Pictures

As promised, here are 2 pictures from my recent travels. First, my caravan in the Sahara (I'm the second on the right), and second, the ancestral abandoned house in a Polish village that I referred to in my earlier post. I have plenty of other photos of Morocco and Poland (not to mention Scotland and France), including of my new favorite city in Europe, Krakow. If you want to see any of them, shoot me an e-mail.

I'm Home

I'm back stateside, and it's good to be home. I don't want to bore you with my travel itinerary, but I will just use this opportunity to relay a few stories from my vacation (once I get my pictures organized, I may update this to include a few).

First, Morocco. If you're looking to visit an Arab nation for the first time (and I don't mean a mega-rich Gulf state), Morocco is a good place to start -- mostly friendly people, a pro-Western government, and no history of violent extremism. There is poverty, of course, but I did not see the overwhelming poverty that you associate with many parts of the Third World, and I was not panhandled once. The streets of Fes do provide a little culture shock, though. Fes is an incredible city -- it was the imperial capital and supposedly one of the world's largest cities in the Middle Ages. It's not as heavily touristed as Marrakech, Casablanca, etc., so it provided the authentic experience I was looking for. There are few things like being awakened for the first time by the Muslim call to prayer broadcast on loudspeakers from the nearest mosque. The old city, where I stayed, retains a medieval flavor, as there are no cars inside the walls and donkeys are used to transport goods and the streets are a confusing warren of alleys and dead-ends.

My time there was mostly problem-free and I had a good time bargaining for a new briefcase (I ended up with a 40% discount). I may have still paid a little too much for it, but the haggling experience gave me a story that was probably worth more than the extra price I paid. I must add, though, that of the 12 Westerners I met, 3 had their cameras stolen and 2 were subjected to some fairly serious threats. In retrospect, it was probably just bluster, but unnerving nonetheless.

For me, the only annoyance was the teenage boys who wanted to be my guide walking around the old city. There would be a fee, of course, and from what I understand, all they do is take you to shops where they get a commission on sales (and of course, your price, post-haggling, is that much higher). In order to confuse them, I wore an Italian football jersey, which led to some trying to talk to me in Italian. I turned them all down politely, but there were 2 who stuck with me and 2 American friends of mine for about 30 minutes. After 20 minutes, I was about ready to give in when one said, "We'll stop hassling you if you pay us." Obviously, I could not pay at that point. We ducked into a museum and lost them.

On our tour of Morocco, we spent one night taking a camel for about 90 minutes out into the dunes of the Sahara to sleep in a tent. My camel was remarkably friendly and trouble-free. And I don't think I have ever seen the stars as bright as they were in the desert sky.

After Morocco, I went to Poland. Next time, I would just skip Warsaw and head immediately to Krakow. Warsaw is all post-1945 Communist construction, but Krakow was not bombed during the war and the old city is amazing. Auschwitz is nearby and, obviously, is an overwhelmingly powerful experience.

I hired a driver for one day to take me out to some very rural parts of southeastern Poland looking for the hometowns of my maternal grandparents. It's a poor area and it's easy to see why many Polish-Americans, including current immigrants, come from that region. There are some nice modern houses being built, but the pre-war houses that still stand are more like log cabins, or even shacks. My driver was an intrepid fellow and had absolutely no shame in asking any old person we found (there didn't seem to be any over 65, though) if they knew anything about my family. One pointed us to a house that had been abandoned for about 25-30 years and belonged to my great-great-grandmother's family. Who knows if she had actually ever been in it, but walking inside it, I did feel like this was what I had come for.

Something to Listen to While I'm on Vacation

Today was my last day on-site at the client's office, though I will continue to assist them from Chicago. I'm about to head out to a farewell dinner, but wanted to let my faithful (and much appreciated) readers know that I will now be using the vacation time my client is contractually obligated to pay for, beginning by spending the next 5 days in Morocco, going from Fes to Marrakech in a 5-person tour. The highlight will likely be taking a camel out into the Sahara and spending a night in a tent. Then I will be in Poland for 4 days, going from Warsaw to Krakow and then east to just shy of the Ukrainian border, tracking down the hometowns of my maternal grandparents and great-grandparents. Depending on my internet access, I may or may not update this blog before I return to the States. At some point, though, there will be at least one final post when I get home before I shut the blog down, in which I will bore you with pictures and some final thoughts.

On another topic, over the past few years, I've developed a hobby of writing music that is completely unmarketable. A few of you whom I have (literally) forced to listen to it are already aware of this. Being here for 6 months without a piano has unfortunately curtailed this and hopefully has not irreparably damaged my already limited skills. Anyway, since I won't be posting for a while, I thought I'd end this with a few samples.

# 1

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# 5

Offered Without Comment

From this week's Time:

How We Became the United States of France

The Elysee Palace

Unlike the White House, the French presidential residence, the Elysee Palace, is not routinely open to visitors. It is open to the public on just 2 days a year -- and those days were this weekend. I braved the crowds and showed up 45 minutes before it opened this morning, only to find a huge line. I stood in line for 3:45 before actually entering the building. Perhaps if it were open to visitors a little more often, this wouldn't happen.

The scene wasn't quite like Andrew Jackson's 1829 inauguration, but around the 3:00 mark, the crowd did get a little pushy. I will say, though, that unlike the White House tour, you get to see a lot more of the Elysee Palace. You can walk past the president's cars, see the room where his Council of Ministers (equivalent to our Cabinet) meets, and even go into his office. Unfortunately, M. and Mme. Sarkozy were nowhere in sight, but here is a picture of his office. It looks fairly 18th Century, but there is a big flat-screen TV just outside of camera range.

Things Overheard in a Restaurant

I never intend to eavesdrop, but sometimes I can't help it. Maybe I'm standing next to a pop icon or maybe I'm in France and hear people speaking in English. In those cases, I can't help but overhear. And it's nice to hear Americans -- I seem to be running into them more often these days than in the spring, when the dollar was weaker.

Tonight, I went out for my weekly nice French meal. Seated in the American sector of the restaurant, there was a 50-something couple nearby. They were apparently art dealers, he from Texas and she from France. I heard him discussing politics, saying, "McCain would be better at foreign affairs. He was a soldier -- he knows war. He will get us out of war." I was floored. After all, McCain is the candidate who sang "Bomb, Bomb, Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Iran" to the tune of "Barbara Ann" at one of his town hall meetings, seems to be itching for a new cold war with Russia, and made that poorly-worded 100 years comment.

Maybe it was the wine I was drinking, but I was about to abandon my mild-mannered persona and introduce myself, when I heard him continue. He expressed a sincere concern for Sen. Obama's safety should he be elected, and then said that McCain could also be a target. "We've got some crazy women and they would do anything to see a woman become president." This was even more of a surprising comment than the first. Granted, he lived through the days of Squeaky Fromme and I did not, but this was a very novel motive for assassination. After Gov. Palin's recent comment on a "Palin-McCain administration," I think the only woman with a gun Sen. McCain has to fear is ... well, I won't say it.

Anyway, after hearing this comment, I returned to my dinner and paid them no further attention.

The Motorcycle Taxi

My client's in-house counsel does some semi-pro motorcycle racing on the weekends and one of his friends operates a motorcycle taxi service. Having led a relatively sheltered life and never having ridden on one, he ordered one for me today to pick me up at the airport after a day-trip.

The driver had been told that I had never been on a motorcycle and greeted me by saying "Welcome to life." I found this both funny and a little disconcerting. With Buena Vista Social Club playing on the in-helmet speakers, I climbed aboard and off we went. We went about 80 mph on the rural freeway, but where the service really demonstrated its use was in going between cars that were stuck in a rush hour traffic jam once we got closer to the city. I could see a real appeal for this on the Kennedy Expressway, which during rush hour is at least 1 hour (often longer) from downtown to O'Hare, but I will leave this idea for a new business venture to some other entrepreneur.

Outsourcing

You know you're not in America anymore when you turn on the evening news, as I did last night, and see a panel discussion with the title "Capitalism: An Outdated Model?" I don't think you'll see that on World News Tonight with Charlie Gibson.

There is a saying I've heard that is applicable to the economic news du jour: everyone wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die. We enjoyed cheap credit, but we didn't want to have to pay for it. Well, eventually the budget deficit, the trade deficit, the weak currency, the oil shock, creative accounting, the real estate bubble, and credit card debt were going to exact their revenge. The problem is I'm fairly sure not all of those excesses have come home to roost yet. In 5 years, collapses like Fannie Mae and Lehman Brothers will be seen as necessary purges to put the economy on firmer ground. It doesn't feel so great now. I know -- I just looked at my 401(k).

When I think of my current gig, what has really happened is that I am a recipient of an outsourced job. Just as there are a lot of call center operators in Bangalore these days, there are a lot of lawyers in America. The advice I am providing my client could be given by a French lawyer or a UK lawyer. What I am doing does not involve US law. I have some experience with similar issues, which is largely why I am here, but there are certainly UK lawyers with similar experience, and probably some French lawyers too (and they probably speak better French than I do). But there isn't a surplus of French lawyers, and since the hiring and firing process is a bit cumbersome here, it was easier to import a US lawyer on short notice to advise on a discrete issue. Plus, I think they were all expecting someone straight from a script of Boston Legal. It's popular here, but unfortunately I have failed to provide them with any Shatner-esque buffoonery.

More to the point, given the state of the dollar, I'm cheaper than a less experienced UK lawyer. In fact, this is the second assignment I have had in a year where I worked on a European matter at least partly because it was less expensive for the client to use a US lawyer (although the other matter did not require travel). You can judge for yourself whether it's a good thing that the US has so many lawyers that it now exports them to the rest of the world. I, however, am doing my small part to essentially earn money overseas and bring it home. And our trade deficit just shrank by 0.00001%.

Fun with Google Searches

I commented before on the first Google search term to bring a new reader to this blog: chicken shack. Since then, there have been several others, from various countries, few of whom were likely satisfied by what they found here (or perhaps understood what they had stumbled upon).

The following are the funniest examples of Google search terms people have used to find this site:

Geopolitical ramifications: That term will lead you to this post. In fact, last week, this blog was the #1 result on Google for that phrase. This was truly scary. I have since fallen to #9.

Where to buy veal kidney in New Orleans: That search led someone to this post. Unfortunately, I cannot offer tips on where to buy veal kidney in New Orleans. As a result of my repeatedly writing "veal kidney in New Orleans", though, I now expect to draw even more Google searchers for that to this website.

Northernmost tree: That term led two different people to this post. This may have been of some use to those readers. I would add that according to Wikipedia, palm trees can be found as far north as Ireland, but what I found in Scotland was north of Ireland. Take that, Wikipedia!

"Let the Sun Shining" Hair: That search brought someone to this post. Thus, if I have taught one person the correct name of the song, this blog will have served its purpose.

I had several searches for Sarah Palin, Palin McCain, Palin vice president, etc. that brought people here. They probably didn't like what they found.

The French Workplace

After being here for a total of 5 months, I've picked up on a few differences between working in France and America.

1. Etiquette. If you pass someone in the hall you have never seen before, you must say "Bonjour." If you are on the elevator with a stranger you say hello when you get on and "have a good day" when you get off. If you sit down with your co-workers to eat lunch, you wait for everyone to arrive, and then say "Bon appetit."

2. Hours. Contrary to what you might believe, people do work very hard. Often, people stay at the office late -- and given what lawyers often think of what it might be like to work "in house," I was surprised. That said, people have to work longer hours so they can take those long vacations and long lunch and coffee breaks.

3. Farewell parties. Two weeks ago, one my co-workers left us for another division of this large company. We each chipped in to buy a card and gift. To my consternation, she invited all of us to a party in our office, for which she supplied the food and drink (and there was a lot of the latter). I was embarrassed that she took this duty upon herself, but I was assured by everyone that this was quite normal -- when a person leaves the office, they organize the party. I told them that when I leave, they will be in charge of my party. Hopefully, there will still be one.

4. Greetings. Every morning, the people who have offices near me come in unannounced, smile, shake my hand, ask how I am doing, and leave. At first, I thought this might be because I have just moved to a top-floor corner office with a balcony that I share with a co-worker and they want to check it out (honestly, as impressive as the office sounds, I think there were several permanent employees angling for it, and in order to avoid having to make a decision, it is temporarily mine until I leave). Or maybe I'm just that popular. But neither of those are the reason - they do this with every office until they reach their own. If I did this in Chicago, I think people's general reaction would be that I am mentally deranged.

5. Clothing. Needless to say, I had to step my game up a notch here. My fashion sense, formerly and accurately described as clueless, can now be described as "He's trying."

A Soft Drink You Won't Find at Dominick's

I bought a 2-liter bottle of Mirimba orange pop* at Franprix, the ubiquitous mainstream French grocery chain. When I put it in my refrigerator, I realized the other side of the label (pointed away from the aisle on the grocery shelf) is in Arabic.

A well-read co-worker of mine claims that the combination of Muslim immigrants, declining Christian (i.e., Catholic) belief, and trends in birth rates will soon result in Islam being the #1 religion in France. That doesn't mean Muslims will be a majority of the entire population -- agnosticism or atheism would be well in front. Still, it's an interesting statistic. And it's too interesting a statistic to check to see if it's true before I finish writing this post -- just don't cite me as a reference for its veracity.

The multi-ethnicity of France fits with the nation's ethos better than it would in most other European countries. As long as you subscribe to liberte, egalite, and fraternite, you can be French, no matter where you are from. As a former colonial power, there are a lot of north Africans here (and more in Marseille) and west Africans too. As in the US, the native French are struggling a bit with the concept of their declining majority and exactly how much cultural assimilation should be required. The French have repeatedly rejected the ultra-right anti-immigrant politics of Jean-Marie Le Pen and his ilk, but I wonder if there will ever be a backlash. The economic recession is already here. All they need is Lou Dobbs.

* (I don't drink orange pop; I only have it in case a guest requests it.) ;)

On Small Towns

"I was born in a small town." --John Mellencamp

I love small towns. As probably all of you know, I grew up in one. We've heard a lot about the virtues of small towns the last 10 days, so I thought I should comment, even though this has nothing to do with my 6 months in France.

My town had a population of about 4,000 when I was growing up. A little smaller than Wasilla, but in the same ball park. Of course, we didn't hire a federal lobbyist to bring back $27 million in federal earmarks to our town, but maybe that was our fault. I also don't recall any sales tax increases or massive public debts, but that's another matter. Our mayors weren't paid $64,000 a year either and no one talked about banning books at the public library. The closest thing to secessionist sentiment we had was some people who complained about school district boundaries. So maybe it wasn't that much like Wasilla, but I did play hockey.

Anyway, the mayor when I was a child owned an auto repair shop. Since my dad didn't believe in buying new cars ("a waste of money"), we had a lot of used cars and various trucks for my dad's businesses that needed constant attention. We were probably the mayor's best customer. He was a nice man and a very good mechanic. I never attended City Council meetings, so my memories of him veer more towards the vocational than the political, but I think he would be the first to tell you his mayoralty should not be considered training for the vice presidency, let alone the presidency.

The next mayor was the grandfather of one of my best friends. Very nice man. His wife would take the plums from our plum trees and make the best plum jam you ever tasted. I think he would agree that 20 months after his mayoralty ended, no matter how he spent those 20 months, he would not have been sufficiently prepared for the vice presidency, let alone the presidency.

Make no mistake, there is elitism in America. There are New Yorkers who believe there is nothing west of the Hudson River. There are those who consider "flyover country" to be a cultural wasteland. We hear a lot about that elitism. There is also a reverse elitism. There are those in "Middle America" who find the coasts to be completely alien and even dangerous and believe only their America is the "Real America".

Thus, when I hear paeans to small towns and "small town values," such as we heard last week, I scratch my head. I loved growing up in a small town. I'm glad I did. The people there are at least as intelligent as those in the city. But people are just as decent in the big city as they are in the small towns. And if by "small town values" the speakers mean to say values are different outside of small towns, I wish they would be specific, because I really don't know what they are talking about. I spent 17 years in a small town and 14 years in cities, and Americans in both places care about education, ethics, and what I summarize as "people before things". Country first? That's a patriotic sentiment, but it's probably tied with family first. Yes, there are some people motivated by greed or obsessed with gossip, but my experience is that those traits are universal.

Unless there is some earth-shattering development, I think this will be the last thing I have to say about Gov. Palin for a while (though I have to say that Google searches for her do drive traffic to this blog). The news cycle moves so fast these days, I'm already tired of her. She will have to demonstrate that she is ready to be president in January. This requires more than reading someone else's speech off a teleprompter, knowing how to sell a misleading zinger, or repeatedly lying about your opposition to the Bridge to Nowhere. Maybe her study sessions with McCain aides will get her through a TV interview -- we'll see. What I don't want to hear is that being from a small town (even one close to Russia) or small town values are a valid prerequisite to the highest office in the land. That is just plain elitist.

On Adventures and Inconveniences

I don't watch The Hills (I swear!), but I read a review of The Hills in The New Yorker. I know that sounds like a joke, but it's absolutely true. Anyway, I understand there was a character who worked at a magazine in L.A. and was offered the opportunity to spend 6 months at the magazine's Paris office. She declined (probably because she would have been off the show, I suppose). Her boss responded, "You'll always be known as the girl who turned down Paris."


When I read that, I thought of myself, of course. Having the opportunity to spend 6 months in Paris and to work on an interesting matter was a no-brainer. That said, there have been inconveniences. G.K. Chesterton wrote that an inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered. When you look at it that way, then my original shoebox of an apartment was an adventure. The fact that my washing machine still doesn't work in my new apartment is an adventure. Obtaining a French visa is an adventure. Living in a place where you arrive without speaking the language and knowing practically no one is an adventure. Under those circumstances, buying groceries started out as an adventure. Basically, every day is an adventure.


Generally speaking, we are better off when we can maximize the number of our choices. This, after all, is one way of describing the difference between rich and poor: the rich have more choices and do what they can; the poor have few choices and accept what they have to. That said, we live in a world where we can be given a lot of choices that don't matter too much: 500 satellite TV channels; 15 fast-food restaurants in 2 blocks, etc. Being here, in a way, lessened my choices -- given my limited language skills and lack of contacts, there were only so many things I could do. That said, the choices I made at home ended up being so familiar and routine, and the choices I've made here have, by necessity, been radically different. At my worst, I can be someone who waits for life to happen to me. This experience forced me outside of my comfort zone, and for that adventure, I am grateful.

The World's Northernmost Palm Tree?

I spent Labor Day weekend driving around western Scotland with a childhood friend of mine who now works in Germany. I probably should have gone there 3 weeks ago, because as great as the Highlands are, they are not as exciting when you have just been to the Alps. That said, the people were very nice and there is plenty to see. Plus, the hotel had a free whisky tasting, where once I mentioned I was a lawyer to another guest, I was treated to a very long story about the man's "most recent" divorce, which his current wife did not seem to appreciate. If I had a dime for every divorce story I hear from complete strangers when they find out I am a lawyer ...

I have attached two photos. The first may or may not be the world's northernmost palm tree. We spotted palm trees up the western Scottish coast as far north as Fairlie, which lies at a latitude of 55° 45′ N, slightly north of Ketchikan, Alaska. They are not native to the area, but they survive in the very wet climate. Everytime I saw one, I would say, "The world's northernmost palm tree," which now that I think of it, was probably a little annoying of me.

The second picture is an optical illusion. For reasons not entirely clear to me, the surrounding hills make this appear to be an uphill slope on A719 south of Ayr, when in fact it is slightly downhill from where I stood taking the picture towards the background. We put the car in neutral and it rolled "uphill." This phenomenon is known as the Electric Brae, because it was originally, and mistakenly, thought to be caused by an electric or magnetic force. It was a weird sensation, to say the least.

I'm back to work in Paris now and trying to complete as many projects as I can here before my probable farewell at the end of September.

It's Palin. Really?

Apparently, John McCain will pick Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin as his running mate. You may recall I named her as a person he should not pick. It does show, however, that McCain and his campaign decided they had to do something extraordinary, and not make a safe choice. If they really thought they had a 50/50 shot at winning this election, they would not have chosen someone who two years ago was mayor of a town of 8,000 people and for less than two years has been governor of one of our smallest states. Rather, they decided that in order to win they need to peel off people who supported Hillary Clinton in the Democratic primary.

I do not want to sound crass when I write this, but it is the simple truth: actuarially speaking, whomever the candidates actually chose, John McCain's VP was always more likely to become president than Barack Obama's. This person's readiness should be a major issue on the minds of voters. I think it is fairly hard to argue Barack Obama is not ready to be president when your VP has so thin a resume.

Palin brings some significant advantages: an attractive mother of 5 (the youngest has Down's Syndrome), she was elected governor as a reformer, and will be a popular pick among conservatives. That reputation is tarnished somewhat by allegations she used her influence to try to fire a state trooper who was her ex-brother-in-law (UPDATE: as well as firing the head of the state police).

It is a high risk for McCain that is either brilliant or will seriously hurt his candidacy. It theoretically will bring excitement in the form of an outside-the-Beltway female conservative that bolsters McCain's "maverick" credential. If, however, Democrats can define her in the next 48 hours as unprepared to be a heartbeat away from the presidency (and maybe ethically compromised), then she may have a difficult task ahead.

(Sept. 2 UPDATE). I have been away for the last few days and not following the story closely, but it seems to me that her daughter's pregnancy should be a non-issue. Rather, her connections to the Alaskan Independence Party (which calls for a secession vote for Alaska and the takeover of federal land) and her original support for the Bridge to Nowhere should be the two most serious problems she faces. If the media does its job and focuses on them instead of her family issues, this should dominate the news coverage. Just imagine if Sen. Obama once expressed the slightest bit of support for Hawaiian independence (or did any of a myriad of other things the media has not yet sufficiently called McCain on)? Rush Limbaugh could run on auto-pilot.

CSI: Paris

A co-worker of mine had his home in a very nice exurb of Paris burglarized last week. I guess the criminal element here does not take a vacation in August. Computers and electronic equipment were stolen. Thankfully, no one was home when it happened.

In breaking a window to enter the home, the thief left some blood at the scene of the crime. A great clue, right? Well, the police said that the prosecutor will have to decide if it is worth the 500 € expense ($750) to perform a simple DNA test to see if there is a match in the database of criminals (and, for that matter, to put this DNA on file). Needless to say, it was fairly shocking to me -- and to the victim -- that there is even a question whether or not to perform this test.

While Sarkozy was running for president, his son's scooter was stolen. With help from fingerprints and DNA tests, the culprits were found. It was a mini-scandal for the campaign that Sarkozy's son got such special treatment, and now I have a better understanding why.

It's Biden

There are plenty of predictions I've gotten wrong over the years, but this is my blog, so I will point out the rare occasion when I actually called it. You won't see me re-posting my "Kerry Will Win" prediction or my "Drake Bulldogs to the Sweet 16" prediction here. (But this one was pretty close.)

Picking Biden means there may be 1 or 2 days during the campaign where he says something off-script. And he won't deliver a state. But he doesn't need to be introduced to the American people and he reassures older voters, particularly Catholics and non-urbanites in the belt from Scranton to Dubuque.

I don't consider the fact that Sen. Obama has been in the Senate for less than a full term a problem; obviously, his judgment has been proven right time and again -- particularly in foreign affairs. But the word "inexperience" has become the all-purpose crutch for those unwilling to support Obama for non-ideological reasons, whether they are upset Hillary lost, are scared of change, believe whatever their second cousin e-mails them, or whatever else. Like the other VP candidates with long resumes (Nunn or Daschle), Biden provides an answer to that on paper. More than those other guys, though, Biden will respond with a flourish. Ultimately, as an Obama supporter, I think he's the right choice because over the last week, it's become apparent that Obama needs a counter-puncher who is more comfortable on the attack than Obama himself. As a political junkie, I'm thinking that after the shallowness of recent weeks, this campaign could actually get rather fun.

The Business Lunch

On my first day as a summer associate at my law firm in 1999, my mentor took me out to lunch and we each had a beer. Apart from some celebratory lunches following cases that had been won in the morning (and no work was expected in the afternoon), that was the last time I had alcohol at lunch on a work day until I arrived in France.


On my first day at the office here, I immediately noticed that the client's cafeteria serves beer and wine at lunch. I rarely see anyone drinking there at lunch, but if you are out at a restaurant on a business lunch, it is de rigueur. This is what usually happens when my client and I are out to lunch before an afternoon meeting outside the office:


Him (to the waiter): "2 glasses of champagne, please."


Me (internal monologue): Champagne? Why are we celebrating? We haven't had the meeting yet.


Him (to me): "Do you want wine?"


Me: "This is going to be an important meeting, but, OK, I can have a glass."


Him (to the waiter): "We will have a bottle of ..."


It doesn't matter where we are -- recently we were at a pub in London and to celebrate a positive development, he ordered champagne.

Once, I committed a faux pas by turning down the champagne before lunch, already knowing that we would be splitting a bottle of wine during the meal and thinking of all that had to be accomplished that afternoon.


I have to admit, though, that nothing terrible has yet happened after one of these lunches, but I do not think this is a custom I will bring home with me.

Chamonix & How to Be a Conspicuous Tourist

This was a 3-day weekend in France and I used the opportunity to take my 5th weekend trip away from Paris (but first since I started blogging) to the town of Chamonix at the foot of Mont Blanc at the border with Switzerland and Italy. Chamonix was the home of the first Winter Olympics and is known both for its skiing and the opportunities for various daredevil sports. At the risk of annoying you with vacation itineraries, here is what happened.

The trip takes 6 hours and 3 different trains, which is probably good preparation for The Amazing Race. The final leg is on the "Mont Blanc Express" which is quite the misnomer. It seemed to stop wherever there were more than 5 buildings and went so slowly I think you could have walked along the track, flagged it down, and it would have stopped for you.

Chamonix is a great place, though. I'm not a skiier (which is why I was visiting in August), but it seemed to be a ski town that was accommodating to both the student traveller/backpacker types and to the wealthy, not to mention those in between.

The highlight of the trip was taking the suspended cable car "flying" up from the town (elevation 3,500 feet) to an elevation of 12,600 feet for a close-up view of Mont Blanc. The ride up there was not harrowing and it was fairly amazing, but when our ascent stopped for about 5 seconds, everyone on that car had to be wondering if we were about to start sliding back down the cable and if the ticket sellers had put a few too many people on that trip. For all I know, the pause was probably just done for effect.

After going to all the various look-out spots and taking pictures, I took the cable car half-way back to town, down to about 7,500 feet. At that point, I took a 2.5 hour mostly horizontal hike from just above the tree line to just below it. This is called the "Grand Balcon du Nord" trail. It is fairly wide in most spots, and it is not that difficult a hike, as evidenced by the fact that I did it, but there are no rails or ropes to hang on to. The most difficult part is a 20-minute optional portion where you go up at least 600 feet, but it is worth it for the feeling of accomplishment. At the end of the 2.5 hour hike, you can either descend to town on foot or by train, and I was ready for a nap, so I took the train.

On the 3rd and final leg of my train trip back to Paris today, on the high-speed train from Lyon, I was seated with a 60-something American couple and their English relatives touring France. I wasn't going to say anything, but when the lady asked her husband if the train was non-stop and he didn't know, she pointed to me, and said "Ask him," assuming I was French. While it could have been very funny to wait for this man to try to ask me in French, and then for me to see how long I could impersonate a French person, he looked mortified to ask me, so I told her myself in English. They were all very nice people, but they kept correcting themselves to speak more quietly. It reminded me of when I was in Paris as a tourist in 2001 and immediately after arriving, I met a friend and we were on the Metro when he told me I was talking too loud, and I'm sure I was. It is never a good idea to be too conspicuous as a tourist, if no other reason than it is very hard to explain why your T-shirt says "Tennessee Volunteers" to someone in France -- it doesn't translate easily to those unfamiliar with the mascots of the Southeastern Conference. Anyway, at some point one person in that party asked if Michael Phelps had won his 8th gold, and when told that he had, this person shouted "Yay, USA" so everyone on board could hear. Probably not a shining moment in Franco-American relations.

The 3 attached photos show the cable car, a view from the top looking down on some skiiers, and a picture taken during my hike.

Watching the Olympics

France won its first gold medal (but 11th overall) of the Games today in wrestling, which was about the last sport for which I imagined the French could win a medal, along with baseball and table tennis.

I don't offer this as a criticism, but I had noticed over the years that you never see a medal ceremony broadcast on American TV unless the Americans won the gold medal. Obviously, I don't know if it's the same this year, but every 4 years, this has meant missing out on great national anthems, like Finland's. (Just kidding, I have never heard the Finnish national anthem before, probably because they don't play it on American TV during the Olympics.)

Well, I can report that the French don't show any medal ceremonies until they win the gold medal either. They do have a good anthem, though.

The main difference between the French and US broadcasts is what sports are emphasized. I have seen a lot of fencing this week, some kayaking, and a fair bit of judo. No gymnastics or basketball, but a lot of swimming, as Michael Phelps' stardom has made its way over here. It is nice to see some of the lesser-known events get their moment in the spotlight, if only because those happen to be the sports where the French are winning some medals.

A Blogging Statistic That Will Only Interest Me

I subscribe to a neat free service that tells me if anyone visits my blog via a search engine. In the last month, I've had over 120 hits (it's probably just one person who keeps hitting "refresh" only to see I only post something 2 or 3 times a week), but only one via a search engine. So what term did a stranger type into Google to find this little corner of the Web?

Chicken Shack.

Yes, Chicken Shack. Careful readers will recall I referred to the haute cuisine of Hyde Park, Harold's Chicken Shack, in my post on the Monsieur Lapin restaurant. A few days ago, someone in Moscow -- yes, that is correct -- typed "Chicken Shack" into Google and found that posting, which I doubt was of much assistance. So to my Russian reader, I say приветствовать. (Welcome.)

Veepstakes: The Predictions

Feel free to skip this if you are looking for a semi-funny anecdote about France, but political predictions are a hobby of mine, and I feel a need to write this quickly before actual events overtake me. For both candidates, here are my thoughts on: 1) someone who is supposedly on the short list for VP, but should not be chosen; 2) whom I think they actually will select; and 3) whom I would choose if I were in their position.


McCain

Whom I would avoid: Fmr. OH Rep. Rob Portman; AK Gov. Sarah Palin. Portman is frequently listed as one of McCain's top 3 choices, but I have no idea why. As someone who has had a Cabinet-level appointment in the Bush Administration, he would make it easier for Democrats to pin the Bush years on McCain. If he could carry Ohio, that might be worth it, but the man once represented 1/18 of the state in Congress -- I don't think that will swing the state. As for Palin, she could be impressive, but McCain can't select someone who has held office for a shorter period than Obama -- that would undercut McCain's best argument.


Whom he will select: The smart money, and just the moderately intelligent money, is on Mitt Romney. No one would make a more positive Electoral College map impact than Romney who could affect 4 swing states: MI, NH, NV, and maybe CO. My gut feeling is that the personal chemistry just isn't there and ultimately McCain will realize he needs to make a surprise pick (see below), but there's a reason why they call it the smart money, and I can't come up with a more plausible name. (How's that for having it both ways?) Or this is all wrong, and he selects MN Gov. Tim Pawlenty.


Whom I would select, but he won't: McCain currently trails nationwide by about 4-5 points. This is a particularly dangerous margin for him, because it allows his campaign to think they are within striking distance and don't need to make any bold moves, when in fact, I think he's more of an underdog than polls currently show. The funding and enthusiasm disparities don't show up in these early polls. More importantly, Obama's main weakness -- people wondering if he's ready -- really can only decrease at this point (or at worst, stay the same), because as they watch the campaign for the next several months, those doubters will have several opportunities to get more comfortable with the idea of Obama as president. I believe McCain, whether or not he knows it yet, needs to do something dramatic to change the course of the campaign. One way is to pick a pro-choice candidate like NY Mayor Mike Bloomberg, former PA Gov. Tom Ridge, or best of all, Colin Powell (if he's not for Obama). Assuming he cannot do that due to party politics, I would pick a woman -- MI Rep. Candice Miller (and a former statewide elected official). Of course, absolutely no one is talking about her.


Obama

Whom I would avoid: Former GA Sen. Sam Nunn. It is tempting to pick an old Washington hand to be a benevolent Dick Cheney to an outsider president, but Sam Nunn just makes it look like overcompensating.


Whom he will select: For weeks, I've gone back and forth between IN Sen. Evan Bayh & DE Sen. Joe Biden. Bayh could be an olive branch to Hillary supporters, he highlights generational change, and he could tip Indiana. But, he was a vocal supporter of the Iraq War (at the beginning) and the Dems would probably lose his Senate seat. When I started writing this, I was about to say it would be Bayh, but I've flip-flopped again back to Biden. A strong debater with working class appeal, his only drawback is potentially undercutting Obama's "change" theme. Ultimately, though, I've decided that Obama represents enough change in and of himself, and doesn't need a VP pick to reinforce that. And to throw another name out there, while Obama probably is not considering any dark horse candidates at this point, one who would "check off" a lot of boxes (Catholic, experienced, economic expertise, not in DC right now, from the Clinton wing) is Leon Panetta. There, I've given 3 names, but I will say it will be Biden ... for now.


Whom I would select, but he won't: I will give two names out of left field. First, many believe that Obama needs to select someone with long years of service to reassure the public that the Obama-YYYY ticket is ready to govern. The drawback, as discussed with Biden, is that this may undercut the central campaign message of changing Washington. Who has Washington experience, but yet retains something of an outsider image/independent appeal, and not to mention has already been fully vetted? Former NJ Sen. Bill Bradley. Plus, an Obama-Bradley ticket would be the best basketball duo in the history of presidential campaigns.

My second name is Warren Buffett. Yes, that's really out of left field, but he's a Democrat, and there are few people more respected on the economy, not to mention in general, in the country. How would he handle a VP debate? I don't have to answer that, because there's no way anyone is actually considering this.

OK, in a few weeks I will likely have some egg on my face, but I think I have listed enough names here that there is at least a 25% chance that I get something right.

Any disagreements, trial balloons, or prop bet offers are welcome in the comments section.

Mr. Rabbit

*Warning* My vegetarian friends may not want to read this post.

It was a good day at the office. I can't talk about my work. Whoops, wrong link. This is the correct one. But I can say that when I have a good day, I want to have a good French meal. The microwaveable meals here are better than those at home, but I feel a little silly living in Paris and eating TV dinners every night. I have a list of traditional French restaurants in the neighborhood that are recommended in various places on the internet and I intend to try them all out before I leave. I walked by several tonight, but they were closed for the month (see my previous post), so I ended up at Monsieur Lapin.

That translates to Mr. Rabbit. Walking in, it reminded me somewhat of one of my old haunts when I lived on the South Side of Chicago in law school: Harold's Chicken Shack. There is really only one similarity between the two. When you go to Harold's Chicken Shack, there are chickens on the wallpaper, which I always found a little disconcerting, considering the menu. At Monsieur Lapin, there are stuffed rabbits and rabbit-themed art.

In case you hadn't guessed by now, there is a speciality of the house at Monsieur Lapin. I don't know, but I imagine it may be the world's most expensive restaurant specializing in rabbit. It has to at least be in the top 5%. This didn't really concern me -- at last week's French restaurant, my starter was croustillant de pied de porc. That would be pig's foot. (For the record, it's a little fattening.) Plus, I like defying the French waiter's stereotype of what Americans eat. I've ordered andouilette a few times and am usually met with the response, "Do you know what that is?" Come on, they serve it in New Orleans!

This blog is not going to become a restaurant review, but because M. Lapin is unusual, I feel I must report that I began with a starter of rabbit terrine, but decided two courses of rabbit would be a little much, so I had veal kidney for the main course. (OK, I warned you two to stop reading at the beginning.) I do not know why, but it seems to this lay man that French cuisine does have an unusual emphasis on what we would consider the less pleasant parts of livestock. My guess is this is a relic from a time when people really needed to utilize all parts of the animal, but I don't know.

Apparently my French pronounciation is not yet where it needs to be, because tonight after asking for a table for one and saying I did not have a reservation in French, they gave me an English menu. That happens about half of the time. Sometimes, I get seated in what I call "the American sector" with the tourists. Once, I was next to a Swedish couple who had the hardest time trying to order something light from the menu. The man's order of a salad arrived, and the woman somehow confused the waiter into bringing her a plate teeming with sausages and sauerkraut. The 3 of us could not stop laughing. Tonight, I was seated next to a fashion designer from New York who is in town to see her daughter's ballet company perform here. She had been to Des Moines several times, the first when she played one of the Van Trapp daughters in the first national touring production of The Sound of Music. We were talking politics and she asked me to talk about current issues in agricultural policy. I kid you not. Paris can be a good place to make friends, when you know the language you're speaking. And when you're eating veal kidney at Mr. Rabbit, it can be nice to see an American.

A Quiet City

Watching the French take their famous 4 week vacations in the summer is truly something to behold. Somewhere between the start of July and the end of August, all of my co-workers are leaving the city for 3 to 4 weeks. One smart person is delaying his holiday until September, thus allowing him 2 quiet months at the office followed by a month away when everyone else is here. What is not really clear to me is exactly where all these people have gone. A lot are at the Riviera, but I didn't think they could accommodate the entire population of Paris down there.

We are in the heart of the holiday period right now, and you can't walk down a street in my neighborhood without seeing shops, bakeries, and small restaurants with signs on their windows announcing they will re-open at the end of the month. This coincides with noticeably warmer weather, but it hasn't gotten too bad yet, and I enjoy a less crowded and quieter city.

While I cannot take 4 weeks off (and indeed since 75% of my work here involves the Anglophonic world, I am busier right now than I have been in several months), I was able to take advantage of a peculiarity in the 2008 calendar. Both May 1 (Labor Day) and May 8 (what we would call Victory in Europe Day) are national holidays here. This year, both fell on Thursdays, so our office was closed on the following Fridays as well. Better still, the Monday after Pentecost Sunday is a holiday in France. Like Easter, Pentecost is not a fixed date, but this year it happened to be May 11. Thus, I had a 4-day weekend for Labor Day followed by a 5-day weekend for V-E Day and Pentecost.

As for myself, I hope to pull off a 2-week vacation at the end of my stint here (negotiations will soon begin on that). I haven't had more than 1 week off at a time since I joined the workforce 7 years ago, and never thought I would have the chance to take 2 weeks off until paternity leave, which is probably not particularly imminent.

Making Commuting Bearable

I have long said that if Chicago wants to get the Olympics in 2016, it will have to completely refurbish the CTA. Spending time abroad only confirms that. Despite both systems being roughly the same age, the Paris Metro is leaps and bounds ahead of the CTA:

1) With 14 train lines, I have yet to find a place in the city that is more than a 10 minute walk from a station, though there probably are some on the city's outskirts. (The picture is of my nearest station, Mouton Duvernet. As you can tell by the lack of foliage, I didn't take the picture.)

2) During rush hour, you never have to wait more than 2 minutes for a train. The longest you might have to wait on a weekend is 7 minutes, if you're unlucky enough to arrive at a station right after a train left.

3) Despite the weak dollar, it's still a little cheaper.

4) No embarrassing accidents (at least that I have heard of).

5) Despite Chicago being a far cleaner city than Paris, and the Metro here not nearly as tidy as, say, Washington DC's subway, the Paris Metro does manage to have slightly cleaner stations than Chicago. In other words, I will occasionally sit down on the benches they provide.

6) The quality of the busking musicians. There may be a few too many accordions in use on the Metro, but this is much, much better than the song and, um, interpretative dance I witnessed on the CTA earlier this year. I would say more, but I am trying to keep this a family-friendly blog.

There is one major drawback in Paris that I have fortunately avoided: strikes. My co-workers were telling me of one particularly annoying kind of strike that the transit workers here have done a few times in the last few years: the afternoon strike. In other words, you take the train to work in the morning, but then can't get home.

Due to geography, politics, and the fact that Brazil is already hosting the 2014 World Cup, I think Chicago has an excellent shot to win the right to host the 2016 Games. I am willing to put up with all the construction, traffic, and annoyances that residents have to suffer if it just means that we finally get a world-class transit system (though I have no idea how they can pay for it).

The Euro (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love to Spend)

If 6 months in France is changing me in any way, it is making me more willing to spend money. I'd like to characterize myself as frugal (others may use less diplomatic terms), but frugality does not last very long when 1 € = $1.60.

The first place you notice it is at the grocery store. My groceries here are roughly twice as expensive as in downtown Chicago (and thus more than twice as expensive as groceries bought in Hyde Park or Iowa). Obviously, some of that is due to the weak dollar, and there is a 5.5% grocery sales tax here.

Dining out is very expensive. A club sandwich at a pub restaurant that looked like a French Bennigan's cost 12 € or about $19. I could probably buy that at home for $9, plus tip. Once a week, I go out for a nice French meal. (The French Bennigan's does not count.) 3 courses and a glass of wine generally costs around 40-45 €. And while I'm not paying my rent here, I know what it costs, and it is about twice as expensive as a comparable Chicago rental apartment.

Eventually, you acclimate to the higher cost of living, so when I go home, I expect I will be much more willing to spend. There are a few things here, though, that are cheaper. First, beer and wine are noticeably less expensive (though not spirits). Second, my company cafeteria, partially subsidized, of course, where for lunch I get a hot meal, vegetables, and dessert for about 4 €. Thus, I actually pay less for a better lunch than I usually get in Chicago. Third, public transportation, which I assume is partially subsidized, and where my monthly Metro pass works out to about 1.20 € per ride, slightly less than the CTA in Chicago.

The Downstairs Neighbors

Some of you may have heard a rumor that my apartment during my first 3 months in Paris was a little petite, as the French say. I like to think of myself as low-maintenance, but life inside a 270 square foot apartment (supposedly -- look below) can be a trying experience.

I'm pleased to report that unlike the first time around, I selected my apartment for the second 3 month stint and it is comparatively spacious (upper right). Yes, it appears to be decorated with leftover sets from a production of South Pacific, but what you see is just the living room, not the kitchen or the bedroom, whereas with the other apartment, you are looking at just about everything but the bathroom.

I now live on what we would call the 5th floor (here, it's considered the 4th) of a 7 story apartment building. There are 2 apartments on each floor. On the ground level are a pharmacy and a mortuary. I'm sure there could be a good joke about that, but I will leave it alone.

A few nights ago, there was a knock at my door. In 7 years of downtown Chicago high-rise living, I had never had someone come to my door whom I was not expecting and I certainly wasn't expecting anyone here. It turned out to be my downstairs neighbor. After we each said "Bonsoir" she began speaking a little too rapidly for me to understand. I heard the words "sign," "insurance," and "water" in French, before I asked her, "Parlez-vous anglais?" Now, the story gets very mundane, as she and her husband needed my apartment's owner to sign something because of some water damage done to their apartment a few months ago, but I will say it turned out to be longer than any conversation I've had with any of my neighbors in my Chicago building in at least 2 years.

The Geopolitical Ramifications of the Eurovision Song Contest

A few months ago, I watched the Eurovision Song Contest on television here. For those unfamiliar with this bizarre annual spectacle, most European nations select an original song to represent them. All the songs are performed over the course of several nights on television broadcasts in all of the countries. Similar to American Idol, people in each country vote for their favorites by calling in, except they cannot choose their own nation's song. Then, each nation's results are announced with the top 10 selections from each country getting points. The song/country with the most total points wins.

Past winners include ABBA and Celine Dion (singing for Switzerland even though she is French Canadian). Many of the entries this year (and, I'm told, for as long as anyone can remember) were kitschy beyond belief. They ranged from the absurdly ridiculous (Ireland) to the ridiculously absurd (Spain); from an on-key Britney Spears wannabe (Greece) to off-key Spice Girls wannabes (Germany).

My favorite was a folk tune from Croatia featuring a 75-year old rapper. Seriously. It was the only one I bought for my iPod, as a souvenir of the 3 hours of my life I would never get back. The winner was Russia. This entry was a little creepy, with an Olympic gold medal figure skater skating in circles around the singer, who I think was pretending to be Enrique Iglesias.

I was astonished by the voting process. First, every country has an equal vote. Thus, San Marino counted for as much as Germany. What does this contest think it is? The US Senate, where Wyoming has the same voting power as California? Second, with few exceptions, the voters of each nation preferred the countries bordering them or for which they had some historical affinity. This benefits Eastern Europe where there are so many small nations and this year it specifically benefited Russia, which got many votes from all the former Soviet republics.

I went to the office the next day expecting to see my French friends upset over the biases in Eurovision voting. It turned out that I was the only one upset, because everyone else was used to it. Yes, it's just a song contest, but what does it say about the European Union when millions of people ignore merit and just vote for their friends and neighbors, no matter how truly awful their song was?

Sen. Obama in Europe

I don't want to write about politics too often here (we'll see how long that lasts), but with Sen. Obama coming to Europe later this week, this gives me the perfect opportunity to disguise a post on politics as a post on Europe & America. Yes, the Europeans love Obama, but they know very little about him. The French will often ask me about the election and whom I am voting for -- even people I just met. They clearly love the idea of Obama, and in their questions for me, they seem to be searching for confirmation that he is what they hope he is, and that America is what they hope it is.

Sometimes I detect a certain surprise or even doubt that the US may actually be more progressive in one respect than Europe. "Is America ready?" they often ask; though what exactly we may be ready for is rarely specified, it is obvious enough. One asked if America was ready to elect a Muslim, which I guess proves that I am not the only person in Paris who reads The New Yorker.

I did get a good laugh over the "controversy" regarding whether the Senator would speak in front of the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. I visited Berlin in 2001 when the Gate was undergoing a multi-year restoration project and it was literally wrapped inside a giant advertisement for T-Mobile. It was rather clever -- if you were on the west side you would look east at the Gate and see a picture of Moscow; on the east side you would look west at pictures of London and NYC; on both sides was a message about how T-Mobile had service worldwide. Now we are told that the Gate is too special a landmark for the Senator to speak in front of -- too bad, I guess it would be different if only he were selling cell phones.

As the focal point of the West's battle with and defeat of Communism, Berlin is the perfect place to give a speech celebrating the ties that bind the US and Europe and to talk about how the US and her allies must work together to defeat a common foe, so I assume that is what we will hear later this week. And since the pundits back home will be carefully listening for any indication that Obama is insufficiently "American", we can safely expect several lines in the speech demanding that Europe do its part. Europe will celebrate the speech and we will see in January if the changes people on both sides of the Atlantic want to see actually begin to take place.

So that's what I think he will say; for me the $64,000 question is: how large will the crowd be?

Want to buy an apartment in Paris?

I was kindly invited to a dinner party last night and during the course of the evening, one of the guests was making a final offer on the purchase of an apartment. The offer was accepted and we had an unexpected cause for celebration. His new home will be in the opposite part of the city from where I live, and as even the proud future owner admitted to me, it is not in the best part of town. I have seen the building, though not the particular apartment, and while it is an improving neighborhood, it is probably the least fashionable part of the city that I have seen.

Don't misunderstand -- it's completely safe and I have seen far, far sketchier parts of American cities, but it is worth noting when I tell you that the price for his 1,000 square foot apartment was approximately $825,000. The weak dollar has something to do with that, but my poorly informed guess would be that a comparably-sized condo in a comparably old building in a comparable part of Chicago would cost about 30% of that. To which a Parisien would likely (and truthfully) respond: well, that apartment is not in Paris.

Prime-Time TV

Every night on French prime time television are two episodes, back-to-back and in English, of the CBS sitcom The New Adventures of Old Christine. I'm not sure how long this will run, because I don't think enough episodes of this show have been made to keep this going at such a break-neck pace. TNAoOC is not a show I would watch on American television. It is about a woman who lives with her 10 year old son and her brother, while her ex-husband and his new girlfriend, also named Christine, come by for mostly pleasant visits every 10 minutes. In short, ALF had a more realistic premise.

This is the kind of show you watch on an airplane, when you have no choice regarding in-flight entertainment, but then find that it's actually not that bad. It's better than average. Then you go home and you never see the show again until you're on another plane.

When you're a visitor to France, though, and this is given to the French public as an ideal representation of the American sitcom, twice every night, (and you're desperate to watch something in English other than CNN International), it practically becomes appointment television.

Bonne Fete Nationale

For some time, I have been looking forward to spending Bastille Day (July 14) in France and it turned out to be a fairly eventful day. First, don't call it Bastille Day. It is the Fete Nationale, and when I would say Happy Bastille Day to friends here, I would get confused looks. So say "Bonne Fete Nationale" instead.

Second, for the day that is essentially equivalent to our 4th of July,the disparity in the public displays of patriotism is striking. To blend in on July 14, I wore 2 of the tricolors of the French flag and found I was wearing 2 more than most people (whereas I would have been one short in America). I saw some buses flying the French flag as they went past, which was unusual, but they also had a European Union flag. I suppose the one nod to nationalism was the annual military parade down the Champs Elysees in the morning. This was a little jarring to an American who generally associates military parades (at least of the post-WWII variety) with the Soviets.

In the evening, there was a free pop concert on the Champ de Mars –the large park extending southeast from the Eiffel Tower. According to the next morning's paper, I attended with 700,000 of my closest friends (and, picking up on a point from above, I only saw one French flag in the crowd). I had never been part of a crowd that large, but it was not as bad as it sounds. Sure, there was a group of 16 year olds mixing screwdrivers next to me, but they were entertaining. I feared how bad the Metro would be going home, and while I did have to wait for several trains packed liked sardines to pass before I could get on a train (and be similarly confined), I was home in one hour, which was certainly good under the circumstances.

As for the concert itself, it wasn't exactly Simon and Garfunkel in Central Park, but it was a decent show. I had only heard of one of the acts before – James Blunt. The rest were French pop singers. I found it a little weird that on what is essentially French Independence Day, we would be treated to some depressing James Blunt songs about how everyone is getting older, sung in English. He must have thought that was weird too, because he did sing one verse of a French pop standard (while reading the lyrics off a page). The crowd gave him the second loudest ovation of the concert, probably because they didn't know who most of the French pop singers were either. If only Johnny Halliday were there. The loudest ovation went to a Joey Lawrence look-a-like who was very popular with the female contingent of my screwdriver aficionado neighbors.

Being ¼ mile from the stage, and watching the acts on big screens gave the impression that everyone was lip synching, and at least some of them surely were. Of course, I would too if I were performing in front of 700,000 people. The lyrics were imposed on giant TV screens, karaoke style, which led to some amusing mistranslations of English lyrics. For example, there was a French rendition of the song from Hair, "Let the Sunshine In", which when the chorus was sung once in English, became "Let the Sun Shining," which does make some weird phonetic sense. The final act was a singer who appeared to be from the 60s (or at least in his 60s) and he sang a medley that concluded with Roy Orbison's "Pretty Woman." Again, not exactly what I was expecting at the Fete Nationale.

Then came the fireworks, which is what I had really come for. With the Eiffel Tower as the backdrop, there was a 45 minute display. Every year, there is a theme (needless to say, I'd never seen a themed fireworks display anywhere else), and as this is the 400th birth-year of Quebec, it began with the music of a Quebecois folk tune broadcast over loudspeakers and a lot of blue fireworks. Then it changed into about 35 minutes of opera music (one verse of Le Marseillaise was sung somewhere in the middle). Seeing 700,000 people listen to over a half hour of opera music is unusual. Sure, it was set to fireworks and it was pop opera (Barcarolle, Summertime, Nessun Dorma), but still. All in all, an impressive show, and my faith in Paris public transportation was again confirmed by the relatively easy ride home.

Girls Just Wanna Have Figs

On my return flight to Paris for the second half of my stay here, I found myself next to a certain 80s pop icon at the gate at O'Hare. We spent about 30 minutes next to one another, and I could not help but overhear snippets of conversation. I'm not proud to say that I took notes, but I did type the following into my Blackberry:

Waiting to board my delayed flight to Paris. XXXXX YYYYYY is next to me at the gate. Seriously. This is a summary of her conversation with a friend and a flight attendant. She loves figs. She cannot stop talking about them. She doesn't want to eat cheese. "It's all fat." No makeup. Black toenail polish. Tattoo of some sort of puma or leopard on left ankle. Now she's saying she doesn't understand how men can spend time away from their children. A digression into men being hunters and gatherers. She hates the way cows and chickens are killed. She just said mushrooms give you "bad dreams." Now we're boarding and my eavesdropping will come to an end.
--------------------------Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

I am pleased to report that the pop icon in question appeared to be as warm and free-spirited as her public image. She looked a good 10 years younger than she really is and it was completely unclear whether that comment about mushrooms was from personal experience or second-hand opinion. Time after time, these icons don't live up to their image, but this one did; in fact her true colors shone through. OK, does that at least partially redeem me for eavesdropping (and drop enough hints for you)?

The Wonders of Modern Air Travel

I don't like it when people complain about airlines. It's so easy to do. Besides, the airlines work on incredibly small (or non-existent) margins, deal with a consistently irritated clientele, and have had a near-perfect safety record (in the US) for years. That said, after having 4 flights in 10 days delayed due to mechanical difficulties, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little concerned about whether any corners are being cut.

While the story I'm about to relate deals with American, I've always felt all airlines are basically the same on these sorts of issues. All airlines occasionally lose luggage and all airlines occasionally have delays, etc. Once, I missed 1 day out of a 7 day Italian vacation due to mechanical problems on United. My recent experience, however, takes the cake.

I was flying on a 2 PM Wednesday flight from O'Hare to Los Angeles a few weeks ago. After sitting on the plane for 2.5 hours while a warning light in the cockpit was being fixed, we were told that everything was OK and we would be taking off. Once we got out to the runway, the pilot brought us back to the terminal as the problem had returned and we were switched to a new plane.

After waiting for all the bags to be moved to the 2nd plane, we took off. 20 minutes into the flight, the pilot said that a light had come on indicating that the plane was "overheating" and though the warning light had since gone off, we would be returning to O'Hare. There, we were met by the Chicago Fire Dept., lights blazing, lined up along side the runway. The plane was not allowed to return to the terminal until the Fire Dept. checked the airplane. To the pilot's credit, he told us not to worry, and that this was a routine procedure. Everyone remained calm.

It was now 7:50 PM when I got off plane #2 in Chicago and with my dinner plans in L.A. out the window, I ran to board an 8 PM flight to L.A. I arrived at around 10:30 and later learned the poor souls on my original flight did not make it there until 1:10 AM. I will say, though, that if you have nothing else to do in Santa Monica at 11:30 PM on a Wednesday night, you can go to the top-floor bar of a certain trendy hotel to guess which of your fellow patrons are members of the Russian Mob.

Within 10 days, I had two other flights delayed for 2 hours each due to mechanical problems. I know I should look at these incidents and say it is a good thing that the airlines are discovering these problems and ensuring the safety of their passengers. It would be even better, though, if they were able to accomplish that at some point prior to departure time.

Introduction

I'm starting this about 4 months too late, but a friend suggested a good way for me to keep in touch with friends and family while I spend 6 months in Paris would be to create a blog. This way, I won't have to keep repeating the same stories to all of you, and you can check in when and if you like. As for the name, hopefully I can change this when I get back to Chicago, but since Bob Loblaw's Law Blog was already taken and an American in Paris was a bit too cliched, this should do for now.