For the third year, the Pioneer Square Mardi Gras was a low-key battle between the citizen proponents of fun and the official enforcers of no-fun. This year, an informal truce seemed to have been reached. Nobody I saw tried too hard to act high and/or rowdy; the police seemed more interested in traffic control than with forced attitude adjustment.

An accurate photo essay on the event would have nine pictures of cops and one of participants, instead of the other way around.

No wonder Polaroid’s in Chapter 11: An enterprising entrepreneuse sold digital pix of the low-key revelers, which she instantly churned out on a portable mini-printer.