The Life and Times

photo, lady drummer, cafe metro, fete de la musique Rocking the night during the Fête de la Musique.

Of Shy Music Fans

by Ric Erickson

Paris:– Monday, 23. June:–  The Strike of the Year on Tuesday was more like the Stroll Along the Grands Boulevards of the Week. Dancing girls in clean overalls strewed posies on the pavement while burly bus drivers waved gaily colored signs urging all to urge the government to reconsider its plans to make us all work more, enjoy working more and especially, spending more of what we make from working even if it is the minimum wage – except of course for pensioners, who everyone knows can thrive on imported canned water. The weather was so fine it was hard to be bitter and angry, the music so inspiring that we all felt like baritones and the route itself was novel, leading as it did towards the grands magazins and their walls bursting at the very seams with stuff none of us can afford.

Out That Way

It just goes to show that pre–mature summery weather can have a positive effect on head–room when there is an upside expansion potential. Without warning – I had become unglued from my observer position in front of the weather on TV – the temperature ripped itself away from iron grip of 21 degrees and jumped up the stairs, from 26 to 30 and more. Wait, don't go, there's more:

photo, night lights, vavin metro stop Night lights in Montparnasse.

The TV–news weather guy was somewhat apologetic about the outlook for Tuesday. He showed the big picture and said it meant that it might be stormy around here. There will be bits of blue sky, meaning sunshine – there will be cloudy bits too, meaning clouds – and there were lightening bolts, meaning the graphics folks wanted to add action. I believed none of it. The temperature prevision was 27, and maybe that means humid. It is to be 32 in Madrid tomorrow, and there is apparently ice on Mars. If you happen to be out that way don't forget your snow chains. Wednesday might be mostly sunny and 25. Thursday, always tricky, may be semi cloudy and semi sunny, with 25 as the high and it is supposed to continue like that into Friday.

Never missing a week, Météo Jim seldom makes spelling errors, like mine last week with tropedos. I am sure you make occasional mistakes too, especially when reading this. Here is Jim's New Orleans version of how it will be in and around greater Pommeland:–

Damn the Tropedo In the Sky

The first week of June brought broiling record high temperatures to Pommeland and the rest of the East Coast. The third week saw near–record low temperatures chill the morning dew. Since those weeks were odd – figuratively and literally – and the second week was even, what will the fourth – an even – week of June bring?

photo, sign, proteger les refugies

Something similar to the second week? Sunday will see a chance of rain in the morning but the showers will go on steroids this afternoon and become thunderblitzendonner–undgeboomen storms. The same pattern will prevail Monday through Wednesday with temperatures in the mid 80s a–grad. The cloudies and partly cloudies will take over for the rest of the week. There is a forecast for next weekend, but since the forecast for this week has changed from hour to hour, we won't forecast it until a hour from now.

A la prochaine, Météo Jim

Café Life

Intro: the Week That Was

What a crazy week that was! Nigel flew in from New York, possibly by way of Chicago. Ever since Barack Obama got elected to be elected next November all flights from the USA are required to transit Chicago because it is the windy city and therefore aerodynamical. About two days later Max my number two son – now the biggest one – arrived on Europe's cheapest airline. No need to embarrass them by name, eh?

We pulled off a tref at the Bouquet. Some big football match was on their TV so we had a terrace to enjoy, until we got hungry and rolled up to the Quinze where we were given a large table because everybody was elsewhere watching that silly game. Saved us from having to dine at MacDo's. I thought we were going to be thrown out when Uncle asked for his cheeseburger without cheese and Nigel asked for bacon – pork in English – and garlic and something else I forgot. Then they neglected to bring the katchup but we were cool enough not to mention it.

photo, fleur of the yearThe one, the only, Fleur of the Year.

Then Max and I went to the pizza guy on Maine. Max asked for the extra hot Sicilian sausage and he got it. I am going to try and get some next time. In short, it was a week when we ate and ate, and guzzled and guzzled, and walked around belching softly, and Max admired the grass. Where he comes from the grass is so green it would hurt the eyes if the sun ever shone, but it doesn't. He remarked on our own sunshine and of course I pretended that it is an everyday thing we have.

The high point of the week was on the weekend, on Saturday to be precise. Hardly ever in the history – 27 years of it – does the sun shine during the Fête de la Musique but this year was different. There was the football on TV again too. It was like this:


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