“When I grew up, I wanted to be Folly, not a doctor or lawyer. My grandfather joined Knights Of Revelry (KOR) over 60 years ago. My uncle was selected as Folly during the 125th anniversary–I was ten and realized I could be Folly, too. Years later, I started working towards Folly as soon as my dad got me into KOR.

The KOR board chooses Folly, and the president goes to your home, asking you to be Folly. I was one bite into dinner at my parent’s house when the KOR president walked in the back gate. Folly. It was my turn.

A man can be Folly for two years. My first year was when Mardi Gras parades were canceled because of COVID; I was Folly at a small KOR event and a special summer parade. But my second year was incredible. Mardi Gras was back. Mobile showed up and showed out.  

Folly stands on top of a twenty-foot tall champagne glass on the float: it’s called ‘the cup’. There is no other feeling like climbing in the cup the first time. It’s the only float in Mobile Mardi Gras with just one person. There were no friends to cut up with, so I had to make it fun. I had headphones in one ear, and my sister played my Spotify playlist as I went down the street, so I had something to dance to.

The parade starts on a small, tree-lined street and turns onto Royal Street. Boom. People twenty to forty deep. Folly is always the first float of the parade. Every head was turned my way. My job was to make the city have fun while banging a cow bladder, scaring away evil. 

I’m usually a laid-back person. My wife gets mad at me for not dancing with her at weddings. But when I put on the mask, I wasn’t myself anymore. People wanted to see the wild and crazy.

The first half of the parade went by fast, but we turned onto Government Street the second time, catching the tail of our parade. We waited almost thirty minutes for the Comic Cowboys to pass. Keeping up the energy is hard when we’re stopped and looking at the same people. I wanted to entertain them, but they got tired of watching me dancing and banging cow bladders after a while. 

Dancing and swinging the bladders was exhausting. But I still had to rappel off the glass at the end of the parade. That’s tradition. I grabbed the rope with my cramped hands; my arms were so tired that I barely made it down. As much fun as the parade is, it’s only half the day. The reception lasts another four hours. 

There was nothing like being Folly. I became a rock star for a day with 100,000 people screaming at me. Then I went back to being myself and back to work. No one knew my secret. I was depressed for a few days after the excitement was over.

But this year I’m putting on the Folly costume and banging the bladders one more time. Since there wasn’t a parade my first year, the president asked me to get back in the cup for the 150th anniversary. This is the most honored I’ve ever been. We’ve made 500 bladders for the 150th parade; that’s a lot more to throw into the crowd. I want the rest of our floats to see nothing but bladders swinging on the route. This is my last time putting on the Folly costume; they will have to drag me out of it at the end of the night. 

My son’s school just had a Mardi Gras parade–he was Folly. My dad and I built him a Folly float. Pulling my son on his own little float and watching him have a good time was more than I could ask for. It was the first time he wanted to be like Daddy. I’m hoping one day he can get in the ‘big cup’.”

Folly 

Folly’s photos are courtesy of Steve and Nancy Joynt of the Mobile Mask.