I remember Paris

I guess it’s the cold weather and the rum, but I prefer to remember the City of Lights in my own way, from my own times there – and this helps blow out the cobwebs a bit. I know I’ve blogged it before…but it’s irresistible to me.
We hung-out at a friend’s cramped 7th floor walk-up, on the Rue Du Four in/on the Left Bank, in a decrepit building at a height from which we could only see other rooftops. We smoked blue Gauloise and ate yogurt, chocolate, butter, and bread – and juggled oranges by the river, panhandling on a lark. I shot a lot of picture before my camera was stolen.

My other enduring memory-prompt (also in a repeat appearance here) from that era was the very stylish, atmospheric, and cool French gangster-film by Jean-Jacques Beineix, with gorgeous Opera singer Wilhelmenia Fernandez in DIVA – and the incredible moped subway chase-scene (for it’s time a real tour-de-force).

Au revoir Paris, I have no idea what you are like now.

About NotClauswitz

The semi-sprawling adventures of a culturally hegemonic former flat-lander and anti-idiotarian individualist, fleeing the toxic cultural smug emitted by self-satisfied lotus-eating low-land Tesla-driving floppy-hat wearing lizadroid-Leftbat Califorganic eco-tofuistas ~

One thought on “I remember Paris

  1. I feel it too, mon ami. Climbed the 87 zillion steps of the Tour Eiffel, drank in all the finest the Musees d’Orsay and Rodin could offer, fell in love with a French girl, the whole works. And can honestly say I saw about two dozen Arabs the whole time. But that was 30 years ago….
    Always liked Plastic Bertrand’s version of Major Tom, too.


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