All Hallows Eve ~ 2018

We are fast upon the celebrations of All Hallows Eve.

Having lived here for going on a mere 7 years we've picked up a thing or two about what's happened over the centuries and I feel I could cover the delicate subject of perfume shops, les halles, 2 million dead people, the bankruptcy of the French monarchy, and la danse macabre.

People are born and people die.  That's life, right?

So what to do with all those who died?  Well, some places in the Orient they turn the dead bodies over to vultures (Tibet).  In other places the dead are burned and the ashes are sent downstream (India).  In yet other places the heads of the dead are preserved and worn as one might a big piece of jewelry (Borneo).

In the Occidental west we tend to put dead people in the ground.  We know this has been going on for a very long time as we still dig up a rather old dead body or two every now and then out in the peaty bogs of England.

The French are no different.  During the 12th century a cemetery smack-dab in the middle of Paris was enlarged to accommodate a few more dearly departed soul's remains.  It was known at the time as Campeaux.  Soon it was call the Cimetière des Saints-Innocents.

Over the ensuing 500 or so years, more than a few people were buried there.  A charnel house had been built where bodies were, in some cases, processed.  The area attracted prostitutes, a large food market, perfumeries and other life-saving businesses sprouted up around the cemetery.  La danse macabre was performed.

Over time this meant the area would become a rather meaty mixture of things.  One could be baptised (at the church), buy food for the day, do a little danse, get happy doing the bunga-bunga with the opposite sex, die, and be buried, all within the same small quartier of town.

Things were getting grim.  The perfumeries were having trouble competing with the stench of the dead, and even la danse macabre itself died and was presumably honored before burial.  The locals started to agitate to have something done about the cemetery.  It held more corpses than it could reasonably contain and things were stinking to High Heaven.

What to do?  The answer was left to the soon to be headless dead himself Louis XVI.  Being a weak king (even the American Revolutionary Jefferson said the people could have greater cause against other kings as this one hadn't really done much to credibly incite the full-throated revolt of 1789) and wanting to stick yet another finger in the eye of the English he backed the American side during it's revolt of 1776.  This was a huge drain on the royal treasury.

To add to the royal financial misery, on September 4, 1780 there was a big storm.  The cemetery filled with water which put pressure on the walls leading to the basements of surrounding houses (how they could stand the stench is beyond the belief of this modern mind), which burst the walls, and thus disgorged more than a few dead bodies into the surrounding wine caves.  If you know anything about wine you know that dead bodies and wine do not make for a tasty combination.

The king acted.  First, the cemetery was shut down.  Second, the old Roman limestone quarries were requisitioned.  Third, the cemetery was to be cleaned of its contents by sending everyone and their remains to the old quarry that was at the time outside the city limits and well away from sight, smell, and any wine caves that might otherwise be sullied by floating dead bodies.  The job would take a year.

The only problem was, the Catholic Church insisted on getting its pound of dead flesh out of the deal.

Each and every chariot of bones hauled out of the old Cimetière des Saints-Innocents was to be headed by a sacred procession, paid handsomely, and some might say paid royally, which they most certainly were, out of the royal treasury.  Is it any surprise that the job actually lasted much longer than a year?

In the end, there was no money left to fight the angry citizens who stormed the Bastille.  There was no money left to continue supporting the American Revolt.  There was no money left to pay lawyers to defend the monarchy.  There was no money for cake for anyone.  The king and queen of France lost their heads.  The monarchy was dead and bankrupt.

The food sellers were happier to have the cemetery moved.  Les Halles, aka: the stomach of Paris, since nearly all food coming into the city passed through there, now smelled primarily of food and horse dung (from all the horses that pulled the food laden carts into the city).  The prostitutes moved to slightly better conditions by plying their trade at les Halles.  The Paris Catacombs opened for business south of town and became what is even today a rather popular tourist destination.

So what's all this about la danse macabre?  It turns out that as the cemetery was being cleaned out, the charnel house walls that had been painted with scenes of la danse were revealed.  The paintings had for centuries been covered by the many stacks of dead bodies.

If you visit the catacombs, keep an eye open for yellow colored bones.  Those would be the dearly departed souls who suffered from cholera.  Cimetière des Saints-Innocents must have been a truly ghastly place.

Pox, Tigers, Beauty, and Trash...

This year is turning out to be the Year of the Family.

We were headed to Rome for seven days and then Florence for five.  Daniel was coming over with his partner and asked if we could all meet in Italy.  We hadn't seen them since their marriage two years ago.

In the weeks leading up to our departure I increasingly felt I was fighting a virus of some kind or other.  I wasn't feeling well at all and my shoulder started hurting pretty badly.  Two days before we were to leave I had a small rash break out.  Then the day we left it appeared that I was developing a textbook case of the shingles.

I was taking the pox to Italy.

Jude had the shingles a few years ago and it was horrid stuff.  Her face was involved and it was a very slow process of healing.  Portions of her face are still numb from the nerve damage.  So I wasn't looking forward to this.

On our first day in Rome we visited a pharmacist and asked what they might have.  I was given pain meds and an aloe vera/tea tree oil lotion.  Between the two I was able to make it through the trip without being too cranky and snarky, even though blisters spread from just over the heart, across the upper chest, through the armpit, and down one arm to the wrist.  I have to say that trying to focus on the tasks of daily living and trying to take in the beautiful sites was mentally taxing.  The pain, even now, three weeks later, is constant.

One morning Jude awoke and said she thought we had bed bugs.  Her legs were bitten by some little evil bug.  I thought the bites looked like mosquitoes had gotten to her.  Daniel had similar bites develop on his legs, too.  We couldn't rule out bed bugs, even though I wasn't being bitten (I had other nasties to deal with, I guess).  So we waited.

A week later we visited the Michelangelo Hill that overlooks Florence and walked through swarms of mosquitoes.  Sure enough, Jude's legs were bitten and the bites became inflamed.  She's very reactive to insects and little did we know that the swarms that got her were the nasty African Tiger variety.

Doing a little research (unfortunately well after the fact) uncovered the truth.  Italy is lousy with 'skeeters.  Visitors are, apparently, being warned to bring repellant to ward off the nasty critters.  Jude's legs look terrible and she assures me that the pain is constant for her as well.  We may know better next time, but for the moment my wife and I are both the Walking Wounded.

Jude was bringing the plague back to France.

Even behind the pain and suffering we could notice a few things.  What struck us were a few differences between France and Italy.  The train stations, for example, are nice and clean in Italy.  There is no trash strewn about like there is at Paris train stations.  It makes us wonder what's so difficult about keeping French public places as clean as their Italian counterparts?

Indeed, there were many wonderful museums and fine meals during our Italian Adventure.  It was great to see Daniel and his partner.  We had a few laughs and shared many good moments.

Have I mentioned what we saw in Modene?  There is a large block building that is the local mortuary.  I can't imagine why the building is so big, but it is.  On one side is a sign that says "Eskimo Cold Storage."  There are many curious things in this world, aren't there?

Next up?  My father and brother are due to arrive in just under two weeks.

When Wine Bottles Float...

Just outside the shop door rested a Spad, a Sopwith, and several WWI German aircraft.  All gorgeously restored.  All in flying condition.


The French can be so civilized.  The fridge door is opened to reveal a very nice collection of beer, which we're offered to choose from as we like.

We're talking with a man who's restoring a very early aircraft.  He's been to the Reno Air Races and speaks very passable English.  I ask him what he's working on and he shows me a wing that was built in America, but broke when the plane flipped ass over teakettle.  He showed me how the forces along the wing were not distributed correctly and how the French design was different, being tapered to the ends where the American version was straight box sectioned to the bitter end.

The woodwork was beautiful on the French made wing.  It reminded me of the woodwork that my father does.  When I share this observation with our Beer Giver he brightens up and says that the very best aircraft woodworkers tend to be luthiers, just like my father.

I need to back up.  Before we get to this point in our adventure we stop off for a bite to eat.

OK.  So les rognons that Sylvie is having are cold.  That's not fun.  But all the rest is pretty darned nice.

We're having lunch with our friends at a restaurant that they've known for many years.  The original owner is still running the resto.  It's like an "event" center.  The place is sprawling.  From the kitchen three out of four plates were spot on perfect.  The wine (a Bourgogne) is tasty.

As we're eating Sylvie relates how her father's cave was transferred to another family location after he died.

The subject of wine came up when I asked her if she could taste the difference between les vins ordinaire and the Good Stuff.  I know.  It's a loaded question.  But of course! the French will tell you they can tell the difference.  Still, I wanted to explore the topic a bit over lunch.

Sylvie's father, from the sounds of things, was rather well to do and upwardly mobile.  I could have things confused but he might have been reaching for the Classe Bourgeoise.  It apparently takes time and dedication.  One of the many aspects of living at a certain level of French society is having as fabulous a cave as financially possible.  His was pretty amazing.

The cheese plate arrives and we continue our Wine Topic.

There was an inondation one year that was so severe that water flooded the caves in the area and floated the dead man's entire wine stock.  Horror of All Horrors, the water unglued every single affiche from the bottles!  This meant a bottle of '45 Rothschild was virtually indistinguishable from any other great Bordeaux vintage from other well known chateaux.  Being upwardly mobile, one would expect more Bourgeoise preferred Bordeaux than Bourgogne which are favored by Socialists, and such was the case of her father's cave.

What year and which chateau was in those bottles was anyone's guess.  So what to do with all that Great Unidentifiable Wine?  Sylvie and her mother talked things over.  It was evident there was nothing for it but to open whichever bottle was at hand and drink it with an evening's meal.

Such an adventure that must've been, knowing these were all incredible vintages from famed chateaux, and having only ones taste buds to trust and to guide.  I'll have to ask Sylvie sometime how long it took she and her mother to enjoy all the things that had lost their labels when they floated merrily around la cave.

Lunch was too soon finished.  It was time to visit the Jean Salis aerodrome and the civilized gent who offered up a couple beers and an interesting conversation about woodworking and the Reno Air Races.

Short Story ~ Home Protection Policies

Heard somewhere deep in the Franche-Comte region of France - *BOOM*

Everyone headed for cover.  It sounded loud.  It sounded close.  Too close, in fact.

An old lady continued to sit tranquillement on the front porch.  What was all this about, anyway?

The porch and house were rather large.  In fact it was so large there was enough room for three families.  The little old lady lived in the center residence.

Place was recently sold.  Interestingly, the seller refused to move out.  She was old and simply wanted the money to live out her days in peace and quiet on her property, thus corrupting any traditional idea of what it meant to sell something.

Even with a bit of arm-wrestling the old lady couldn't be moved.  So, the new owners took the two residences on either side of her and bided their time.  They might have only a few more years to wait.

*BOOM*

Only this time people didn't scatter quite as quickly.  Everyone had come to realize that she didn't like people coming onto "her" property.

Whenever friends of the new owners dropped by for a visit, an even older than its user fusil would be picked up, pointed at the sky, and the trigger pulled.

She loved to shoot off the rifle to try and scare people away.

Little Tich...

When visiting friends in Bedfordshire I mentioned that I've been looking into French vaudeville and liked what I've thus far seen. 

Dave asked me if I'd come across Little Tich.  Well, no.  I hadn't encountered him.  So he sent me the following video.  It's of the English Vaudeville performer working in Paris.  I think it's brilliant.  Have a look and see what you think.

Yvette Horner...

Zounds!

Yvette Horner has died.

If you don't know who she is, look her up. 

Great artist.  Great music.  Great personality.  IMNSHO.

Democracy Risks, Data Collection, and Chinese Spy Operations...

I swore I would stay away from this topic after I was laid off from my last job.  I have not been in industry for going on seven years, but a story compels me try and provide relevant detail so people can understand the deeper issues in play. 

It was recently revealed that Facebook has granted Chinese telephone manufacturers and data network providers access to user data.   In February of this year the FBI Director Christopher Wray continued to warn US consumers to avoid buying products from these same companies.

Why does the story matter?  Afterall, we never hear of US companies having a problem sharing data with businesses in other countries.  Certainly US companies do share data with non-US businesses, right?  What makes China special?

During a public debrief of the then current state of People's Republic of China industrial espionage and data theft activities, a representative from one of the three letter agencies visited the company I worked for.  He shared that two foreign companies in particular were his "biggest headaches."  There were certainly other Chinese entities that merited close attention, but dealing with activities of these two Chinese state-run entities consumed more of his time than anything else his job also required.

The companies in question are ZTE and Huawei.

ZTE has been in the news recently.  It seems as if the company may be on the verge of folding.  But  "...the president announced he wished to rescue ZTE, which is on the verge of bankruptcy because of the U.S. decision to not only ban the company from selling phones here, but also buying essential U.S.-made components. As the president noted, shutting down ZTE penalizes thousands of innocent Chinese workers."

Huawei, too, has been in the news.  "Six top US intelligence chiefs, including the heads of the FBI, CIA and NSA, told Americans they wouldn't recommend buying products or services from the Chinese manufacturer..."

In defense of products from Huawei and ZTE, occasionally a person can find writers who say it's crazy to think anything bad could happen by letting Chinese designed and manufactured technology products into the US.  But based on research of un-classified and widely available publical materials, such a defensive position appears to be naive and perhaps even dangerous.

"...General James Cartwright, while serving as the Combatant Commander of the US Strategic Command, testified before a Congressional commission that China is actively engaging in cyber reconnaissance by probing the computer networks of US government agencies as well as private companies…"  - Capability of the People’s Republic of China to Conduct Cyber Warfare and Computer Network Exploitation. Prepared for The US-China Economic and Security Review Commission. Project Manager Steve DeWeese, Principal Author Bryan Krekel, Subject Matter Experts George Bakos and Christopher Barnett, October 9, 2009, page 52

In short, on-going Chinese cyber-operations target not only US Government computer operations, but private industry, too.  The cost to US businesses is quite high in several dimensions, not the least of which include risks to long term viability and profitability.

"...Foreign intelligence services have discovered that… private sector information, once unreachable or requiring years of expensive technological or human asset preparation to obtain, can now be accessed inventoried and stolen with comparative ease using computer network operations tools. The return on present investment for targeting sensitive US information in this way (the intelligence gain) can be extraordinarily high while the barriers to entry (the skills and technologies required to implement an operation) are comparatively low… China is most frequently cited as the primary actor behind much of the activity noted in media reporting, and US officials are increasingly willing to publicly acknowledge that China’s network exploitation and intelligence collection activities are one this country’s most consuming counterintelligence challenges… [China] has successfully exfilterated at least 10 to 20 terabytes of data from US Government networks as of 2007…"  - Capability of the People’s Republic of China to Conduct Cyber Warfare and Computer Network Exploitation. Prepared for The US-China Economic and Security Review Commission. Project Manager Steve DeWeese, Principal Author Bryan Krekel, Subject Matter Experts George Bakos and Christopher Barnett, October 9, 2009, page 51

The problem is compounded by the fact that US businesses design, manufacture, and distribute very complex technically challenging products.  With this in mind, US business operations conducted in China are at particular risk.

"...The growing amount of R&R conducted in China by foreign multinational corporations provides a potentially more promising avenue for the PRC to obtain technological know-how..." - China’s Program for Science and Technology Modernization: Implications for American Competitiveness. Prepared for The US-China Economic and Security Review Commission. By Micah Springut, Stephen Schlaikjer, and David Chen. CENTRA Technology, Inc. 4121 Wilson Boulevard, Suite 800, Arlington, VA 22203, pg7

"...The investigation concludes that the risks associated with Huawei’s and ZTE’s provision of equipment to U.S. critical infrastructure could undermine core U.S. national-security interests..." - Investigative Report on the U.S. National Security Issues Posed by Chinese Telecommunications Companies Huawei and ZTE - A report by Chairman Mike Rogers and Ranking Member C.A. Dutch Ruppersberger of the Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence - U.S. House of Representatives 112th Congress October 8, 2012

The problem leads naturally to a question of what are the Chinese up to?  What do they want?  What are they going to do with it?

"...Malicious Chinese hardware or software implants would also be a potent espionage tool for penetrating sensitive U.S. national security systems, as well as providing access to the closed American corporate networks that contain the sensitive trade secrets, advanced research and development data, and negotiating or litigation positions that China would find useful in obtaining an unfair diplomatic or commercial advantage over the United States..." - Investigative Report on the U.S. National Security Issues Posed by Chinese Telecommunications Companies Huawei and ZTE - A report by Chairman Mike Rogers and Ranking Member C.A. Dutch Ruppersberger of the Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence - U.S. House of Representatives 112th Congress October 8, 2012

"...The Chinese government and Chinese companies have developed joint strategies to influence future developments to the advantage of Chinese ICT products. China’s role in setting international technology standards is likely to increase, and similar strategies are likely to be used in the future in fields beyond ICT, such as pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, medical technology, nanotechnology, virtual reality, and artificial intelligence. Until U.S. leadership takes this vulnerability seriously, it will remain an ‘easy button’ for our adversaries..." - Testimony before the U.S.-China Economic and Security Review Commission Hearing on “China, the United States, and Next Generation Connectivity” March 8, 2018 Jennifer Bisceglie CEO and President of Interos Solutions, Inc.

Now it is revealed that Facebook shares data with Huawei and ZTE (as well as with other Chinese manufacturers and service providers).  The Chinese didn't have to dig for the data.  They didn't have to steal it.  They were given the data by Facebook.

It would be a real stretch of the imagination to believe that the same three letter agencies that visited the company I used to work for do not on a regular basis pay similar visits to Facebook to increase Facebook's awareness of national and corporate security risk areas that needed to be addressed.  After the Chinese hack of Google chased the huge search engine out of China, Google changed its corporate approach to how it dealt with the PRC.

The Russian influenced outcome of the last US election used, in part, Facebook to achieve their goals.  In similar time, Facebook allowed an English firm, Cambridge Analytica, to analyze data and to target users in Cambridge Analytica support of the Trump campaign.  And Facebook has now admitted to be working with China state-actors.  In the face of national security threats, it appears that Facebook has changed little to nothing in the way it conducts its business.

What else has Facebook done?  What other access has Facebook granted to state or private entities that work to shape our minds, ideas, decisions?  How much damage has been done to US democracy, US government institutions, US businesses, and public thinking/feeling on a wide range of topics?

On the face of things I can't help but feel that Facebook requires close regulation, if not outright closure.

We can't just throw up our hands and say there's nothing to be done since the cat is out of the bag anyway.  That, to me, would be a defeatist, non-American approach to a very real and very serious problem.

The Great War and how France came to love jazz

I find the history of black Americans fighting in Europe during the Great War (WWI) and World War Two to be a fascinating topic.  Of the many stories and histories, one of the more interesting is about how a regiment of US military men brought a uniquely American music to France.

After the American Civil War and before the Great War in Europe the 15th New York National Guard Regiment had been formed around freed slaves who were looking for a way to contribute to the security and safety of America.  The unit was made up of black Americans and, somewhat later, Puerto Ricans.  The unit became known as the 15th Brooklyn "Rattlesnakes".

In 1917 leaders in the United States knew there weren't enough men to make an effective army and that the nation was edging toward participating in the Great War.  This lead to the Selective Service Act of 1917.  White and black men could register to fight for America.  The 15th New York was folded into the new military structure and became the 369th Infantry Regiment where they received combat training.

Before US military participation in the Great War in 1918, German submariners had been sinking Europe-bound cargo vessels at a frightening rate.  In response, the Navy escorted convoys of cargo ships as they crossed the Atlantic to give protection to the fleet.





President Woodrow Wilson did not want black Americans returning home with combat experience.  He feared they would make trouble for white people.  So the order was given that no black military unit was to see action along the front lines.  It was up to General John "Nigger Jack" (aka "Black Jack") Pershing to see this order was correctly executed.

Instead, black units would be deployed to do the kinds of work and service former slaves did back home.  They built roads, dug ditches, cooked food, and cleaned. 

When the status of the 369th Infantry was changed from support to active service white soldiers refused to fight alongside their black countrymen. Further, deploying them to the front lines would be a direct violation of President Wilson's order against black units in combat. 

Naturally this led to a question about what to do with the Regiment.  To answer the question, on 8 April, 1918, the 369th was reassigned to fight on the side of the French.  They were issued French weapons, helmets and other gear, though they continued to wear their American uniforms.

President Wilson was furious and demanded to know why General Pershing had allowed this to happen.  The General replied that they were on loan to the French and therefore were no longer under US command. The 369th served longer at the front than any American unit, received 170 Croix de Guerre, 2 medals of honor, suffered 1500 casualties and gained the respect of France.

In addition to being filled with capable fighting men, the 369th Regiment had a band and it's leader was a man named James Reese Europe.   There are several interesting things to note about M.Europe and his band.  For one, he studied under John Philip Sousa and adopted the cadence, beat, and rhythm of M.Sousa.  By making a few minor "tweaks" to the musical style and over the years leading up to the Great War, M.Europe has been credited with developing what we now know as "Ragtime".

On 27 December, 1917 the 369th Infantry was bound for Brest, France.  They were all alone and potentially easy prey to German submariners.  M.Europe, his band, and the regiment crossed the ocean unescorted by the US Navy.  Yet they arrived at the French harbor intact.

Upon arrival they debarked, assembled the band, and in celebration of their safe crossing as well as to introduce themselves to the French they started to play.  The French were curious.  As they listened they tried to sort out what they were hearing.  Then it dawned on them. 

What they were listening to was the Marseillaise played in the "Ragtime" style.  The French went crazy.  Here was a new musical form. Here were a bunch of "cool black cats" who could really play.  Here was found a new love.  The music seemed tailored to French sensibilities and style.  They loved it and the roundly welcomed the black Americans who brought them Jazz.

M. Europe, his band, and the 369th returned to home to Jim Crow America.  The year 1919 became known as the Red Summer.  America rose up in riot against the black men who returned from helping liberate France.


[Note: I am from being an expert in this history and only share what I've heard in a conference, heard in talking with Parisians, and learned from reading.  Each and every highlight I shared above is backed by a deep, rich history, filled with interesting and revealing details and stories.  From what I can tell, the band of the 369th Regiment may well have been the first contact the French ever had with what would quickly become a uniquely American musical form.  If the subject interests you, it might be well worth doing a bit of research along these lines.]

[Inspired by a lecture given at Columbia University, Paris, France by Curtis Young]

Black Americans and the Great War

One of the things we can't help but notice after moving to France is just how many black Americans over the years have become expats, too.  Josephine Baker, Sidney Bechet, Nina Simone, James Baldwin, and Benny Luke come immediately to mind.

Jude and I recently attended a lecture given by Curtis Young at the Columbia University, Paris.  He has added his name to the long list of black American expats who have found a better life here.  His lecture brought up two figures from history who we knew nothing about.

One of the people Curtis Young talked about is a black airman who flew for the French during the Great War (WWI).  His name is Eugene Bullard.  His adventures are the stuff of legend, including shooting down one or two German aircraft, and being referred to as the Black Swallow of Death.  By the end of the first world war the Black Swallow of Death had been decorated ten times.

After General Pershing arrived in France, M. Bullard was required to report for duty.  But he was stopped at the front door by a white guard to told him that blacks were not allowed.  Instead of backing down, M. Bullard took the guard's gun  and demanded to see the man's commanding officer.  The officer must have known of M. Bullard because he was allowed in to the meeting.  But as was standard practice with Jim Crow America he was never allowed to fly for the US.

There is a rather telling memo describing the "Negro Question" and the treatment of black American soldiers.

...Although a citizen of the United States, the black man is regarded by the white American as an inferior being with whom relations of business or service only are possible. The black is constantly being censured for his want of intelligence and discretion, his lack of civic and professional conscience, and for his tendency toward undue familiarity...

The French were appalled and set about collecting every single copy of the memo.  Original copies of the document can be found here in Paris in the National Archives.  They are numbered so they knew when they had collected all of them.

After the war M. Bullard opened a famous nightspot on Montmartre called l'Escradrille.  When the Nazis occupied Paris he spied for the French.  He used his nightclub and good knowledge German to listen in on occupiers conversations.

Later in the war M.Bullard fought alongside the French in the Bordeaux area, but had to escape to Spain and then to Portugal.  Fleeing the Nazis he returned to New York.    After the second world war he had been decorated five more times.

Fame and recognition did not follow him.  Americans seemed to know nothing of the decorated war hero in their midst.  In fact, he was beaten during the Peekskill Riots that had been instigated  by white supremacists.

He tried to return to Paris and his l'Escadrille nightclub.  Since it had been bombed during the war and having little money to rebuild the club he was constrained to remain in New York.  This meant finding work "fit for a black man" as he could.  Late in life he worked as a lift operator at Rockefeller Center.

In 1959 Dave Garaway interviewed Eugene Bullard for the Today Show.  This seems to be the most recognition America ever gave the black man who lived for a time in Paris, France.

The French, however, never forgot Eugene Bullard.  In 1954 he was one of three men invited to rekindle the flame to the unknown soldier under the Arc de Triomphe.


[Inspired and informed by a 2018 lecture given at Columbia University, Paris, France by Curtis Young]

Eating in Bordeaux

Jude and I went to Bordeaux.  It's been on our list of Things To Do After Moving To France for going on six years.  And we were looking for a way to celebrate our 25th year together.  What could be more romantic than a pretty city, good food, and world renown wine?

The tram from the gare to our hotel

Paris to Bordeaux takes two hours by TGV.  We couldn't believe how quick the trip is.  From Gare St Jean to our hotel was an easy 20 minute tram ride further.

We settled on a place to eat and were shocked to realize that their food was microwaved.  I expect something like this in Paris where too much food is pre-prepared out at Rungis, but in Bordeaux?  Surely this couldn't be true, could it?  But there it was.  And the wine wasn't worth the price, either.  Stung, we vowed to avoid eateries around the Cathedral.  None of the places we looked in on smelled like they had a real kitchen, either.

Retreating to our hotel room Jude did a bit more research to see if we couldn't find somewhere better.  Sure enough, the next day we had lunch at a fine place called La P'tit Brasserie.  It's located at 127 rue Georges Bonnac.

Lunch at La P'tit Brasserie

The wait staff are very friendly and the kitchen was the real thing.  It was such a vast improvement over dinner the prior day that it nearly brought tears of joy to our eyes.  The food and the flavors and the wines and the people were all wonderful.

Dinner at La P'tit Brasserie

Prior to leaving Paris, Jude's art teacher had given her a recommendation for a place he liked to go to in Bordeaux when he visits.  We have heard but couldn't confirm on this visit that more artists can afford to live in the area than can in Paris (which tends to be rather expensive by European standards).

The only wrinkle was that the art teacher's favored resto was Italian.  Who goes to Bordeaux to eat Italian food?  Oh, woe to ye of such little faith.

Lunch at Pizzeria Peppone

The Pizzeria Peppone is an absolute gas!  It's located at 31 Cours Georges Clemenceau.

Here, too, one can look straight into the kitchen to confirm it's the Real Thing.  The staff are quick and efficient.  The food, oh, the Italian food... words escape me...

Then there is the cave.  Below where we ate rests bottles and bottles of Italian wines lit by candles and attended by statues of the Greats of the Catholic Church.  It's just wonderful.

Where the business is managed

I explored the cave a little when I went to take a leak.  When I came up and suggested to Jude that she too needed to descend into the cave to have a look around.  And, oh, by the way, if you find a Vin Santo that calls to you, please bring it up and we'll pay for it when we pay for our lunch.

Bless her fuzzy little heart.  Jude brought up not only a good looking bottle of Vin Santo, but also a really nice Valpolicella, too.  Did I mention that we're headed to Rome and Florence in late September?  We travel on our stomachs and this little place in Bordeaux reminds us of why we like Italy nearly as much as we like France.

The cave... oh... the cave...

There is one more place on our original list of Must Do Things.  After that, we may be back to Bordeaux.  Even if it's nothing more than to take another lunch or two.

In the cave of Sainted Italian Vino

Short Story ~ Berliners after the second world war

We know from history that at the close of the second world war that the German capital of Berlin fell to both the Allies and Russia.  Russia got the eastern part of the city and the Allies controlled the western side town.  Russia also got a long stretch of land between West Berlin and West Germany.

West Berliners effectively lived on an island that had just three roads leading across East Germany to the democratic side. There was no stopping and getting out to walk through the countryside.  Once you were on one of the three roads you had to keep moving until you reached the other end.

During my years working at Tektronix in Beaverton, Oregon I came across Germans who shared their stories of what it was like living on the cultural geographic Island of West Berlin.  A common thread to their stories was that no big industrial base could be formed there due to the distances of moving goods in and out of the western sector of the city.

Not knowing what else to do, the West German government gave incentives to artists to come and settle in West Berlin.  Many years later when I visited Berlin it was easy to see that the city remained an artist colony.  The creative spirit remains particularly strong there.

The isolation of the western sector, however, was too strong for some artists.  In the late 1950's a sculpture left and made his way to a small village in France called Audelange.  It's in the Jura.  Out in the middle of nowhere.  Where cheap wine flowed and a sleepy Napoleonic-era canal rolled.

He told people he knew back in the Island of West Berlin that France was the place to come to.  Land and housing was very cheap he said.  People came to visit him and confirmed what the ex-patriot had said.  A few Germans joined him in settling the area.

One young person who's Russian husband (yes, Russian, as she wanted to make a point to her parents who still supported the banished regime) dropped dead of a heart attack before he was 35 years old too felt the need to leave Germany.  Tucking her pet cat under one arm and an egg laying hen under the other she headed to France to have a look for herself.

She found a house that was nothing but a shell.  It had no heating, no running water, and came complete with a big hole in the roof.  No doubt the hole in the roof allowed residents to easily check on the weather.  Water poured into the building whenever it rained.  But it had been cheap.  Soon after moving in the roof was patched, making easy weather checks a little more difficult.  No running water nor heat were yet available.

The residence included an old wine cellar that dated from before the Great French Phylloxera Epidemic.  Big casks would be rolled in from the road through the front door and down into the cave.  It still smells musty in spite of not having held a wine cask for at least the past half century.

Three years after fixing the roof our friend met a man who would be her partner for the rest of his life.  He was an interior designer and they set about rebuilding the house into a home.  The place is now a lovely residence, complete with well tended gardens, porches, a covered space for the car, and, of course, heat and running water.

When Jude and I visited our Berliner ex-pat friend she introduced us to a few of the other Berliners who had been part of the small westbound German Artist Exodus.  It surprised us because she knew Germans in nearly every village we passed.

We learned that similar stories of Germans leaving their Homeland to live across France after the second world war are quite common.

A month away...

It is becoming our habit to find sunnier, warmer climes during the harshest parts of the bone-creaking cold, nose-running wet, ghastly-gray inclimate Parisian winter.  This year we chose Seville.  It shares top honors with Lisbon of being the warmest place in Europe when the days are at their shortest.

Transporting ourselves and our things to Spain turned out to be a bit of a challenge.  Many flights headed east of Paris before turning around and heading southwest.  These looked to take 8.5 hours to complete a journey.  Whichever direct flights were available flew at some ungawdly early hour out of Roissy and cost a minor fortune.  Well connected to the rest of Europe Spain is not.

Throwing caution to the wind we booked the TGV to Barcelona, found a hotel just across the street from the train station, and bought passage continuing on to Seville on the AVE.  We like train travel.  It feels so much more civilized than flying Cattle Car Class in a long aluminum tube.

Upon our arrival we discovered the apartment was one of the best we've ever rented thru AirBnB.  Fernando had cleaned the place top to bottom and nearly everything was in good condition.  Only the weather made things challenging.

This year al Andalus was inundated with rain and, in the mountains, snow.  Lots of it.  Rivers ran brown with mud and overflowed their banks.  Olive and orange orchards sat in water that had nowhere else to go.  It rained 25 out of the 30 days we were in Spain.  It was depressing.

My mood was definitely affected by the weather.  So when px500, a photo-sharing site I belonged to, sent me an email saying they couldn't process my payment and couldn't find my account, I said fine.  No big deal.  The very next week sealed my thinking about leaving px500 when the company announced it had be sold to a company in China.

A week later and the international news was awash with reports of how not only had Russian bots and Russian trolls used Facebook to influence vulnerable American minds into voting for Trump, but that a western company had worked directly with the Trump campaign with data collected from 50million Facebook users to sway the election.  As my mood was already dark, and as the rain in Spain continued to fall, I had time to think long and hard about my participation on Facebook.

I realized I was naive to believe that Zuckerberg would care enough about protecting democracy to pay attention to how his company was being used as a Russia-for-Trump tool.  Money before ideology has been the American business model for generations, so why would a Silicon Valley based company be any different?  The Facebook business model is to sell participant user information while providing "free" services that integrate communications.

As has been noted in The New Yorker magazine, with great power (Facebook's 2 billion user reach) comes great responsibility.  I my eyes Facebook has failed, miserably, so all bloatware, spyware from Facebook and Instagram (which is owned by Facebook) were deleted from the tablet, freeing up 2gig of application space.  Ethics and morals are important to me.

On our return to Paris we spent two nights in Barcelona.  We were there to share a birthday lunch with a childhood friend of Jude's.  Jennifer had been something of a model for leaving the USA for better, more civilized locations.  Jen has lived in Spain for over 30 years and seldom considers moving back to America.

The lunch was wonderful.  The conversations were multi-lingual.  Jen's husband speaks French. Jen speaks English with us. Between she and her husband they speak Spanish.   It felt like a three-way tag team.

The weather... well... the weather had turned nice, actually.  It was clear and sunny.  So we took a long slow walk along the Ramblas.

Rolling through the streets of Paris...

It was a Dark and Stormy... um... morning.  Yes.  That was it.  We must, afterall, stay with the truth since there seems to be so little of it going around these days.  It was indeed dark.  It was indeed quite cold.  And it was very stormy.


Another truth is that I've been going to the winter and summer traversee de Paris for going on five years now.  It was there that I learned about how Car Crazy the French can be.  Twice a year the Association Vincennes en Ancienne organizes a Grand Gathering of Car Crazy French and turns them loose on the streets of Paris.

As a spectator it's been a lot of fun watching as well north of six hundred old vehicles spread out around the city.  At key locations owners would park their cars so spectators like me can see them up close.  Vehicle owners generally enjoy a long conversation, too.

Tables are sometimes set up.  White table clothes are sometimes spread out.  Bread, cheese, and wine sometimes appear out of nowhere.  A Good Time is had by all.

This year, 2018, would be a little different.  A friend and I would participate by driving an oh so awfully French Car Of The People Citroen 2CV.  A state-side friend, Jim, calls these Tin Snails.  And if you'll recall, the Tin Snail is imbued with a reliable energy source that consists of two opposed cylinders of une Grande Capacite of around 600cc.  This compares rather well to a pre-war BMW motorcycle and goes one better by being fully enclosed to keep the rain off the attire.


Up at 5:45am, showered, fed, out the door by 6:45am and into a waiting white Tin Snail.  Patrice, a friend of our's whom we met through a stateside friend with whom we swapped apartments during our last stay in the US, would be the Tin Snail's conductor.

A storm lay over us and it was making things miserable as we oozed our way to the Chateau de Vincennes.  Once there we found a well watered mud-hole to park the Tin Snail in.  She was flanked by many tasty voitures de collections.  Over here was a pretty Citroen SM (Sire Majeste).  Over there a pair of Ferrari TestaRossa.  And just behind the Ferraris sat several Ford Model A's of various styles.  Oh, and les bretons brought their tractors, too.


As it was pissing rain, men lined up against the wall to the chateau moat and pissed themselves dry.  It would be a long day and a person needs to start off in the best possible condition.  By some magic unheard unseen signal the men dribbled one last dribble, zipped up, boarded our various conveyances and started toward the chateau exit.

It took nearly eight hours for the event to fully unroll.  Cars were lined up for miles around the city.  Because of the constant line of cars there was no need for une Voiture de Grande Vitesse.  600cc's of mighty reliable French power was sufficient.  Spectators stood, looked, ogled, and sometimes waved as all of us passed by.  The rain ended and the Tin Snail was able to slime its way around without spinning its tires nor operating it's wipers.

Patrice and I stopped for a quick bite to eat before he dropped me off at the front door.  The grin on my face must've told the entire story.  What a Great Day it had been.