Monday, 23. June 2008, 02:05:00
One last evening of fun before leaving Paris behind.....I was awakened late this Sunday morning to a telephone call from dear friends from Norwich England who were in the city for the Fete de la Musique. They had recognized me from the crowd and tracked me down through one of the promoters, so we invited them up for a late breakfast on the balcony and caught up on old times till way past noon. It had been a very late night after the performance in the Place de la Republique (please excuse my French spelling, I’m doing it from memory).
As for the concert, it went very well and we were received with enthusiasm exceeding our own expectations. We started slow because of a bad amplifier hum and loud annoying clicks that almost stop the set, but were quickly resolved. Then the stage manager insisted on no encores for any reason because of time restraints. Like waving a red cape in front of a bull and being the rebels we are, we decided on the fly to close with a 17 minute version of the Door's “Roadhouse” with a long blistering jam in the middle that we worked out as a backup piece. We all thought it quite appropriate to play it in Paris.
We really didn’t want to stop and would probably still be playing if not for him pointing at the main stage breaker and made threatening hand signals.
Silly little man! We don’t understand French hand signals!
After my English friends went on there way we decided to walk the short distance to an outdoor café for lunch and on to see the city one last time. We really wanted to see the glass domes of the Galeries Lafayette, done in beautiful art nouveau style, and of course we had to arrange for some of our favorite wine we have discovered here to be shipped home. I also bought a small statue of a French girl kneeling to put in the garden at home that has to be shipped.
As we drove through the city we would occasionally stop to shop and listen to the street musicians, sometime sending the driver ahead a few blocks and wait so we could just walk awhile. Every block brought new smells and sites to the senses. The mime on a unicycle directing traffic, the bakery shops, a young girl selling flowers that would continued to appear from nowhere, all almost surreal when your sleep deprived.
At dusk we drove to up to Montmartre and walked the last few blocks up to Place du Tertre to see the city one last time as the lights came on for the evening. The colored spotlights from the festival events shining up into the air combining with the usual lighted landmarks was a memorable site see. It all became a little eerie after we were told that here, on this high point in the city once stood one of the gallows of the French Revolution.
While some places we went were very crowded, it was a wonderful time to be here. The city was full of music and artist, and some sites had extended hours to accommodate the extra visitors.
The late evening was spent having dinner at the apartments of a French couple we befriended in a sidewalk café second day here and spent the afternoon showing us some sites off the beaten path. She being a former school teacher, he being a retired assistant curator of the Musee de I’Orangerie that holds one of the largest collection of Claude Monet’s paintings. One afternoon last week they offered to give us a private tour of the museum and, being an expert on Monet, he gave a detail story and incite to each painting along with a thorough story of Monet’s life and times. They treated us as if we were royalty and he seemed to have enjoyed giving the tour as much as we did listening to his rich dissertation on Impressionisms and the painters of the period.
Our last waking hours in Paris were spent accepting the gracious invitation to the wonderful meal and engaging conversation with these newly found friends that will remain one of my fondest memories of my stay here. And I have a feeling we will meet again someday.
And I will miss our driver Jean. A young newlywed of 22, working toward her degree in Finance at the University who, at our service 24 hours a day, got us where ever we need to go on time, and give us many tips and much advice that made our time more useful than expected, and with all the “Class and Graciousness” that can be afforded strangers. Reluctantly accepting our offer to lunch with us while on duty one day, we all became instant friends. She said more than once “I’d love to see New York City someday”. And she shall, on me. I’m leaving with her tip 2 round trip tickets to N.Y.C. and a note to meet us there in Late August when she gets her break from work and before she returns to school.
And this time she gets to ride in the backseat!
Having spent most of the last 10 days here, I can’t help but feel a connection that I didn’t expect, but I guess I real should, after all I do have French blood in my veins. My maternal Grandfather was born in northern France, in a little village near the Belgian border, and after settling in Kansas, only became a naturalized American citizen after joining the Army and coming back here as a young artillery gunner during WWI to fight in the fields of his home country. After the war, he courted and married the daughter of French emigrants. My mother spoke mostly French until she started school.
And above my dresser at home, to the left of the mirror so I see it most everyday is a small black frame inclosing a Purple Heart Medal with the inscription “ June 11, 1944 D-Day + 5 ”, awarded to my father for wounds he received while making his way east to help liberate the very city from which I write.
Unfortunately I have experience a few anti-American sentiments from some young music fans that I talked to. I listened to their rants, but my manners only allowed me to ask one question, “Have you ever walked the cemeteries at Normandy?” Their answer was always no. I would say “Why not pay a visit sometime, then look me up and we’ll talk”. It cuts them off at the knees. I was once young and unappreciative too.
And I also see some disturbing cultural trends here that I had only read about, they seem to be much deeper than I expected. That’s all I choose to say on that.
I’m glad in a way I waited to see Paris till I could appreciate what I’ve seen, and in another way I wish I had come earlier, before my life was changed so drastically.
And I wish I could go into more detail of what I’ve seen, but time doesn’t permit it now.
There is so much to tell. Maybe more when I get home.
But now with no sleep tonight, it’s quick flight back to Malta for the island event Tuesday night and the business at hand. I have heard during tourist season when traffic permits, night flights out of Paris sometime circle the city as they leave…I hope this is case this evening.
We have decided to back out of the Glastonbury festival because of the quick turn around time to Malta and then to England in 2 days. Because of unreliable equipment transport and concert lineup changes, no guarantees of the cut of the gate because of gate jumpers and the lack of promised stage security, we feel the contract is not met. This was not a decision we made easily, Glastonbury being one of the last “Hippie Festivals “ left, and the band’s past music would probably be received the best there. But business is business.
With three weeks till Montreux, maybe a quick trip home for a few days....I’m beginning to miss the sounds of crickets at night.......
As we all know, word meanings and language have changed over the years, and our public innocents have faded, leaving us to see some things from the past in total different light, and sometime in unintended humor. 
And all night long, she'd sit up and think how she would like to be famous. Oh, to be famous, with untold riches and men falling at her feet, her own line of action figures, cardboard standees ........ 
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Soon afterwards we were off to my primary destination, the one place I said I would go, but only if I could spend as much time as I wanted. And not until then!
WIDGETIZE