“Keep it between the ditches.” So often the parting phrase between folks out in the country and words to live by, no matter the context really. And though born of a more rural and how-to-drive nature, the sentiment echoes truth, even when it comes to how one may want to navigate another carnival season. Keep moving forward and avoid pitfalls. To wit, please embrace the following 10 points to aid in your Mardi Gras journeys this year.

1) Of marathons, livers, and urges. Say this out loud: “Mardi Gras is not a sprint; it’s a marathon.” Now say it again. Now live it. Simple, right? Pace yourself, people. There are miles to go before you will sleep, unless you want to miss getting to the end. This ain’t no “doze off watching Netflix” binge sesh you can catch up on later or watch again tomorrow. This is your life, it’s right now, and your liver ain’t a muscle. So don’t be a dummy and respect the organ status. Or lose out. You choose. Also, you will have to pee; have a plan for that. I’m not even kidding here.

2) Layer and such. “If you don’t like the weather in Louisiana, wait a minute.” While this season’s forecast favors previous year’s, sweaters, jackets, ponchos, and umbrellas too are always solid to have on hand. Toss in a tube of sunscreen or two, maybe a mini first aid kit, and you’ll be good to go.

3) Ride a bike. And thank me later. Driving, ubering, and especially parking is for the birds. If you don’t think you’ll get a ticket parking in that questionable spot, think again—you’ll get a ticket! Take to the streets two-wheeled, and you’ll be fine, mostly. Watch out for all vehicles. If drivers aren’t distracted, they’ve likely imbibed at least somewhat. True story: last year on Prytania at Cadiz between day and evening parades, I witnessed a frustrated driver quickly throw it in reverse without steadily monitoring his six, crushing the rear framework of his Bronco II because he hurriedly missed seeing another vehicle that decided to creep across the roadway. Both drivers got out of their cars a little stupor-like, examined their respective damage, looked at each other, decided all was hunky dory and went their separate ways. Maybe a total of two minutes passed. Don’t be either one of those guys. Keep your transportation wits about you. Nobody wants that headache, nor do you really want to get NOPD involved? Speaking of the po po – – –

4) “Yes, officer.” Use these two words, and mind your tone. Do I need to provide context? Obey the law and enforcement therein. Remember: ignorance of the law does not absolve you of the law. And what NOPD says goes, and in that vein – – –

5) There will be boobs. As well as other fleshly revelations and/or ovations. And while a present NOPD will be spectating just like you, this time of year their policing of loosened garb slips priority. The season isn’t for the prudish, so don’t expect an intervention. Everything in the public eye is subject to publication, digital or otherwise. See how that works, public and publication? Bottom line is: nakedness will happen, more so post sunset but not exclusively so. If you don’t like it, look the other way. Or I don’t know, don’t leave the house maybe? Regarding your homestead – – –

6) Keep your pets at home. Or check them into one them fancy daycare places. First off, don’t neglect your pet because your schedule gets all screwy; their eating and pooing schedule isn’t exactly dictated by masked whimsy like yours will be. Secondly, the parade route isn’t really a pet-friendly environment between the dense crowds, copious sirens, and thunderous marching bands. Exceptions here include the obvious with pet parades like Barkus, as these events are designed around pet culture.

7) Laissez faire. Hands off the merch. Leave the notion of exchange as a one way street; be an observer. Don’t be like the Beastie Boys lyric “got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float.” Enjoy the scenery but resist breaching thresholds. Most floats are massive and can easily crush you. Let’s also mention that while walking and dance krewes will likely engage your senses, they aren’t there to engage you per se. It’s a show, so let them perform. And do I really need to mention not throw back any throws at passing marching bands, their instruments or otherwise?

8) Places, everyone. Unattended, spraypainted sod spelling your name or unmanned, roped off tarp strewn across a neutral ground do not give you claim to anything. Ever. Look it up, bub. You want a choice spot for you and yours? Earn it. With time. Consider where you view as a privilege paid for by your willingness to maintain it. Occupy it with you and your actual physical presence or lose out.

9) Garbage in, garbage out. Pick up after yourself. The adjective astonishing best describes the ample tonnage of refuse the season generates, and let’s just say the concept of recycling and the reality of Mardi Gras have yet to really, fully embrace each other. Yes, many throws get ready reuse in lives relived from year to year. That however pales in comparison to the waste left in the wake of a single krewe’s roll. The packaging alone. What you bring to the table needs to be removed by you as well. Call it a best practice, and be a leader on this one, because frankly there are too many followers on the litter front.

10) Be nice or leave. Again, do I need to provide context? Be respectful. Use language appropriately. Keep your politics and belief systems in check. Or again, go home. This is a party, remember? For everyone. And the city is hosting you and hundreds of thousands of your closest, so act like we all want to do this again next year, ok?

Have a safe and happy carnival, everyone!

Jean-Paul Villere is the owner of Villere Realty on Freret Street and a married father of four girls. In addition to his Wednesday column at UptownMessenger.com, he also shares his family’s adventures sometimes via pedicab or bicycle on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube.