Celebrating the Season and N’awlins as only ‘Who dats’ should!

By Christopher Tidmore
Contributing Writer

This Christmas, as we “Jingle, jangle, jingle,” in addition to Kris Kringle, the children of New Orleans still cling to “Mr. Bingle.”

Maybe they cuddle that stuffed snowman on grandma’s couch. Maybe they rush up to the huge flying Mr. Bingle who once greeted shoppers on Canal Street — and now stands as gateway to Celebration in the Oaks. Children’s eyes grow just as wondrous before the giant papier-mâché figure as they do beholding the small stuffed snowman inevitably sitting amongst their grandparents’ Christmas decorations. Not one boy or girl could tell you that Mr. Bingle once dangled from the front of the flagship Maison Blanche store on Canal Street, but all know that the holly-winged Santa helper remains as much a part of Christmas as oyster dressing in their home town.

Who needs elves anyway? In New Orleans, we create our own mythology. Perhaps that’s why Mr. Bingle has survived, when other department store Noel figurines fade from memory, recollected as post-WWII gimmicks — if remembered at all. Maison Blanche may be long gone but the marionette “Oscar” Isentrout that once paraded in a Canal Street window remains an elemental part of our holiday.

He stands as just one of the many Christmas traditions in New Orleans which set us apart from our fellow Americans. From the “12 Y’ats of Christmas” to redecorating the Evergreen for Carnival on January 6, we carry our Christmas spirit into Mardi Gras and throughout the year.

We say “hello” to strangers in the streets and often welcome them to dinner into our homes as if it’s December 25 every day. We honor Christmas throughout the year here, whether we realize it or not, with our intrinsic kindness and hospitality—which often seems quite strange to outsiders.

We aren’t so unusual, though. Others act with such joie de vivré, at Christmas at least. They just too often fail to keep that holiday spirit alive for the rest of the year.

Maybe it is Mr. Bingle who blesses us so. Or maybe, we just forget to be thankful for how special our Crescent City can be. We take for granted how our holiday spirit continues past December. We count our 380 festivals as nothing special; our celebratory gestalt as unremarkable. From moments great to small, we forget our uniqueness.

From a gumbo shared, to a crawfish boiled, to a random bit of dancing to musicians performing in the street, for all of our problems infrastructural, economic or political, we always remember our sense of play, our sense of joy, our sense of shared merriment.

We never forget our inner child, in other words, just like Mr. Bingle.

So tell your kids the story of that cone-topped snowman who seemingly prances his holly-wings on so many of our city’s sofas and Christmas trees. Just say, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Mr. Bingle, and his message from Kris Kringle is for the world to savor each single day as we New Orleanians do.”

And to be thankful on this Holy Week that we all can share the jollity of the Crescent City; each day remembering that it is “Time to launch your Christmas season/For Bingle’s Home makes Christmas pleasin.’”

This article originally published in the December 23, 2019 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.