Paris Journal 2011 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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This morning I went to the 9-11 concert and program in the Luxembourg Gardens. In spite of a light rain, there was still a crowd gathered in front of the gazebo/stage. It was easy to find a seat, because every 15 minutes or so, somebody would leave due to the rain. I was only a few minutes late, so I was able to hear most of the performance by the gospel group. I really could not tell if they were American or French, but probably American. They sang a few rollicking spirituals in English, then one more sedate song in French. It was quite moving. Even more moving was the next vocalist, a French woman who sang “Amazing Grace.” She brought tears to my eyes. Then she turned “Amazing Grace” into a jazz riff, with different lyrics. Fabulous. She followed that with a soulful song in Yiddish. Then she asked the crowd if they wanted another. The entire crowd shouted “Oui!” almost in unison. So she sang “St. James Infirmary.” Her rendition was excellent, even if you could tell she was not a native speaker of English. What really touched me was how much all these French people seem to love the American music. It warms my heart. Next was a speech by a Pakistani man. It was okay, until he started describing in graphic detail what some terrorists in Pakistan and Afghanistan had done to some children. All programs we have attended in this spot in the Luxembourg Gardens have had lots of families with kids in the crowd. Upon hearing the gruesome descriptions the Pakistani man was giving, one child in the middle of the crowd started bawling loudly. I noticed other parents and grandparents gathering up their kids and preparing to leave. But very soon the man’s speech was over, and people applauded modestly and politely, and the families returned to their places. He’d misjudged the audience; clearly he thought he’d be speaking to adults only. The final vocalist was a French woman in a bright red dress, wearing lots of makeup. She would have been great at singing traditional French songs. But instead, she was singing some modern thing that had been composed for the occasion, and it was very hard to listen to because of its cacophony. By that point, my trouser legs were a little too damp, so I left. Tom and I will go back at 2:30 this afternoon for two more concerts – by a Dixieland Band, and a big band called Puissance Jazz. We’ve heard them before. Back at the apartment, I cooked a little breakfast for lunch, and now we sit at our posts at the computers. Tom is sending page proofs of chapters for the second edition of Back to the Lake to the publisher on a regular basis – weekends and week days, Labor Day and 9/11 included. Work, work, work. Yesterday, unlike today, was warm, sunny and gorgeous. At about 2:30, I grabbed by Kindle and my camera and announced to Tom that I was going to the park (a.k.a. Luxembourg Gardens) to read in the sunshine. I tried, but no matter where I sat, some young woman smoking illegally (smoking is forbidden in this park) and yakking incessantly on her cell phone would sit next to me. I called Tom and told him that instead of being where I said I’d be, I was going to walk over to the other side of the park to the gazebo/stage because I could hear that a band was playing. I didn’t know what kind of band because I was too far away. I took my seat, delighted to see that this was a jazz band that calls itself Big Band Jazzique System. Please don’t ask me to explain the French attempts to name things using English words. They do it sometimes, and they think it makes sense, but it leaves us scratching our heads. Big Band Jazzique System??? They were good, but like many French big bands that we’ve heard, they have a hard time with the concept of swing. They try to swing, but it just doesn’t quite work, for most of these groups. Nevertheless, we enjoyed it. (So it isn’t true that “It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.” It is only slightly true.) The best part was that when Tom arrived, I could see him coming, and it was just as the drummer was beginning a fabulous drum solo. So Tom walked right up to the back of the gazebo where he could watch the drummer up close. He was delighted. After that number ended, during the applause I was able to stand up and catch Tom’s eye, gesturing at the seat I managed to get for him, right next to mine. So we heard more jazz, including American music, bien sur. After that fun, we walked back to the apartment, grabbed our shopping bags and went to the Saint Germain market in anticipation of it being closed Sunday/Monday. We needed to stock up for the weekend. That was fun, as usual, and we enjoyed joking around with Mr. and Mrs. Sanders’ son who was helping out at the fromagerie on the weekend. In the evening, we decided we only wanted a light dinner, so we walked down the rue de Seine/rue de Tournon to the Café Tournon. The owner was outside having a cigarette with the cook, and greeted us on sight. When we were seated, a new server came over and asked us if we wanted to speak English or French with him. How nice of him to ask! We said French, because the taste of the food is better in French. He liked that. He explained rapidly but clearly that instead of the cod daily special, they were now replacing it with skate, and it would not be served with the puréed potatoes, but instead would be on a salad. I said, “Raie! J’aime ça. La raie, s’il vous plait.” For some reason, he seemed a little surprised. I guess he thought Americans would not like skate. What surprises me is why it isn’t served much more often in Florida than it is. Tom ordered another one of the daily specials, the pork chop. It was excellent. And I loved my salad with skate. It was sort of like Niçoise salad, but much better. Not long after we’d started our main courses, the funny new server came over and asked me to tell him what the English word is for raie. I answered, “Ray, sting ray, or skate.” He quickly practiced saying each, then scurried over to a table at the other end of the dining room where he was helping English-speaking diners. The dessert of the day was a pain perdu aux poires caramel. This is kind of like French toast, with poached pears in a light caramel sauce. It was small, and we shared one, so it wasn’t too much at all. And it was yummy. When we left, the two servers, the bartender, and the boss all called out to wish us a good evening from the various parts of the restaurant. We felt the love. We have never experienced French animosity toward Americans. I think I’ve explained before the reasons why I suspect some American tourists do think they have. But we haven’t, and what’s more, I think in the past couple years, I’ve detected that they actually love Americans, even more than before. I think I know why. Do you? Sign
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Sunday, September 11, 2011
The top of
the Senate building, the Luxembourg Palace, as seen from the rue de Vaugirard.
The lead
saxophone player, Jean-Yves Prat, in Big Band Jazzique System, a French big band. Below, the band’s American vocalist, Joshua
Karson.
The rue de Vaugirard by the Luxembourg Palace at night. Notice the guards on duty, making this a
very safe place to walk.
Looking out
our kitchen window, we now see a nice little display on a neighbor’s
windowsill. Cute! |
