The really big news here today and its effect are captured nicely in the opening sentence of the article from which the picture below is taken: "Ce matin, la France rigole". This morning, all France is laughing! I suppose, to be accurate, it should say "all France EXCEPT the fans of Olympique Marseilles is laughing", because our team, one of the most formidable in France, was eliminated from the Coupe de France tournament by Carquefou, a team which plays in an amateur league at or near the bottom of the multi-level soccer pyramid, several light years below OM. So one of the best teams in France, every one of whose starters is a full-time professional and millionaire, was beaten by a team some of whose members are: a real estate salesman, an administrative aide, a bartender, a bank employee, a student, a gym teacher and, the scorer of the only goal, a guy on unemployment.
This is not unlike the Yankees being beaten by the Sellwood Middle School team.
The prostrate figure in the photo below is Djibril Cisse, a native of Arles and therefore a home boy and favorite of the Marseilles fans, who is covered with tattoos and has a differently colored and styled coiffure every couple of weeks. He embodies the showbiz aspects of professional sports and he does a lot of posturing and finger-pointing. He's a striker, though, so I suppose a lot of that behavior comes with the position and he seems strangely likable. Paradoxically, although OM has played terribly in, and been eliminated from, every tournament it's been in this year it has played well and made a stunning comeback in the regular League 1 season. The team was plummeting into relegation (the bottom 3 teams at the end of the season are kicked down to the league below and the top 3 in that league come up to L1) but is now in 4th place, an amazing turnaround. As the noted American Philosopher of Sport, Al Michaels, has said: "Go figure!"
The dust is settling from the local elections, in which 36,700 municipalities of all shapes and sizes chose mayors and council members. If one of the candidates gets over 50% of the vote the first time around that candidate wins. If no one gets 50%, there's a second runoff election the following week - last Sunday. Apparently the vast majority of contests were determined the first week, with less than 4000 remaining to be determined by runoff (or second tour, as it's called). There was a slight shift to the left, as expected, in reaction against Nicolas Sarkozy and his party, the UMP, but nothing earth-shaking. I had to see the doctor this week and, speaking about the elections, he just laughed, shook his head and said something to the effect that "Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose" (the more things change the more.., etc.). Here in Eguilles the incumbent, a representative of the "center-right", was confirmed in his post by 56% of the first vote, so a second poll wasn't necessary. I've mentioned the good fortune we've had at a couple of crucial junctures in meeting really great people who've contributed to making this whole adventure possible. One was the woman who found our apartment for us, Rebecca. We met on the internet and just took a leap of faith and it couldn't have worked out better. She's originally from Australia, as is her husband, but they've been living here for 9 years or so. We hadn't actually met tete-a-tete until a few days ago, when Rebecca and her infant son, Jamie, and Lois and I got together at a cafe in Lambesc, a neighboring village where they live. I took some pictures of the village but somehow, incomprehensibly and unforgivably, came away without getting any of them, two of the most photogenic subjects it's been my fortune to encounter on this (or any) trip.
It's cold and windy today, but the sun is shining and spring is obviously enroute. These wild orchids, Orchis Tachete with an accent over the 2d 'e', are growing alongside the driveway. They're a protected species.
It's been unusually quiet around here this week because Michael is in the Alps with 75 other kids from his school on their annual ski trip. This is his first time on skis but it sounds like he's having a blast and remains ambulatory and uninjured, at least as of last night when we called him. (I'm always taken aback by how deep his voice sounds on the phone.) They're divided into groups according to skill and experience and he's in the charmingly named "Debutants". He'll be returning tomorrow afternoon.
It's just as well that he has something of a vacation this week (although I think the mornings are devoted to schoolwork) because last week he had 6 or 7 major exams, the second installment of the dreaded Trimestrials, and our household was in a state of high anxiety and chaos, as is usually the case when there's serious studying to be done. (I guess I should have said that it's just as well that we ALL have something of a vacation this week). Below you can see us studying French during one of the relatively quiet interludes that arose periodically when we became exhausted from wrangling with each other, and during which we were able to rest and recover enough energy to resume wrangling. And by the way, look at the flipper on that kid! He WAS born in Oregon, Land of the Webfoot, after all.
Another contretemps, if that's the word I want, occurred last week due to my inadequate facility with the French language. Our phone company is constantly sending text messages to our cell phones in a never-ending attempt to sell us stuff we don't want, and we've just gotten in the habit of deleting without reading them. For one thing, they're hard to read and, as I say, we've come to realize that they're the equivalent of junkmail. Well, apparently they had been sending me a series of warnings for the last couple weeks that if I didn't provide them with a copy of my Titre de Sejour, or resident's permit that I recently received, they would shut off my phone service. (But not, for some unfathomable reason known only to themselves, Lois' phone or our internet connection, although they, too, are in my name!) The first I knew of this was when I received a letter from them, and the next thing I knew my phone was dead. I sent them the papers they wanted and have been forgiven and restored to their good graces. So you can call me now.
Although our stay is only 2/3 over and we have 4 months remaining, our thoughts are turning toward home. And not just our thoughts. Yesterday we visited a travel agency in Aix and bought our plane tickets for the homeward journey, which will include stops in NY and NC to see our families. We figured that the dollar - I don't want to talk about it! - is not suddenly going to get more valuable in the next 4 months, nor is the price of oil going to take a dive, so we'd better get the tickets early. (It looks like we did the right thing, because today's paper announced a bunch of fare increases to compensate for rising oil prices.) Then, intoxicated by spending so much money, we spent some more (it's hard to stop once you've started!) on a moderately expensive lunch (we haven't eaten out for months), came home and paid our taxes! Ouch! We haven't spent so much money in a single day since we signed the papers to buy our house, lo these many years ago. My heart is still palpitating (or, as a friend once said in reference to his heart-stirrings for a buxom bartendress, "palipitating".)
We're looking forward to the beginning of the visiting season. There are some of you reading this whose rosy cheeks I'll be kissing a la mode Francais in the near future. I can hardly wait.
And I hope that those of you to whom I will not be able to personally administer the aforementioned gesture of affection and respect will accept the electronically transmitted version I am now dispatching in your direction, with a kiss-kiss bisou, as they say here, first on the left cheek - smooch - and then on the right - voila! Merci!
Au revoir!
Tom
