8 Reasons Why I Love The French

franceLast weekend, Kim Kardashian was robbed — at gunpoint — in Paris.  What an unfortunate situation!

Here are 8 reasons why I love the French.

Food — The French do food the way the Russians do paranoid — it’s in their DNA, and they’re good at it.  They can detect the perfect onion at 10 kilometres and can toss a salad with their mind.  Their touch ripens fruit, and animals beg to be cooked in French kitchens.  In France, making kids eat their vegetables is a reward, not a punishment.  And you could run Texas mud through any French restaurant and come out the other side with a gourmet meal.

Women — French women are conspicuously sexy.  I suppose the men are, too, but from my side of the sexual equation, I don’t care.  And that’s the point: French women don’t care.  They’re totally comfortable with their sexuality, sensuality and all their other alities.  They don’t flirt; they don’t vamp; they don’t tease.  They just stand there and dare you to take them to bed.  Think of it this way: the French are the only nationality who has a kiss named after them.

Politics — French politics is played in that magical place where Downton Abbey meets Game of Thrones.  For example, the current Minister of Ecology is the ex-partner of the current President of the Republic. (They had 30 years and four children together, but thought marriage was too bourgeois.)  They became exes (just before an election where she ran for president) when she tossed him because he was having an affair with a journalist.  Since then, he become president, dumped the journalist and is currently having an affair with an actress.  Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are a bedtime story in comparison.  And I haven’t even mentioned Jacques Chirac, Nicolas Sarkozy, Madame Le Pen or her niece.

The French don’t have issues; they have wine — I suspect that the French are just as neurotic as the rest of us, but you’d never know it.  Their idea of therapy is “un verre de vin rouge” and if things get really rough, it’s “la bouteille, s’il vous plait.”

All the cool words we stole from them — savoir faire, esprit de corps, nouveau riche, menage a trois, forte, c’est la vie, bon vivant, de rigueur, beau geste, chic — and on and on and on.  These words are perfect and mean so much more than their translation.  That’s why we stole them.

Cartoons — French cartoonists are the last bastion of free thought on this planet.  They don’t give a donkey’s derriere about politically correct, and that’s the way it should be.  It’s called satire and French cartoonists practice it as a full contact sport.  They believe that if they don’t offend at least one person every day, they’re not doing their job.

Waiters — They’re not “servers” in France and don’t pretend to be.  Treat a French waiter properly and he/she will open up a whole world of delicious for you; piss them off, and you’re in for a long evening.  I was once in a restaurant in Paris and asked the waiter if I could have the steak medium.  He politely took the menu back and told me to go somewhere else.

Paris can’t be explained.

Syria: An Optimist’s View

syriaIt might be September, but Silly Season isn’t over.  This is the weirdest thing I have ever seen.

Last week, the Syrian Ministry of Tourism released a number of videos on YouTube.  Entitled Syria: Always Beatiful, (note the spelling) they’re promoting tourism to Syria.  SYRIA!  War-torn, bombed-out, poison-gassed, ripped-to-ratshit Syria!  It’s not exactly the place that comes to mind when one thinks: tourist destination.  Especially since the people who already live there are fleeing for their lives.  Rumour has it that U.S. Navy Seals don’t even go to there — it’s just too dangerous.

Frankly, I’m amazed Syria even has a Ministry of Tourism.  Why bother?  I haven’t tried, but I doubt very much if you can even get there from here — or from anywhere.  However, let’s just think for a moment about the genius who thought a couple of YouTube videos might possibly convince somebody (anybody) to book a flight to Damascus.  Whoever he was, he’s got to be the world’s biggest optimist.

And the video itself is a hoot.  It’s taken at “Fast Forward” from the air, and it looks as if an Obama observation drone got loose and is being chased by a Russian bomber.  One particular scene could almost be a strafing run from a J.J. Abrams movie.  And the entire video is just the same seaside resort, filmed from a number of different angles — like nobody’s going to notice that.  Then the whole thing is backed up by some really awful discount DJ music from before the turn of the century.

Anyway, good luck, folks!  I can’t imagine what your slogan is going to be: “Come see Syria.  You won’t get killed. We promise.”

English is a Bitch!

englishStill hung over from the party that was Italy, I spent last week fighting off jetlag and fighting with culture shock.  (North American streets are too wide, too clean and too new.)  Anyway, it gave me time to catch up on Games of Thrones and wonder about all manner of curious things.  For example, hearing a lot of English spoken as a second language, I realized that it’s a damn good thing I was born with English because there’s no way I could ever learn its nuances secondhand.  And honestly, I applaud anybody who can, because they’re tons smarter than I’ll ever be.

Check it out:

In English, we “take” things.  I think it comes from our marauding imperious past.
We “take” a bus.
We “take” a taxi.
And we “take” the train.
Of course, we give them back when we’re done with them, but there are other things we “take” and just devour, like:
We “take” a look.
We “take” a vacation.
We “take” a nap.

However, we can’t simply “take” everything in life because (thank God) a lot of stuff we just “get” like some kind of all-inclusive gift package.
We “get” an education.
We “get” a job.
We “get” married.
But when we “get” married we don’t automatically “get” children.  They’re not a gift.  We “have” children.  It’s as if they were some pre-ordained possession, like:
“having” friends,
or “having” an attitude,
or “having” dinner.

Unfortunately, once again though, we can’t just “have” everything.  Sometimes, we must become active participants and “make” it first.  For example, unless you’re incredibly wealthy, you need to “make” dinner before you can “have” dinner.  It’s a curious thought, but we “make” all kinds of things.
We “make” mistakes (by screwing up.)
We “make” progress (by not screwing up.)
We “make” money (although, strictly speaking, that’s illegal: we should “earn” it — like trust or good credit.)
And we also “make” love.
Although this is actually changing and most people don’t “make” love anymore, they just “have” sex and if that doesn’t say a bunch about contemporary society’s willingness to active participate in romance, I don’t know what does.

And now that you’re hopelessly confused, there’s the other side of the coin.  Not only do we “take,” “get,” “have” and “make,” we can also “lose” things.
We “lose” our keys.
We “lose” our patience.
We “lose” our tempers.
These are all things we can find again if we try hard enough.  However, there are other things that we can never get back.  Sometimes, when we “lose” our temper, we “get” into an argument, and if we “lose” that — well — it’s gone forever.  Kinda like “losing” your virginity — which, as we all know, can only happen if we “make” love, “have” sex or get “wasted at a sophomore kegger” — a phrase that’s impossible to translate into any other language — although most people understand the reference.

So to all those people who endured my terrible Spantalian (Spanish/Italian) and spoke to me in my language because I couldn’t really speak to them in theirs: I’m still in awe at your linguistic skill because — take it from a native speaker — the intricacies of English must be a bitch to learn.