Unfettered and Alive

 

Something "Official" goin on at Le Arc

It was Friday morning and I was heading nowhere in particular on the metro when I suddenly heard music in my head, “If I had my way, I’d just walk through those doors and wander down the Champs-Elysees.” Thank you Joni Mitchell! I knew that a song cue would tell me what to do on this day with no commitments and no ideas.  So that’s just what I did. I was off the train at Champs-Elysees stop and on to a day full of totally aimless wandering.

I did have one thing I wanted to find and that was one of my favorite shoe stores, Heyraud. I knew they had a store on the Champs because last time I was here I went there on a wild goose-chase there with my friend Lauren. We were trying to find these amazing sandals with big black patent leather flowers on them, in my size, which is 40. (As if 9 isn’t a large-enough- sounding- number for a foot, 40 sounds gargantuan! But it must be normal here, because the stores are often out of it.)  We did find those black sandals at that Champs location in size 40 and I vowed to always return. Sadly, I didn’t find the store on this day. But I know I will.

I did find lots of interesting things, though. As usual. Here’s the report:

EAT: I ate at home so really only needed a snack. There were so many amazingly fun-looking cafes. People were drinking really interesting things… some of them in pink and other pastels. Several times I thought about sitting down at one of these cafes, but for some reason they all looked like they’d be more fun with company. I decided to note some for later and  stop instead at the McCafe. (Yes, that means the Golden Arches.). This was an idea suggested by my friend Debra’s sister. She was right. The view from the McCafe (it really is called that) is just as good as any other. Plus they have espresso drinks and excellent baked goods and desserts. So why not? This way I wasn’t taking a table from some honeymooners elsewhere. I had myself a delicious Cookie of 2 Chocolats and an Evain. I forgot to check and see if they really do call a quarter pounder a “Royale”… like they said in Pulp Fiction.

Le McCafe w/ Marching Band

As I left the McCafe I saw a uniformed marching band heading down the street. Interesting… were they coming from some parade?

PLAY: Right as I got off the metro I saw something interesting across the street. As I headed closer I realized it was an antique/rare car auction. I was wandering around and peering in, like most folks. There were some cool looking cars in there. Some were very Great Gatsby and some more Gangster or Racecar looking. Turns out lots of the cars were Bugattis. Not being a car person I had to look up Bugatti on Wikipedia (I love Wikipedia) to find out about them. Pretty impressive! Here’s a pic of one 1927 model being lowered off a trailer not yet inside the tent. I overheard someone saying 1927, so that’s how I know.

When I had made it to the end of the Champs where the Arc de Triomphe is, I noticed that a whole mass of uniformed officials had gathered there. I wandered around, trying to figure out what was going on. No clues. As I made my way back down the other side of the street I heard marching band music. My band was coming back up the street, and this time they were playing! They marched right past McCafe where I first spotted them. I don’t know what the occasion was, but they were heading down toward the Arc. It was fun and oddly moving to watch and listen. Here’s a video, partially obscured by cars. Anyone know what that song is?

Back at home in the evening I decided to take a walk up the Butte again to have a sundown experience at Sacre Coeur. It is safe to walk around here after dark so I set off up the hill. I wasn’t prepared for such aliveness when I got there!

The cathedral is all lit up and ghostly at night, looming above like a giant nightlight. There were people around speaking all kinds of languages and taking pictures. There were no musicians, but the street souvenier sellers had their stuff on blankets everywhere. All of the twinking light-up Eiffel Towers kept me from stepping on stuff. A few feet away, a glimpse of the real Tour Eiffel was there to be had… all lit up and begging to be photographed. My camera wasn’t working well, so I have nothing to show of the tower except what is in the video coming up, but it was amazing to see.

My camera challenges make it look even more ghostly

I took a walk toward the action, accompanied for part of the time by “Jacques the Rapper” (see special report below.) The action is in the area where the tourist shops and cafes are and they were going full force. You can’t move a step without meeting someone who wants to draw your portrait or tripping over a mime. Nevertheless I found it all enchanting and surreal. I’ll be back with some friends, soon, for some drinking and dining.

Here is my film noir, La  Butte at Night. Don’t miss the mime, and me trying to be nice to the very aggressive portait guy at the end.

SHOP: Nothing much to report, except for two things.

1. It appears that the fur vest (fake or real) is the big thing this fall. Don’t know if that’s true at home, but here every shop has some version of it. You’ve got your full fur, fur-trimmed, furry textured fabric and long and short versions. The concept is growing on me (not literally, of course.) But I’m not sold yet. Stay tuned.

2. I prefer shopping in neighborhood boutiques over streets like the Champs. There are so many US store brands there. I even went in to see if they carried different merchandise. Nope! Looks the same. But I guess that’s attractive if you’re not from there. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of other amazing stores. Not being label-conscious, though, I didn’t find the sort of uniqueness I like here. Of course, if I had located my fav shoe store all bets would be off

I’ve decided to include 2 new sections in my blog. The first is Les Jacques Report and the second is Words from the W.C.

I realize that it might get old for some to hear daily reports on the various men I meet. It might even sound like I’m bragging. I’m not. I’m just shocked.  I have to say that after spending almost 20 years in the San Francisco Bay Area, I think I’ve been deprived a bit. If you’ve never lived there as a woman, you wouldn’t know about a peculiar phenomenon. There are plenty of straight men there, but for some reason they have developed a unique style.

Knowing that they are outnumbered by available women, they seem not to appreciate them. I didn’t realize this until I spent some time in L.A. and saw the difference. I guess when the supply outweighs the demand you can pretend you’re not interested. The result: many women walk around SF feeling a bit invisible. Am I right Bay Area girls? So my ego is loving the Jacques’ here in france. I have not been hit on this much since Calvin Klein Jeans came out. If you know what I’m talking about, you know how long ago that was!

Words from the W.C. is where I’ll deposit any potty humor that comes up. Not all people find it appealing, but I know some of you do. Don’t expect something every time, but I wanted to have a special place for it so those who don’t appreciate can avoid.

So here they are.

Les Jacques’ Report – In the afternoon by the Petit Palias, in front of the Winston Churchill statue, I met “Jacques Pour le Plaisir.” He was an older gentleman who asked me to call him next week for - I’m not kidding - ”an afternoon of pleasure.” I tried to tell him that my friend Debra will be here and he would have to take on both of us, but his english was about as good as my french so I don’t think he got it.

Up at the cathedral I met “Jacques the Rapper.” No, not the Ripper, the Rapper. He was a tall, youngish looking guy from Senegal who spoke really good english and wasn’t bad looking except for his very bloodshot eyes. He said his dad was from the US. He was nice, although I think he had been consuming more than just the beer he was toting. I suspect he had been smoking some of “le ganja” with his buddies. He had dreds and his jeans were slung a bit low, gangsta style. He told me he was a rap and reggae musician, and was on his way to meet his “homies” about their next gig.  Hearing him say “my homies” in his French/Senegalese accent was a hoot. Just when I was figuring out how to separate myself from his company his iPhone went off. “Hit the Road, Jack” was playing as his ringtone. I’m not kidding. I couldn’t dream this stuff up. Jacques did hit the road in search of his homies and I continued on my own, amused.

Words from the W.C – You know when you look at a word and you know it says one thing but you see something else? Well, there is a metro stop on my line called Miromensil. You guessed it. Every time I see it I think “Metamucil.” As I was riding the train toward home on Friday afternoon, it was more crowded than I have ever experienced. It was hot and smelly and we were packed in so tight that I didn’t have to hold on to anything becuase the other peeps were propping me up. A couple of stops, and more and more people were getting on while hardly anyone was getting off. “When are we going to get some relief? I implored the cosmos. Next stop “Metamucil.” Sure enough, mass exit. I guess that stuff works! Imploring the cosmos, I mean.

Friday’s theme songs aren’t hard to guess. We have “Free Man in Paris” by Ms. Mitchell.

And “Hit the Road Jack” by Mr. Ray Charles.

It’s already Sunday and I still haven’t told you about Saturday. Stay tuned! (Pun intended.)

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