Spy Games (by Special Request)

When you watch a movie like the Bourne Identity or Ronin, you suspend your disbelief. There are spies out there. Spies that fight like ninjas, dodge bullets, and can outthink a pack of hungry jackals.

No one ever thinks that they will come across these people in real life.

Ireland is known for having a few pubs. A funny thing happens in these pubs. People drink.

Sometimes, they drink too much.

So maybe there I was, sitting outside a pub, drinking perhaps. And maybe there were two grown men, dressed in business attire, possibly smashed beyond coherence just a few pubs down. The one man might have started singing while the other used his head to prop up a wall.

This might have a normal evening out, had it not been a clever ruse.

Something alerted these men. Was it a gesture from the woman in the café across the street? Was it a signal from an unknown man barking orders through an earpiece? Had the package been delivered?

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

“Move out.”

Guns drawn, the two men cover each other and move down the street. Alerted to some unseen danger, they deftly fly from cover to cover, communicating and searching for targets.

“12 o’clock.”

The man who apparently lacked the strength to support his head dive rolls behind concrete stairs. His partner peers around from his cover.

“All clear.”

Danger abated, the men stride down the street as if nothing happened.

Could this have been a false alarm? Could this have been an international incident narrowly missed?

It could have been.

However, your pointer finger is devoid of ammunition, stumbling is not he the new striding, and dive rolls should not look that painful.

They definitely drank too much, but bless them for it.

Bastille Day

Those of us lucky enough to be in Paris on certain anniversary’s are in for a treat. This year, we all happened to be so lucky.

Bastille Day is a national Holiday. Referred to as the 14th of July, this is the celebration of the Republic. On the 14th of July, the fortress at Bastille was stormed for mostly gunpowder and ammo. Typically, this fortress also housed political prisoners, but at the time, no one of major importance was in residence (unless, of course, you talked to their mothers).

The celebration this year took place on the Champ’s du Mars and the Jardin du Trocadero. Wedged in between, of course, is the Eiffel Tower.

The main act of the evening was Johnny Hallyday. This man is a legend in France. Think if Elvis was French and still living. He is a cornerstone of modern French music and certainly a piece of French pride. Being a national celebration and the 120th birthday of the Eiffel Tour, he was a natural choice. The grand finale highlighted with the lights of the tower was a magnificent ending to a wonderful set.

But that was just the beginning.

The most amazing part of the evening was the combination light show and fireworks display. This was a whole new level of show.

As it turns out, a space-age light system is rigged to project onto the tower. This is no ordinary light system; it can project, in full clarity, onto the 324 meter structure.

Pretty bad-ass, non?

The show presented a history of France for the past 120 years. Simply, it was amazing. The artistic vision lit on the tower was moving, even for a foreigner. The addition of music and fireworks were synthesized masterfully.

Even more surprising was the honesty of the pieces presented. True historical miseries were not glossed over. Yes, the national pride overwhelmed you, but even on this evening, it was humbling to see admissions that everything was not perfect in the last 120 years.

This was not some small show, either. 1 million people showed up.

Of course, the metro is not designed for 1 million people.

It was a nice walk home.

Cameos (Filler)

Today was my first experience as a French employee: blowing off a meeting because I will be on vacation.

In that vein, there is more filler this week. But rest not, this filler is good.

A bit ago, some of my friends joined me for a few nights on their Paris trip. One just so happens to be an awesome comic artist. You can find her comic journal of her most recent Paris trip here.

Yours truly has cameos here, here and here.

Enjoy.

Sister Cities

France and Chicago are sister cities. This designation is probably no more than the occasional dinner between mayors. Who has said, “thanks to the relationship with our sister city, my life is profoundly better”? Not even the occasional sharing of the “velo” idea will deeply impact the respective denizens.

Good thing corruption is alive and well.

To be fair, corruption is a strong term. In France, this can be good fiscal policy. Not only do you keep people employed, but by their employment, they can purchase goods created by other people. The economic circle of life marches.

St. Cloud is a lovely suburb inhabited by a very nice coworker. Upon returning home from said suburb, one can take the tram into Paris. The tram is different than the train in that it is set up more like a bus on a rail. There is no place for your ticket to enter the track; you must do so on the tram itself.

Unless you live in the suburbs, you have little experience with the tram. Normally, you can get your bearings and realize that you should scan your Navigo or ticket into the appropriate place. This is different than the train or metro as the ticket scan is done at the station. One has no reasonable way of immediately knowing this for the first time.

The tram pulls in, and the first thing you realize is that in spite of a long track, it is short. So short, in fact, you may have to run to jump aboard. I run.

I swipe my Navigo, and so does another person in my party. A third is ticketing around Paris and does not put his ticket in the appropriate slot. This is an honest mistake as the tram is a new French system of public transportation to this person. Also, the six men with batons standing around the machine look a tad threatening.

Good rule of thumb, stay away from French men with riot gear.

A man stops us and performs the usual public transit inspection. I and my one friend show our Navigo’s. Ding! Success.

My other friend shows his ticket. He did not swipe the ticket. This is a tram sin. It does not matter if you are new, or that the French police block the dispenser, or that this system of payment, though train-like, is not like the other train-like systems, or that you had a ticket with the intention of paying. No, this bureaucracy demands prompt insertion into the ticket machine, regardless of circumstance.

You should know or you should be able to talk your way out of the situation.

So the fine is paid. As a final spite, my friend pays the 25 Euro fine with a 50 Euro bill. If you know anything about the French, they despise anything but exact change.

I snap a photo of the guys. They did not like this. Thinking that it could be illegal, I delete the photo for the kind man with the baton. I have a new phone, of course, and cannot quite figure out how to use it.

I ask him when the last RER train is. He tells me even though I use “tu”. Officers are usually “vous”. He is not special, I make this mistake often. At any rate, he realizes my American deficiency and seems fine with “tu”. That, and in the spirit of French irony, he probably thinks this system is bullshit as well.

We all get to our respective homes without further incident.

This episode reminds me of every Chicago parking ticket glued to my car. Regardless of every intention to follow the rules, miss one Draconian clause, and you are poorer for it.

At least we have family.

I Love Parisian Parks

You may have noticed there has been no mention of the catacombs yet. No Louvre reference seen here either. Eiffel Tower? Non-existent in this neck of the woods. Why?

I love Parisian parks.

The weather in Paris this summer has been spectacular. All right, if you are a Parisian, you are worried that summer is wasting away without any warmth. If you are from the Chicagoland area, however, you marvel at the lack of humidity, the mild temperatures, and the absence of tornados.

Paradise.

My home is near Tuileries. Most Parisians cock their head at me when I say I like it. However, it is close and if you go around the square, not that crowded. True, there are special events, and there are plenty of tourists every dry day. However, being able to run in an open air museum is nice. Further, there are many benches and chairs about the entire park. These are perfect for reading. Statues adorn the scenery and plenty of shade hides fair skin from the sun’s evil rays.

For some perspective, the past two winters transformed Chicagoland into tundra of frigid desolation. Twenty degrees Fahrenheit was a warm day. This spawned in many of us a need to appreciate a day with good weather.

And in Paris, and there are many days with good weather.

If you find the good metro map, the one with the landmarks and green splotches for parks, you realize there are a lot of green splotches. With the good weather, and some free time, I am compelled to explore these green splotches.

When you arrive at one park, it encourages you to explore another. Each park has at least some bit of charm. Let it be a simple statue, or unique positioning within the landscape, or amazing serenity in the middle of a metropolis. Each one has something special and each one encourages you to see what else is there.

There are too many green splotches to have explored them all just yet (and maybe not ever). This is not saddening, as the adventure is not for the completion of the task.

The task is for the adventure.