Right around Mardi Gras, saw The Scarlet Cavalier once again…this time he was decked out in a long flowing water-silk looking gown that reminded me of the curtains in Poe’s, “The Raven…over which he wore a long leopard coat, and a leopard skin Musketeer’s hat…a codicil to his gallery image…but it’s been long spaces between he and Hans Brinker, but yesterday, oh my yesterday, driving home along the cemetery road before it turns into Metairie Road….a man on the bike whose back was to me.  He was shirtless but wore a Kelly green backpack over his bare skin that went into perfect X formation over his back and shoulders…his hair as I passed him, was in a rigid blond flat top tilted to one side as though a cement wind had blown in and sealed it there.  But it was his hind region that rendered his moniker:   he was wasp waisted, but he wore a pair of shorts that looked like they were made of parachute material, taupe colored and very padded…his rump looked like he had stuffed twin dumbbells in his pants and protuded outward, sideways and extended past his bike.  Therefore, I dubbed him, “Balloon Butt.”  He looked like the caricatures Mad Magazine used to draw of muscle men on the beach.