Gay Pair-e

Here's another old myspace blog, from when I went to Paris last year...

Paris, pt I

Day 1 - The Flight

I seriously thought I would wake up at 8am, hop in the shower, shave and be out the door by 8:30

right

When I finally left (9:30) I realized I needed AA batteries for the camera that I never use but everyone insisted I bring along, and that, this being an extended European vacation, I should bring more jimmy hats.

DeLano's Market: Wandered the aisles for a couple of minutes, couldn't find anything, so...

"Hi"
"Hi, how can I help you"
"I'm looking for batteries and condoms"
(very professionally covered pause)
"OK, I think have those in the lock up over here."(looking)"I only have 4 packs of batteries, and am i blind, or do we not have... uh... the other thing?!"(helplessly)"Marnie! Do we have any... uh... come here a sec"(whispers)"Sir, they're over here"

Would you believe, after I got out of there, I realized she gave me AAA batteries?

My flight was on Air Canada. That's Canada as in not in the United States. An international flight, one would think. I was already at the airport an hour later than planned, so the fact that i couldn't find the terminal was a bit distressing. Finally went to information and asked where to go.

Air Canada, which only flies to destinations outside of the US, as in CANADA, is in the domestic terminals.

First leg: US/CAN crew- all announcements in English then repeated in French.

Layover in Montreal: Customs officials look annoyed that I would be in their airport after 8pm. Deli sandwich- who puts shredded cheese on a deli sandwich?

Second leg: CAN/French crew- announcements made with extensive details in French, a little mumbled recap in English.

Oh, and the Boeing 777 is a miracle. Something that big should not be able to fly.

Charles de Gaul Airport: baggage claim conveyor belt goes in more or less a straight line. If you don't get your bags, they go... somewhere else.

RER Train to Paris: Street musician plays the wind-up squeezebox harmonium thingy, "If I Was A Rich Man." I'm most certainly in France.
Decided to get off the train in Paris and wander a bit before going to Bois Colombe. Walked up the steps, and my first sight of Paris proper is, Notre Dame.

My First Parisian Hustler: Guy walks in path, drops a ring out of his sleeve as he pretends to see it on the ground. I'm sure some people might not have noticed there was no ring on the ground before he walked up, but we'll just give him that one.

This all happened in French - "Mister, you dropped your ring"
I don't wear jewelry, but how would he know "No, not mine"
"It's nice, though. Why don't you keep it?"
This is where he got points: he walked away as I kept walking, looking at the ring, wondering what use I had for a cheap fake gold ring that wasn't going to fit me, even if I did wear rings. So, dude walks back like he'd had some moral dilemma, and asks (in French) "I hate to ask but, could you spare a little cash for some food?"

I looked at him as if I had never heard such a thing come out of anyone's mouth.
He said (getting agitated) "Parlais vu Francais? Do you speak English?"
I said, "Si"
"Do you speak Italian?"
"Yes"

At this point, he lost it.

"MONEY, I NEED MONEY! I'M HUNGRY, GIVE ME MONEY!"
"Uh... no. Here's that ring you found. Go sell it and get some money."

The walk to the train to Bois Colombe was a little longer than I expected, but there was good sight seeing and people watching. Finally found the train station, and as long as the walk was, it took me about the same time to find the train platform

AUTOMATED TICKET KIOSK- good idea
AUTOMATED TICKET KIOSK THAT ONLY TAKES COINS AND THERE ARE NO CHANGE MACHINES IN THE STATION- bad idea
MAPS OF EVERY TRAIN AND SUBWAY LINE PASSING THROUGH THE STATION- good idea
NO GUIDE OF WHERE TO FIND EVERY TRAIN AND SUBWAY IN THE STATION- bad idea

Made it to Bois Colombe. Now, I have a little survivalist streak in me. Something that says 'drop me on the corner of any street in any city in the world and I'll figure things out,' so I never called my friend Sabrina to tell her when I would be at her apartment. She wasn't home when I first went to her apartment (which I was able to find without any help, thank you) so I figured I would call her cell phone. My cell won't work internationally, but there are pay phones everywhere in France.

These pay phones, unlike the train kiosks, don't take coins or credit cards, just some weird thing called a 'smartcard' which no store I could find sold.

Did I mention I had to pee?

After standing outside the apartment building like a vagabond for half an hour, i realized the intercom was either not working, or was very quiet.

...and that Sabrina had been home all along.

DAY 2- Lost in Bois Colombe

OK, I really thought I had a good sense of direction and intuition, but this city has kicked my butt. I thought San Francisco was bad, but here, the streets zig-zag, cross another street and get a different name, then go in a circle and put you back where you started. I walked about 2-3 miles, decided to turn back, and ended up walking completely around Bois Colombe, to a city a mile and a half on the other side. Hopefully I can find the shop with the 135e suits again.

I need to find a burrito, and shwarma.

Arabs in Europe are the analogue of Latinos in the US.

Sabrina has a friend, Sammie, who is incapable of speaking slowly or softly, this trait carries over to her driving. There are no lanes on major streets in Paris.

Fascinating

Sammie, Sabrina and her girlfriend (yes, that kind of girlfriend- I don't want to hear it), and I went for a drink on the Champs d'Elysee. It was around 10pm when we got there, and there were more people out than when I'd been there Friday afternoon.

Steak flavored potato chips?

DAY 3- Sunday, the day of rest

Sabrina and Mariana have cooked meals for me consisting of canned food and dehydrated food. I thought French people were all about cuisine?

I tried to go shopping, and found that everything is closed on Sunday. I mean EVERYTHING. I found one shop that had some pitiable produce and... you guessed it- tons of canned food!

DAY 4- TTD

Tonight, Terence Trent D'arby is playing a show. TTD in Paris- classic! I have caught a bit of a cold, the clouds have finally broken , so I need to get outside...

Went to the St Lazarre area, cool shopping district, though a bit touristy. Happened along a back alley and saw the first biological female prostitue I'd seen in a while (SF people know what I'm talking about). I wanted to go to the Artelano showroom and maybe say hi to Tatjana (LIMN people know who I'm talking about), but the showroom is open something crazy like:

Monday - 12:30 - 1:45/2:30 - 3:15
Tue-Fri - 11:30 - 3:30/4:30 - 7:15
Saturday - if we feel like it, maybe sometime
Sunday - are you kidding?

So, I didn't make it Monday, but I want to try again before I go.

OBSERVATIONS

I'm in France at a train station, and Foriegner is playing over the PA - what's wrong here?

I see more baby carriages here than I do in Noe Valley, and I didn't think that was possible.

Elderly Frenchmen look at you funny if you haven't polished your shoes.

Young Frenchmen still wear berets.

I never thought I would see a Frenchman at a Terence Trent D'arby show in Paris with an Iron Maiden wallet. Why would I think I would see that anyway?

TERENCE TRENT D"ARBY @ LE MOROQUINERE

This is why I want to move to Europe- A packed house on a Monday night to see someone who hasn't had a hit in nearly 20 years play all-new, experimental material. In SF, maybe 150 people would show up to hear him sing 'Wishing Well,' but you couldn't pay 300 people to listen to songs they'd never heard, no matter how good they are.

DAY 5

Got up early for some reason that wasn't too clear to me, and realized as I went outside, that the sun is entirely in the wrong place. I'm not used to this longitude.

Sabrina and Mariane (S&M, as I've come to refer to them) watch a damn lot of MTV. I haven't had cable in a long time, but I'd heard of the show 'Pimp my Ride.' I didn't know that there was a show that should be called 'Pimp my Daughter.' Seriously- a young guy goes out on dates with three mothers, who each try to convince him to go on a date with her daughter. I just got old.

The apartment is in need of paint and furniture and appliances and plumbing fixtures, so we took a trip to the French version of Home Depot. I suppose that it was much cooler than Home Depot because, it's French. I bought wallpaper.

I got it into my head that I wanted a burrito, so Mariana, who just got her license (it isn't the same right of passage as in the States) drove all through Paris with her GPS guide trying to find a Mexican restaurant. I should mention that Mariana used GPS because, even as a French native, Paris makes absolutely no sense. Needless to say, we didn't find the restaurant, so we went to a cafe. I ate salad with some warm mystery meat, a boiled egg, and a potato. It was better than it sounds, and totally normal to the girls. My entree was baked salmon in creme sauce. Tres bon.

Sabrina and I headed off for the Catacombs via subway. I should mention that Sabrina, even as a French native, stared at the subway map for 5 minutes and finally admitted she wasn't sure if she could figure out how to get there.

The Catacombs were closed.

We decided to go to the Louvre and asked information whether it would be better to take a train or the subway to get to there. They fought behind the desk, snatching a map out of each others' hands before deciding on the bus.

The Louvre was closed.

Sabrina and I went to meet Mariana at Gare St Lazarre. She was waiting for us at Starbucks.

Next thing you know, there'll be a Walgreens in the Louvre.

OBSERVATIONS

I haven't seen a skateboard in 5 days.

Life is so much easier wth tax calculated into store prices. Is it really that hard to do?

Despite my previous statements, 'Pimp my Ride' is palatable when dubbed in French.

Video stores are automated, supporting R. Buckminster Fuller's idea of removing unproductive jobs through technology.

Is there more use of common sense in France? Train doors are manually opened by commuters, sometimes before the train comes to a complete halt. In the US we say, "that's not child-proof," or, "the elderly or handicapped could fall out." The French say, "if you aren't capable of stepping out of a moving train, don't stand in the doorway."

Day 6

Returned to the Artelano showroom, and it was actually open this time. They have some really cool stuff that goes far beyond what LIMN shows. Speaking of LIMN, as the largest retailer of European furniture in North America, one would think it would be well known in the design world. No one I spoke with at the Artelano showroom had any idea what I was talking about.

The Artelano showroom is couple of blocks from Invalides, which is a series of tombs and museums dedicated to French military history. I didn't find out until later that Napoleon was laid to rest there, or I might have actually gone inside.

In the same relative neighborhood was the Rodin Museum, which I don't even begin to have words to describe.

Day 7

I'm actually feeling like I'm done here. I could stay for months, decades, or years, but having a few more days seems like too much. I'll have to keep that in mind for next time.

Shopping districts are the same everywhere:

Women's shop
Petite women's shop
Plus size women's shop
Maternal woman's shop
Bridal women's shop
Women's lingerie shop
Women's shoes shop
Men's tailorsuitactivewearunderwearshoe shop

How can I not be able to find cool men's clothes in PARIS!

I already had a predaliction towards European women, but it may well become an obsession

I'm sure I did more than attempt to shop today?

Day 8 Lunch at Chez Asselli

Sabrina's mother invited us over for lunch today. She's Algerian, but speaks decent Arabic, so when I couldn't figure out how to say something in French, I had that to fall back on. Funny thing is, she understands English pretty well, but didn't tell me until I'd been in her house for an hour and a half. Sabrina also has two sisters and one niece, who loves to dance. Her older sister kind of looks like one of my cousins.

We may go back tomorrow for couscous

I finally got some of the famous French attitude:

INTERIOR - GAUTIER COUTURE STORE
(a 12'x12' room packed with gaudy Jean Paul Gautier clothes, staffed by 3 employees having a vibrant conversation which stops the instant the door opens)

KEENAN: (unsure) Bonsoir monsieurs?
CLERKS: (with a sniff) Bonsoir.
CLERK 1: (speaks French, but gets no response) YOU ARE AMERICAIN? I CAN HELP YOU?
KEENAN: uhh...non...merci...au revoir
(EXIT)

I was wrong about not being able to find cool clothes in France. I can't afford cool clothes in France.

Day 9

Everything is still closed on Sundays.

I went to Chatelet, a very international district of Paris, which has some fascinating Modern architecture. I especially like the Modern Art Museum.

Later that afternoon Sabrina took me to the Eiffel Tower...

...in the rain

We decided to walk up the 580 steps to the second deck (the 3rd deck was only accessible via long line to the elevator). Despite my aversion to all things toursity, I really did enjoy climbing the Tower and seeing the views of Paris, and remembering that this is one those wonder-of-the-world things.

Did I mention how much I love rain?

To all those who demanded pictorial documentation, forgot to change the batteries in my camera before going to the Eiffel Tower, so, no pics.

I think Bois-Colombes is District B13 (Those who know what I'm talking about, know what I'm talking about)

The subway isn't any more difficult than other cities, just more complex. One just needs to have general geographic knowledge of Paris (which I had after about 2 days), and some idea of what is close to where one is going. Even Parisian natives will never have the entire system committed to memory, so don't be afraid to look at the maps.

Day 10

I went back to Chatelet, and found that what I thought was an art pavilion, is actually the top of an underground shopping mall (Le Halles).

The French can rock a hot dog. Any one who knows me, knows I don't care much for hot dogs, but the boulangeries here do things to hot dogs that will never see the inside of a baseball stadium. Start with a 15", mystery meat-free, all beef dog. Place it in a half size baguette. Cover the whole thing in as much cheese as you can find, then bake it to golden brown perfection. I wish I hadn't waited 10 days to eat one of these.

I can't leave without one of those cable knit turtleneck sweaters with the buttons on the shoulder. I might get stopped at customs if I don't have one.

Christmas is in the air, and unlike in the States, it feels like there is a holiday coming, and not a series of big sales.

Americans do not have a lock on smelly, crazy, homeless people. This dude on the train is quacking at people if they come too close to him... Quacking. Daffy Duck freakout style.

Oh, and I got the cable knit turtleneck sweater with the buttons on the shoulder.

Day 11

Spent quite a large portion of my day looking for touristy gifty things

Public transit workers are ready to go on strike... Time for me to go.

Really.

So I left at 8am to get to CDG by 11:30. Should take 45-60 minutes.

SNCF from Bois-Colombes to Gare St. Lazarre, no problem.

Bois-Colombes to Chatelet, no problem.

Chatelet to CDG...

Chatelet to CDG...

Chatelet to CDG...

Chatelet to CDG...

Okay, I better get a cab.

35e ($50) later, "Sorry, boarding for your flight has closed, and it is the last flight of the day. You will have to book a flight for tomorrow."

"...oh..."

"...ok..."

It's happy hour in Dubai.

The waitress at the airport coffee shop would fit in in any truck stop across the United States, if she wasn't French.

I finally broke down and ate the first meal at McDonald's in years, and I'm doing it in Charles De Gaul airport. Kinda makes it feel OK.

A lot of people fly from Paris to Israel, they seem to have flights hourly.

Would there be domestic and international terminals in European airports? I'm just thinking that France is a little bigger than Wisconsin, so what would be the point?

There are a few other people spending quality time in the airport tonight. We've each taken our own waiting room-booth-kiosk-vitrine. It is an interesting synchronicity: sleep for 45 minutes, stare off into space, one of the neighbors walks by, read, be one of the neighbors
walking by everyone else, go back, and repeat.

Day 11 1/2

I'm pretty sure it is Thursday morning, stumbling through the duty-free with a bottle of Absinthe (yes, my final destination is Toronto). On the plane. So delusional I wonder if they can stop by my house on the way.

Toronto is pretty from the sky.

I'm going home

I have a gig tomorrow.