Paris is a city that is obsessed with, of all things, teeter totters. There is a bascule chancellent almost everywhere we go, making me think that they were invented in France and they are demonstrating their pride. Malcolm really enjoys them for around 10 seconds, then is indifferent for a few moments before asking to be let down. Doh! He says. If you do not heed his call, the whine comes and then some serious crying. The teeter totters come in all shapes and sizes, from a solo, to the standard two seater, and I have even seen a four seater! I enjoy them, maybe Malcolm will acquire the taste.
Lunch
On our first trip out I saw a Turkish take out place by the Jardin de Plantes. I wanted to go to another Jardin today (de Luxembourg) but needed to stop for lunch first. As I contemplated whether to go back to the first place I saw, I realized I was probably making a huge mistake (kinda like walking a half mile for a Starbucks you saw previously, only to find they are everywhere). Sure enough, I quickly found two Turkish delis, and ordered myself a little piece of heaven in flatbread. Chicken was on the menu today and Malcolm and I took turns eating the sandwich, also filled with lettuce and yogurt sauce, and soggy fries. While we munched, we took in the park we stopped in and noticed how many benches were taken by people sleeping. I was interested in knowing whether they were regular people napping during a lunch break, tourists napping in between sightseeing expeditions, or homeless people. I didn’t end up waking anyone and asking as I had not yet perfect the phrase, “excuse me, are you a hobo?” in French.
Park Adventures
We continued on to the Jardin de Luxembourg. It really does take some getting used to the grand scale here in Paris. Everything is large, majestic and very artistic looking. This park had a very nice palace (it was used by Henry VIII for satan worshipping) and an endless number of pathways cutting through the trees. Remember, never go into anything and take a tour, that’s where they get you! By the way, Malcolm understands the process of taking pictures. I used to be able to get him to look at the camera and occasionally smile. He has figured this out now, so when I say, “look at daddy! or say cheese!” he looks down and the ground and says NO! Smart little bugger…
We found a playground and it was more like a mini-amusement park. There was a ton of different fun, wildly dangerous things to do, the only downside was that it cost € 5. I think that is the symbol for the Euro, at least that’s what MS Word is telling me. Having saved a ton of money by walking by attractions and staying outside of them, I was flushed with cash and splurged for Malcolm and I. Here is Malcolm in the middle of it all (groan for veiled reference to TV show malcolm was named after, we are HUGE Jane Kaczmarek fans). Right after this picture was taken, Malcolm was took 3 handfuls of sand in the face from the kid on the left.
This place had a merry-go-round, and it was old school: metal, manually operated, and blood stains everywhere. Kids whirled themselves around for up to half an hour at break neck speeds, giggling wildly the whole time. There must be something about being 5 years old that allows you to spin around endlessly, because I started feeling woozy shortly after starting and Malcolm stumbled in fits of dizziness after only 6 or 7 turns. Here he is with the look on his face I get in Reno after I have been there for 48 hours. On the slower little kids version Malcolm and two new friends went around at a leisurely pace, I would tickle each one as they went by. I am not sure if there are any cultural taboos about touching other kids here, but they all seemed to enjoy and it they laughed non-stop for 10 minutes or so.
They also had a rope structure that the kids could climb up and the amazing thing was that it was about 2 stories tall. It wasn’t a surprise that these no longer exist in America, as a kid dislocated his elbow plummeting from halfway up and went crying to mommy. These people have a front row seat for the carnage! I think I heard them betting on who the next to fall would be. Malcolm knows his limitations and wouldn’t go near the thing.
Malcolm made some friends playing around in the Jungle Gym as well. The kids would try to tell me things (in French!) so I would cluck and nod, then point to Malcolm and make a funny face. They would stare at me in disbelief, and then run off to Mommy, complaining of the murderer over by the monkey bars. I assumed that most of the kids there spoke French, so I was a little embarrassed when I told Malcolm to stay away from the kid with the infectious looking red blotches all over his legs. To my surprise (and embarrassment) the kid asked why kids won’t play with him anymore. I told elephant boy that there was a dancing bear right behind him (that always works) and then grabbed Malcolm by the hand and took off. Whew! Another close call. We withdrew to a quieter, less sickly part of the playground.
Errands and Shopping
I bought a phrasebook! Lookout world, I am going to parlay with vous. I decided that if I was going to make it here, I was going to need to learn some key phrases, although I was reminded of the expressions, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
Armed with very little knowledge, I headed to the car park, confident that I would able to say Je ne parle francois, parlay vous anglais s’il vous plait. This means I don’t speak French, what a plan! I guess I figured they would be so impressed with how hard I tried to learn their language (only enough to say I don’t speak their language, of course) that they would rush to get the one person that spoke English and everything would be alright. Well, when I got there, and asked if the man spoke English, of course he said no! Oh well, I tried.
So I pointed to the price list, clucked a little here, motioned a little there did some sort of interpretive dance involving me driving and flailing about with horns on my head while stomping my feet ( I think I confused myself a little and starting re-enacting scenes from th
e movie “Dances with Wolves”). Eventually the two of us figured each other out, and I parked the car for 2 weeks for about 75% of the cost of parking it in London for 1 week. Not too shabby! While he was running the credit card, I even put together the sentence for asking where the elevator is in French. Me! Speaking French! Who’s the man now dog? Never thought this kid would be asking (successfully mind you) where the ascenser was huh? I liked the guy, he liked me and we continued our half speaking a language the other didn’t understand, half dancing/clucking/nodding/pointing/eye rolling/cursing under his breath at me until I knew how to get into the garage and how to exit and return there.
I was pretty impressed with myself when I left, so I headed to a supermarche for some supplies. I found one I could actually get the stroller into and promptly went nuts! Malcolm had fallen asleep, so I was free to pick and choose my way through the store. This was the “big” store and was about the size of a 7-11 store back home. Not that I am complaining, I was in heaven having visited the previous stores that were about the size of a walk in closet. Everyone else there had a small bag or so of itmes that they stood in line and bagged themselves. I, on the other hand, piled the stroller up high with stuff, turning the sleek and stylish Bob Revolution into something straight out of the Beverly Hillbillies. I couldn’t really steer the stroller at the end, I was so busy holding everything together so that it wouldn’t topple off the stroller. Anyways I had about 8 bags of groceries stuck into every nook and cranny of the stroller and proceeded to hog the entire line, and then monopolized my checker’s time for around 20 minutes with grocery bagging (you bag your own here, unless you are a moron, which I “pretend” to be) and paying. We made it out, and we have food at our place! I am not sure all that cheese was paid for though. Actually groceries are quite inexpensive here, and we will save a lot of money by not eating out all the time.
I love that stroller. Some people are addicted to booze, others to drugs, still others to gambling or internet porn. I am addicted to the Bob Revolution. I can put so much stuff in that sucker that it is really like having a 15 pound moveable storage locker. Want some water? It’s underneath in the basket. A cracker you say? Sure, in the top middle of the handlebar organizer. Coffee and sippy cups go in the drink holders. Warmer clothes go in the second basket (underneath all the stolen cheese), and the diaper bag hangs from handlebar. If, god forbid, anything should ever happen to Malcolm, I think I would continue to go out and about with the stroller. It’s not that I would be honoring his memory by having his ghost sit in the stroller or anything like that, it’s more like I wouldn’t be able to fit everything I wanted to bring with me in my pockets. Hopefully, both Malcolm and the stroller will be with us for a while, even when Malcolm has outgrown it and thinks it’s weird daddy has a three-wheeled purse.
Fun with Cheese
I tried to make mac n cheese tonight with a cheese that looks like it was designed to be placed in a fire. At least that was what was on the packaging. I know my first cheese experience should have been with fresh cheese from one of neighborhood formaggeries, and not something that had packaging, but I really didn’t want to waste anything good on mac n cheese. The cheese ended up being ok, it was a little tart though and tasted like good macaroni and cheese about three days after it had passed its prime. My review doesn’t really matter however, as Malcolm absolutely loved it! The only reason I ended up making it, was that I thought it would be a good broccoli delivery system. When he refused to eat the brocco outright, I started hiding little pieces inside the huge elbow noodles I had gotten, and he ate the few he couldn’t tell had secret packages inside. To go with it, I sautéed some chicken in herbs de provence (and a good deal of butter) and voila, it was a splendid meal.
Amy wasn’t around for the first meal, however, since she was stuck at a conference, unless Amy’s boss is reading this and then she was energetically interfacing to learn how to better leverage underutilized resources. What that means, I do not know, but she seems to (not really) and enjoys the conference. Her story would be more believable though if she didn’t return home each night from the “conference” with Mickey Mouse ears, smelling of cotton candy and pirate. She had quite a time getting registered for the conference and when she finally did get a registration badge for the affair, she wore it like a “badge” of honor. (snicker, snicker, snicker. Imagine me making some sort of snorting noise now). When she did return, she had bloody, blistered ankles from walking all over the place, and vowed to only wear sandals and tennis shoes from here on out. Good luck making that work in a suit.
Our Alleymate
So the alley that we live on is about 10 feet wide, meaning the people who live across the street from us are 10 feet away. This wouldn’t be a problem except that the guy straight across from us is quite the social butterfly. So far, he has had different women in his flat each night, and he spends a good deal of time hanging out his window smoking while either seducing tonight’s plat bleu spécial, talking on the phone or yelling down to people on the street. Except he does all this in like 4 different languages. As you can tell, the irritation I have for him is strictly jealousy. He speaks French to tonight’s brunette, and then gets a call to an old Spanish flame, before yelling down to the Italians on the street. Man this guy is good. I take solace in the fact that he probably doesn’t have a cool wife, or fun baby, stolen cheese or even a stroller, so I smile quietly to myself and fall asleep knowing how lucky I am. Until the bastard wakes me up by making some new friends on the street. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! CLOSE THE WINDOW AND GO WATCH SOME TV!



Have you hung a screamin Malkie out the window in response?
We still have rope structures at our parks in California!! Awesome !