More odd thoughts...

Time for some more vignettes. As you know, “vignette” is French for someplace you haven’t visited but hope to see some day. I’ll use it in a sentence: “I’ve always wanted to visit Australia, but I haven’t vignette.” Waka waka waka, as Fozzy Bear would say…

Today I’m going truly random on the vignettes, getting rid of some odds and ends, so brace yourselves.

PHOTOS

Starting soon, I'll be providing you with a "best of" format, so that you don't get buried in too many photos. But here's the last batch of the old style...

http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=483201174411907605/l=249866128/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

FRENCH POLITICS THOUGHT OF THE WEEK
The French presidential elections are in May, so the campaign is in full swing. The French Communist Party’s candidate is named Marie-George Buffet. First observation: I can’t decide if “Buffet” is the best or the worst possible name for a Communist Party leader. On one hand, the excessive face-stuffing at a buffet seems so…capitalist. But on the other hand, everyone has equal rights to whatever they require. Tough call.

Second observation: she looks strikingly similar to Anne Robinson, the host of that “Weakest Link” game show (“You are the weakest link…Goodbye!”) Don’t believe me? Check out http://www.mariegeorge2007.org/ and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Robinson Now, should Communists really be singling out weakest links? Unclear.

SPACE INVADERS
As the kids say, I want to give a “shout out” to Space Invaders. Not to the 80s-era video game, but to the 90s-era French graffiti/mosaic street art project. Basically, some guy got the idea to put up small tile mosaic reproductions of video game figures (mainly Space Invaders) on exterior walls originally all over Paris, but now in more than 30 cities worldwide. They’re innocuous, mostly under one foot square, and if you are not looking for them, you might never see one. But once you do start looking, you come across them everywhere. Some (CM…) doubt their existence, but the photo I’m including here, as well as www.space-invaders.com and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invader_%28artist%29 should be proof enough. The Space Invaders are one of my favorite things about Paris, so I just thought I’d mention them here. The artist has put up Space Invaders in LA and New York (one Invader at the World Trade Center was destroyed on 9-11-2001); I wish he’d make it to DC, but maybe the Homeland Security folks have kept him at bay so far…

QUOTE OF THE YEAR
“Washingtonians think their town resembles Paris,” she once scoffed. “If Paris passed gas, you’d have Washington.”
- from Henrietta Lumbroso, AKA Etty Allen, mother of former Senator George Allen
[I don’t agree, I just think it’s hilarious]

RANDOM MUSINGS
On Asian Culture : I prefer chai tea to tai chi
On Revolutionary Tactics: I’d rather stow thrones than throw stones

EXCELLENT BAND NAME(S)
During a recent discussion between Sara and me regarding why most every French café posts the cost for a “gherkin supplement” on its menu, we stumbled on an excellent band name: Hoarding Gherkins. Another excellent band name would be Gherkin Elevator, the wonderful French invention that allows lonely gherkins (aack! another great band name!) to be easily lifted out of their brine (check out the thing at the bottom of the jar at http://amora.pourtoutvousdire.com/framora/product/Product_Detail_Ptvd_Framora/0,,10264-1577,00.html). Apologies to Dave Barry, who created the whole “good name for a rock band” humor concept, see http://www.davebarry.com/rockbandlist.html

CLIPS FROM THE BEDROOM WALL
Here’s some funny stuff I’ve found in local French periodicals and that’s now highlighted on our bedroom wall 1.) A kit of fashion accessories for an Ipod, intended just for young girls, with the they-must-not-speak-English name “Thrustmaster”; 2.) An ad for a tanning salon featuring “before” and “after” images, not of a pale-then-tan individual, but instead depictions of a person’s social life before and after the tan (in the first, a geeky guy licks a computer screen, in the second a sexy lady licks the geek’s ear); 3.) An ad for a gourmet Italian food store that features a cityscape of a charming Italian village, and towering over it, Godzilla-like, the owner, in chef’s whites, inexplicably…Japanese.

FUNNY FRANCE INFO MOMENTS
I love to listen to France Info, the 24-hour radio news station (you can listen live online at http://www.radiofrance.fr/chaines/france-info/accueil/). It’s always quite interesting, but a couple of times recently, it’s also been funny. First, they ran an in-depth story on gambling addiction story which was immediately followed by…that day’s horse race results. Later that day, they reported that a single, easy-to-remember nationwide domestic violence hotline had been created…and would be staffed six days a week, and closed overnight. Only in France…

IPOD ANECDOTE OF THE WEEK
Another absurd Ipod moment—while walking down one of Paris’ most narrow streets, in the primarily Jewish Marais neighborhood, what came on my Ipod but…Ghostbusters. But given the neighborhood, I suppose it was really more “Goybusters.” “Who ya gonna call? Your mother!” [Fret not, I just called my mom tonight, in case any of you were concerned…]

QUOTE ABOUT OUR STREET
I keep forgetting to post this quote about our street in Paris. In the last paragraph, she’s referring to a beloved French children’s book, “Les Contes de la rue Broca.”

“In Paris, I love the mystery of the Rue Broca because it is a street unlike any other…if you take a plan of Paris, you will see that the Rue Pascal and the Rue Broca run at right angles from the Boulevard Port-Royal. But if you take your car and to along the aforementioned boulevard hoping to find either street…you won’t find them! They both run from the Boulevard Arago to the Rue Claude-Bernard; thus, they ought to bisect the Boulevard Port-Royal.

In order to solve the mystery, return to Port Royal, but this time on foot. Start from the Gobelins Factory heading west and at a certain moment you will come alongside an empty space…Not far from here opens the mouth of a stairway. Descend the stairs: you are now on the Rue Pascal. Above you: the Boulevard Port-Royal. A little farther from the Gobelins, the same phenomenon occurs, but this time for the Rue Broca, which is a curved, narrow, tortuous, and sunken street not far away, but on another level, subterranean, in the open air and inhabited by people who, much like me (remember that I am an editor of tales), love their stories.

And I also love the story of Monsieur Pierre, the one about the giant, the sorcerer, Lustucru, and La Mere Michet, and about the voyaging doll and the fairs: the stories of the Rue Broca.”

- Paris Access, by Robert Saul Wurman (Second Edition, 1990)
Interview with Maria de Mase, Publisher (p. 200)

That’s all for now, stay tuned for something more thematic (it would be hard to be less thematic, I suppose…) next time…

Bordeaux and Cows

[Here are the two latest batches of photos:
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=41321172842757557/l=249642553/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=951201174410283660/l=249866127/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB ]

France just isn’t the country I thought it was and it seems just about every week there is something that takes my expectations and tosses them out the nearest “window”. This last week was no exception.

On a tip from our DC friend Meg, we decided to attend the French Agricultural Fair. I thought that this was my chance to make up for missing the Montgomery County Fair. The poster in the Paris metro had an enormous and very cute cow on it, but it was inside the city limits, so my expectations were low. But, it sounded like a great afternoon, one of the French Presidential Candidates was slated to visit on the day we were going and I heard there was a great food tent.

Well, I really underestimated the French this time. I should have known that any country that takes its food and wine so seriously would have to then take its agriculture seriously. As it turns out this event is so well attended, approximately 1:10 Frenchman will attend it!

First, the livestock—we visited the building with cows, sheep, goats, and pigs. Who would have guessed that the largest cow I’ve ever seen would be in Paris? (this is no small feat considering I did grow up in Indiana).

They had cows of every variety, each one seemingly more enormous than the previous. They also even had a special place for “the Poster cow”, so we saw him too. In a true Parisian twist, several of the larger cows were being sketched by art students.

The piglets were very cute, as usual, and the sausage stand a mere 25 feet from the pigs was a reminder of the circle of life. The goats and sheep weren’t particularly noteworthy, but I did enjoy the sheep dog who was rounding them up in the arena.

Admittedly though, we skipped the dog/chicken/horse building and the other 5 buildings of exhibits (gardening, tools, etc, etc, etc), to get to the good stuff aka—the food buildings. There was food from every region of France (which might as well be different countries in their own right gastronomically) and all of the French territories (say what you will about deciding French influence, but there are still a LOT of little places that speak French out there).

We enjoyed raw scallops and a special cake (that is pretty much butter, sugar and more butter) from Brittany, oysters from the coast, foie gras, boar sausage, caramel, cheese from all over, the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted that was a hand cranked coconut sorbet from the Tahiti area, banana rum (from Martinique) and wine from the Bordeaux region. Though I adore county fairs back in the States, I think the French version of the fair wins on the wine tasting area alone.

We did limit ourselves (so as to be able to make it through the rest of the fair), but it was really fun to chat wine with sellers who don’t even sell their wine in Paris (though we did ask often if they distributed to the states and /or Nebraska—though I’m not sure any of them had ever heard of Nebraska. CK/AK, we’re the Corkscrew Parisian scouting team. J)

We left happily full of all of France’s goodness (or at least as much as we could enjoy in 6 hours). Paris may be a city of cigarette smoking, café sitting, politics talking people, but they are a people who know really still connect with the country, if only at times for the food and I was happy to be counted among these Parisians for a wee bit.

sPg

These are a few of my favorite things....this week...

10 favorite things in Paris this week

In a spin off of Josh’s vignettes, I’m opting for an even briefer glimpse into life here in Paris these last few days. The reality is that this city continues to amaze me in 100 small ways each day. So, for anyone from 2T (you know who you are…) , this may seem a bit like the old days…

10. Cheap Vegetable Bins—I know I mentioned these in my last entry, but I love them! Today for 1 and a half euros, I got a bunch of mushrooms and two tomatoes.

9. The Buttes-Chaumont Park—it’s like Central Park, but on the edge of Paris. Josh and I visited the first time, and I returned yesterday to sit in the sun (and sip wine) with my friend Angie.

8. Student discounts—Josh and I have been flashing student IDs left and right, each time saving us a few euros. My ID is from the Alliance Francais (French classes are over, but the ID is still valid), Josh’s is from 1892 (aka 1998 when he was “researching” as part of a fellowship in France—they don’t check too closely). We have gotten discounts at the following places in the last week: the French Agricultural Fair, the Erotic Museum and the Louvre—oh wait, we didn’t go to the Louvre, but I am planning on trying to use it to get a cheaper haircut. My goal is to make back my tuition with discounts before we leave.

7. My Tuesday Coffee Group—Each week several of my former French classmates meet for coffee at 11:30AM. The regulars include: Angie (an American flight attendant), Ali (a Turkish journalist), Shell (a Canadian student), Eric (an Australian Chef) and myself. It’s a random group of people who make me laugh and gratefully speak English. We also swap English books and rugby has been the topic of conversation this week since the European playoffs have been going on.

6. Flowers—It really feels like spring has sprung here in Paris. The flower shops are outdone only by the flowering trees and the tulips that are starting to bloom. In a related note, you can also tell its spring because I think every other person is making out with someone, but it might also be that the city is just that romantic!

5. Ecole Koenig—My first real French job is with a music school that teaches over 350 students music and theater—sound familiar? I am thrilled to be in a place that feels so committed to good teaching and in an environment that inspires the children.

4. St. Chinian Wine—We continue to drink fabulous wine at every turn, but our “house wine” continues to be a favorite. As a true sign of our devotion (or slight insanity), we took a special trip to a store to stock up on Friday night. We just keep thinking that they have put the decimal point in the wrong place because surely no good wine could really only cost 1.25.

3. Marco Polo Vert Tea—I had the best cup of tea I’ve ever had at my French teacher’s apartment last week. Immediately after the lesson, Angie, Josh and I set out to find the tea (which we found for a good price at Bon Marche). It is made by Mariage Freres, a famous French tea company, and I’m drinking a cup as I type this. I will say, the French do coffee extremely well, but tea is a regular part of my life here in a way that it wasn’t in DC.

2. Metro musicians—I know it might be annoying to some people, but I adore the accordion players, singers and drummers who hop between cars, hoping for a euro from the crowd. This week I heard a fabulous violin player and found myself smiling (JN, I couldn’t help but think of you…)

1. Champagne—I know its no surprise that champagne in Paris is wonderful, but we’ve had only a few glasses and last night Josh bought a bottle to celebrate my new job. It was light and fruity (but yet complex and interesting). It was a special night and surely drinking champagne at our kitchen table will always be one of my favorite memories of this year.

A more traditional entry will follow soon, but I didn’t want to miss a chance to offer just a few tidbits from across the Pond.

sPg

Historical Humility

[First, before I forget, here are our latest photos, through March 2:
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=41321172842757557/l=249642553/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB]

I don’t know if this is normal for spouses (from what I’ve heard, it is with any siblings), but I know that as soon as I find out something gets under Sara’s skin, I waste no time in redoubling my efforts to break it out any chance I get. [Note from Josh: Sara hates the expression so much, she really didn’t want me including it verbatim in our blog, so you’ll note some edits below…]

A perfect example of this is the saying “X [poops] bigger than Y.” In other words, X is so clearly bigger/better/stronger than Y, it’s not even worth discussing. (Science has determined that in fact, virtually all species and people are bigger than their own excreta, hence the expression.)

For people too polite and/or sheltered to have had access to this expression (CM to the banquet, CM to the banquet please…), I’ll use it in a couple of sentences. The original Star Trek [poops] bigger than The Next Generation and all that crap. Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby [poops] bigger than that those little white Hood vanilla ice cream cups with the wooden spoons. Thomas Jefferson [poops] bigger than Millard Fillmore. You get the idea.

Well, go figure, Sara’s not a fan of the expression. But it’s the essence of today’s blog, so sorry Sara, I have no choice. Here it goes:

French history [poops] bigger than American history.

The first time I went to France back in 1989, my host father, a history buff and an antiques collector, made an offhand comment over dinner one night that the US was a young country with an extraordinarily short history and historical perspective. I remember sputtering, “We have a rich history, with the American Revolution, the Civil War, two World Wars, Vietnam, and the like.” He just smiled.

After three going on four years living in France, every day I understand better what he meant. Don’t get me wrong, I do think America has a fascinating and essential history. But the numbers don’t lie.

[Before I get started, let me recognize the politically correct and just plain correct reality that America was clearly home to indigenous people long before any of the European-American history I’ll discuss ever took place. And let’s just leave Leif Erickson out of the discussion for convenience sake as well.]

American history goes back roughly 400 years (as Queen Elizabeth’s upcoming visit to Virginia will soon commemorate). The history of the French (via their precursors the Gauls) goes back roughly 400 years…BC/BCE. Our country itself only goes back 230 or so years. France has stuff in the back of its fridge that’s older than that.

Admittedly, in those 230 years, we’ve only had two forms of government: the confederacy under the forgettable Articles of Confederation, and the democratic republic under the Constitution. Now, during those same years, the French had a monarchy, the First Republic, the First Empire, the Restoration of the monarchy, a bit more First Empire, the Restoration II (Electric Boogaloo), a constitutional monarchy, the Second Republic, the Second Empire (The Empire Strikes Back), the Third Republic, semi-dictatorship under Vichy, the Fourth Republic, the Fifth Republic, and something called “Cheese-a-palooza.”

Still, despite the…excitability of the past 230 years of French government, they still have millennia of perspective on their national history. To Americans who didn’t live through that era, the Vietnam War seems like ancient history. To the French (who got in and got out before us), it’s last Thursday.

In that same first visit to France, I asked my host father how the French could have moved so quickly past the humiliation inflicted by the Germans in three recent wars (1870, 1914, 1939) to go on to form the core partnership of the European Union. He replied that France had only been at war with the Germans for 100 years, and that the Brits were the ones that really got the French’s goat (cheese), since they’d been at war on and off with the French for fully 1,000 years.

I’ve mentioned my commute in an earlier blog, and it’s useful to mention here to reinforce my point about the immensity of French history. Just a block or two short of my office, there’s an intersection that I normally just plow straight through. But I know from past trips that were I to turn left at that nondescript intersection, within two blocks I’d be face-to-face with two beautiful timbered medieval buildings that date back over 500 years. And if I had turned right, within two blocks I’d find the massive remains of one of Paris’ earliest city walls, built between 1180 and 1210. (The church which stands in the wall’s shadow dates “only” from 1796.) Similarly, on a recent walk just minutes from our apartment, Sara and I stumbled on a castle and two of the oldest buildings in Paris, all centuries older than our country. The point being that in France, around any corner, you could just stumble on something one, two, three, even nine times (the Roman baths at Cluny) as old as our country.

But we have beautiful, historical structures in the U.S. as well, you say. What about the Washington National Cathedral? Well, here’s a quiz—which president placed the final stone in the Cathedral? Teddy Roosevelt? Woodrow Wilson? No, George H.W. Bush, in 1990 (The last stone was a finial, a word which I had to look up. It means “a sculptured ornament, often in the shape of a leaf or flower, at the top of a gable, pinnacle, or similar structure.” I wonder if before he placed the stone, Bush Pere said “Let’s get finial, finial. Let me hear some body talk…”) Notre Dame was started in 1163, and finished around 1345. That makes its cornerstone nearly four times as old as the U.S. of A.

When you consider that the French national cathedral was built 800 years ago using just hard labor and the most basic of tools, while ours relied on cranes and laser tools and was finished less than twenty years ago, it is truly humbling. In retrospect, the nearly twenty years it took me to understand the comparative youth of our country is just a drop in the bucket.

Greetings, People of Earth

Greetings, People of Earth:

No set theme to the blog today, just another collection of vignettes (as you know, “vignette” is French for “those tiny chocolate-covered raisins they sell you at the movie theater”).

First, an apology: I’ve been bad about posting our photo links to the blog. I’ve been good about taking the pictures, I’ve been good about transferring them from my camera to my computer, I’ve been good about uploading the photos to Snapfish. But each time I post a blog entry, I forget to post a link to the pictures. So, basically, there’s a frog-load of pictures here, so set aside longer than usual to peruse them. In each batch, there should be a satisfying mix of “artsy pictures,” “touristy pictures,” “people pictures,” and “still-life pictures of vegetables.” You’ll see what I mean. Let me know what you think of the pictures (particularly the artsy ones).

Week Two Photos: Most importantly, photos of our long-term apartment (the photos in our “Week One” batch were of the apartment we only lived in for our first few days in Paris). Also, photos of Sara and I drinking wine from baby bottles, and some of those crazy vegetable still lives.
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=199251169759156695/l=240180977/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Weeks Three and Four: lots of photos of the French national library, Sara’s and my stroll along a Paris canal, and other fun stuff
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=62461170781409622/l=240334660/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Weeks Four and Five: a good, old-fashioned Paris protest, Sara’s and my Valentine’s Day (a trip to the ballet and to a smoky jazz joint), plus a weekend trip to visit chateaux/castles in the Loire Valley (plus super-cute kidlet pix of our friends’ Beth and Sebastien’s twins)
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=201191171900796337/l=240502926/g=14513899/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Now, some non-photo-related thoughts and observations:
* Sara bought a chocolate bar, that, like most things here, had a wrapper that was translated into several languages (to make for easier trans-European sales). But go figure, what we call “Dark Chocolate” and what the French call “Chocolat Noir” the Spanish call “Chocolate Negro.” 'Nuff said. I suppose in America we'd call it "Theobroma Cacao African American," just to be both scientifically and politically correct. It also sounds like an entry on a Letterman Top Ten List of Rejected Ben and Jerry Flavor Names: 10.) Chocolate Negro, 9.) Fun With Fennel, 8.) Lemon Pledge, 7.) Chunks-o-Slim-Jim, 6.) Sawdust Swirl, 5.) Fingernail Chip, 4.) Peas-n-Tuna, 3.) Blue Balls, 2.) I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter!, and 1.) Melgibsonilla. (PS: Yes, I know Letterman actually already did this list, but mine's not bad...)

* We also bought a bag of cheesy chip-like things that were called “Crac’zie.” That sure explains the whole “bet you can’t eat just one!” phenomenon, doesn’t it?

* In a recent debate between Sara and I about the comparative value of a “biscuit-flavored dessert cream” item I’d purchased, I was emphasizing that the damn thing actually tasted remarkably like a “petit beurre” cookie (“biscuit” means “cookie” in French, and “petit beurre” is like the official #1 most beloved store-bought cookie of France, similar in status though not in make-up to Oreos in America), which I thought was both amazing and worthwhile. Sara argued that the “phlegm-y” texture grossed her out. I asserted that “biscuit trumps phlegm-y,” which, as Dave Barry would say and M.S. would appreciate, would be a great band name.

* I love France Info, the 24-hour French radio news network (you can listen live online at www.france-info.com). One recent story actually involved the theft of 9000 Euros (or $11,700) worth of cheese. Even the French newsreaders recognized the absurdity of this, mentioning that a few cheese knives were also stolen, possibly in case the evildoers wanted a snack on the road. (N.E., help me out here, I know there must be a fantastic pun in this somewhere, but I’m blanking…)

* Fun Ipod Moment: While walking down the Rue Mouffetard (aka “The Mouffe,” a literally millennia-old steep and narrow street today filled mainly with touristy restaurants), what came on the Ipod but…the Magnum, P.I. theme. Between its irresistible, energizing vintage catchiness and the fact that Sara and I had seen “Rocky Balboa” recently, I have to admit that I felt projected into some kind of crazy, Euro-fey, reverse downhill version of the famous stairs/museum training scene. I resisted jumping triumphantly in the air, fists pumping above my head, when I got to the bottom of the hill. I did instantly sprout a thick, cheesy moustache (don’t worry, the Berthillon caramel au beurre sale ice cream is so good it instantly shaved it off for me) and felt the lingering need to call people “Huggy-Bear.” Oh wait, that's Starsky and Hutch. Never mind.

* Still on the Ipod theme, are you convinced, like I am, that your Ipod’s “shuffle” feature doesn’t actually create a random scramble, and that instead the damn thing plays favorites? We’re not alone. Check out these two articles (though I still don’t buy the explanation) http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6854309/site/newsweek/ http://www.wired.com/news/culture/0,1284,68893,00.html

Well, with the last two blog entries being death-slogs in terms of length, I’d better cut this short here. But stay tuned for another blog entry within a couple of days, and more vignettes shortly thereafter.

Josh