have festivals.
It don’t matter. Stick the name “fest” on the end of something and New Orleanians will show up like a bunch of hip-swayin’, toe-tappin’, daiquiri swillin’ zombies.
In fact, our addiction is so severe that I bet the federal government could increase tax receipts dramatically if it designated April 15 as Tax-fest Day.
I can see it now:
A white tent pitched outside the Mid-City post office on Jeff Davis. Kristin Diable, Shannon Powell and Kermit up on the stage. Abita on tap. And crawfish on the menu. Lots of crawfish.
The price of admission would be your completed return (on an actual IRS form, not the back of a napkin).
With Tax Fest, New Orleans would immediately become America’s #1 city for on-time tax filers. Just like we used to be #1 in readership of our daily newspaper. When we had a daily newspaper.
Now, I know what you're thinking: "He's being a bit over the top about this festival thing.” "It's not that bad." Or maybe you're even telling yourselves, "We can stop at any time."
In which case, I have two words for you: Mirliton Fest.
To read a related article written by Brett Will Taylor, visit Nolavie.com.