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.

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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.