Call it Carnival, Fat Tuesday, Shrovetide, Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras. A party by any other name is still a party and the timing is perfect to chase away any shadows of Cabin Fever that a long winter in the high country can inspire. From the beaches of Rio de Janeiro (where no costume at all is a prize winner), to the smoky bars of Bourbon Street, and from the canals of Venice, Italy, to the snowy ski trails of Red River, New Mexico, the pre-lenten celebration is a time for fun, food and frivolity and the brightly colored and fanciful costumes worn by the nightly revelers are a reminder that the roots of celebration go far back in history, and a fanciful imagination is one of humanity's many blessings. Clowns, dancing girls, pirates, ladies of society, water sprites and gnomes, unicorns and butterflies. If only the ancient Greeks could see us now! Would they recognize our Mardi Gras as the distant kin of their Bacchanalian celebrations? Would the Romans, who stole everything Greek and claimed it as their own culture, recognize The Feast of Lupercalia in the modern Fat Tuesday Truck Parade? Would the Parisians recognize the Beaux Gras - Fatted Ox - which they saw paraded through the streets of the City of Lights - in the gumbo pots.