Bob and Gayle's France Trip

The Seen and the Unseen

The Seen and Unseen

To be in Paris means being “Seen” in Paris. The state of “Being Seen” keeps coming up. Tour books will tell you that Café Les Deux Magots, where Hemingway and other notable writers spun tales, settled world issues, and basically made a nuisance of themselves, used to be the place to be seen. Now it’s Café de Flore which is right around the corner. As any wine snob knows, the best burgundy wines come from the portion of the vineyard that is highest on the hillside just before the woodlands. Any higher and the vines would die, but these hardy plants, desperate to live, produce the most spirited wines. The same goes for Paris, you could be in “The Place” but be in the wrong room or at the wrong table.

While we were visiting the town of Amiens, Gayle and I decided to pack a picnic dinner for our train ride back to Paris. Our first stop was a friendly chain of wine shops called “Nicholas”. We got into a protracted discussion about choosing the correct Bordeaux wine. First we settled on price, 10 euros. Then the nice shopkeeper had us choose the correct strength or hardiness. Americans apparently love hardy wines with oak that practically floats in the glass. After we selected the hardiness, she made us promise to open the wine 30 minutes before drinking. “The wine is sleeping and needs 30 minutes to wake up!”

Then we asked the fateful question that destroyed our plans. We asked, “it’s OK to drink wine on the train?” “Oh no, it is not permitted. Old people would be offended?” Trying valiantly to save the day, I asked “but it is not against the law? We won’t get in trouble if we drink wine with our dinner?” Alas, she was unwavering, we must not drink wine on the train, it simply is not done. Gayle agreed, we left, staggering our way to the train, without our wine.

We ate our simple dinner admiring the empty green fields of Normandy when I heard a sharp plop. A couple about 3 rows in front of us had just opened a bottle of champagne to savor their trip home. I hope some old folks saw them and were really offended. Since some would call us old, perhaps what she said was true.

The next day we met with Jacqueline to get our new microwave. I asked her if it was acceptable to drink wine on the train with your picnic dinner? She said, “Why of course, what fun would dinner be without a glass of wine!”

During our trip back from the Eiffel Tower, we got swept up in the Metro Business rush hour. The trains were filled with people who were not quite in focus, as sharp, after a hard days work. One businessman was wearing a green polyester tweedish suit. For shoes he was wearing lime green aqua socks. I determined that he must have had the following occupations; sells the green uniforms for the Paris cleanup crews, sells used escargot shells, is a dot-comer after the bust.

In both the Seen and Unseen category falls the successful conclusion of our metal window shutters. The metal window shades for our room have been broken, leaving us only the thin green lace like decorative curtains. I was having flashbacks to the “Truman Show” movie, our life in a fish bowl. When we arrived home a couple of days ago, Jacqueline was there, struggling with workman to get our window shades fixed. While we were all in the room, the workman turned to me and asked me something complex in French. Jacqueline smiled, and basically told him that the guy wearing a chapeau bleu “Blue Seattle Sombero” and wearing shorts (zip off pant legs, minus the leggings) is not French. A long 1-2 minute conversation erupted with pointing to the window shade box which is high above the windows, the chairs, me, and out the window. Jacqueline finally got off of the divan and walked over to the cupboards and pulled out a step stool and gave it to the workman and said, “Voila”. Her look said, “now get to work and fix those blinds!” The “Truman show has been interrupted due to technical difficulties. We will now return you to our regularly scheduled show, the chapeau bleu (Blue Hat).”

On the Unseen or we wish it were Unseen category, I would put “Dejections Canines” or dog poop. This is big business here. On the average, two people each day suffer a serious fall due to dog poop. Jacques Chirac made his name as mayor of Paris by physically cleaning up the streets. I hear that Dejections Cannies [DC] was a major component of that plan. As of last count, 20 million tons of DC is vacuumed up each day by guys in green suits driving little green trucks. This costs the Parisians 10 million dollars, which for all I know came from vehicle registrations. Sitting here in my apartment watching from the window, I have noticed two interesting phenomena when it comes to DC. If the dog needs to pee or DC #1, the owner watches the dog with a little smirk and moves on. But if we’re talking DC #2, everything changes. This is the time to admire the architecture, take a look at that new model of Renault Twingo, or light up a cigarette. A gentle tug on the leash, signaling the canine is now ready to leave, the Parisian moves on with nary a care in the world. This rather puts a new spin on the DC problems back home in Sequim.

“Oh no I’ve got a blister. Hum that is a weird place for a blister!” My moment of muse was interrupted by this utterance of Gayle. We spend a lot of time examining our feet due to the many hours of aimless wandering. As a college trained Primate Anthropologist, I can assure you that this is common grooming behavior while living in the bush.

We’ve spent portions of the last two days with Ralph, Cindy, and their adorable 2-1/2 year old daughter, Hannah. Ralph is our Associate Pastor at the church we go to in Sequim. They are having a wonderful time, loving the food compared with their London experiences, and generally overwhelmed by the richness of Paris sights.

During our visit together at the Rodin museum, a class of 3rd grade students from a local school were learning about Rodin. The teacher would get up front and have the kids sit down while she explained in classic French key points. Hanna, took a copy of the Rodin brochure and sat down with the class. She patiently watched the teacher and the students, marking up the brochure with notes from one of her fingers she used as a pencil. When the class moved on, she animatedly told Cindy what she learned. I couldn’t hear the words but saw her gesturing and modeling how the kids sat and what the teacher did. Plus she used the imaginary notes she scribbled to make it all perfectly clear to Cindy!

Another funny story that Ralph told me happened last night in their hotel in the Latin Quarter. Cindy and Hanna had turned out their light after a little light reading. Ralph, thought they were both out for the night. He continued to read probably some deeply inspirational book. After a 5-10 minutes, Hanna got up, ran around the bed and turned off Ralph’s light and said, “Good night Daddy!” This is a pretty good line to end this blog entry!

I have included some pictures of Ralph, Cindy and Hanna on the attached pictures.

Picture Set 1
Picture Set 2
Picture Set 3

posted by Bob and Gayle @ 5:16 PM