Paris:- Sunday, 29. December 1996:- A long time ago I was a 'guest worker' in Germany and one time the boss told me and a fellow from Baden to go to a suite in the Park Hotel and empty some postal sacks.

We went over there and found the suite - to be full with hundreds of sacks. Our job was simple; open each one and pour its contents out in the middle of the floor of the main room. I do not remember how many sacks there were, but a postal guy told us there were about 35,000 postcards in each sack, and when we finished - in the afternoon, after a good steak lunch and several drinks - there were 1.5 million postcards on the floor.

About 15:00 the boss came in with a staff photographer and a cute model hired for the occasion. She perched on the mountain of cards, the photographer took three shots and we all retired to the hospitality table for cocktails after a successful job well done. The boss, the photographer and the model left about 20 minutes after arriving.

We looked at the mountain of postcards and the mountains of empty postal sacks, shrugged our shoulders, and went back to the office and fooled around for the rest of the day.

The 1.5 million postcards were contest entries. The winner had already been picked by a notary. Out little gig at the hotel was just for the photo.

Now We Open the Sealed Envelope

Despite the elaborate methods I dreamed up for choosing the winners of the Metropole's Paris Christmas Window Contest, which has been running for the past two issues, the actual choice of the winners has been simplified by receiving a grand total of two entries.

The short and near-sighted reader who wrote to say how great the windows were in his town, forgot to actually vote for one in Paris. Instead, Mr. Harding wrote, "Okay, what about if it's a ten franc piece instead? The point is that I have seen many Parisians give people money, in spite of the fact that the metro is filled with people making such requests. I thought it might be nice to acknowledge their generosity. If they tried throwing me off the train, I would shout "'But I'm from Nebraska!'" at the top of my lungs."

These are the texts of the actual entries:

Date: Mon, 23 Dec 1996 From: 'M. Harmon' via the Internet Subject: Printemps

OK, there you go. I really do like the blue cats. Hope I win, but it doesn't matter cause I'm famous now for having been mentioned in your magazine. Thanks dude.

Date: Thu, 26 Dec 1996 From: Dana Shaw via AOL Subject: Window Contest

A bit difficult to make out all the details, but I always seem to root for the underdog, the little guy, so please cast my ballot for 'A LA POUPEE.'

I judge neither Mr. Harmon nor Mr. Shaw to be either first or second, but tied.

The two entrants selected the following windows: from part two of the contest in Metropole issue 1.44 - Monday, 23. December 1996:

Number 5. - Printemps - boulevard Haussmann, Paris 9 - several windows with animations, all windows with the theme 'Christmas in Alsace.'

Number 6. - A La Poupée Merveilleuse - rue du Temple, near rue de Rivoli - a small shop with masks and party effects for every occasion, including this season's.

And a 'Surprise' Bonus Winner!

I have no idea who it was who ordained that every contest must have three winners - which might present problems to ordinary people with only two entries - but last week I wrote, to reassure contestants, 'Enter Today! No fraud contest! Small prizes and few of them, but really real!'

As I see, after consulting the contest rules, that 'no fraud' has taken place, I have decided to award the remaining prize to Makiko Suzuki of Japan, for services rendered to Metropole.

Although Dana Shaw, another contest winner, was the first to contribute a 'reader's letter' to Metropole, Makiko has contributed two features, about her life in Paris as a student. Not only that, Makiko runs an Internet club of fans of Paris in Japan, while teaching them about how the Internet works, and hands out Metropole's URL to people who don't even ask for it.

Makiko also provides answers to questions I have about Japan, such as this comment received yesterday:

"I think the Japanese New Year is much more meaningful than Christmas, which was 'exported' from the U.S. after WWII. On New Year's Eve kids are allowed to stay up after midnight. When temples' gongs finish ringing, which tells you it's New Year's Day, people go to the temples or shrines to wish for this year's happiness. On New Year's morning we eat special dinner called 'osechi,' drink 'otoso,' a special drink of New Year's Day and celebrate this special day. After the dinner, we enjoy games, invite friends or visit friends. This is one of the typical ways of 'how to' spend a Japanese New Year's Day.

"To tell the truth, I like it very much! However, things are not that simple these days; there are people who work even on New Year's Day - for example, the convenience stores such as 7/11, are open - teenagers prefer spending this day with their friends or partners to their families; some people say they don't like 'osechi' and even don't know its recipe - and they rush to McDonald's, which is also open! Many people spend this day abroad as well."

Now I will get a chance to ask Makiko to explain the dinner called 'osechi' and the drink called 'otoso,' and Mr. Harmon might be interested in this, unless he is still trying out Armangnac, which he recently discovered as a result of reading Metropole.

No Chance to Win if You Do Not Enter!

I used the above headline last week, which I 'borrowed' from the Loto promotion in France. If you do not play Loto, you will not win 50 million francs - tax-free! - last Wednesday - Christmas Day! - nor will you win 50 million francs last night, and you possibly won't win 50 million or more francs on New Year's Day either. Although I played both I did not win. However, I did contribute to the Loto's fund for telling people they will not win if they don't play. As an optimist, the chances for New Year's are still 'iffy.' The odds are only supposed to be 13 million to one; except on drawings when nobody wins.

The Christmas Windows in Paris are not quite in the same situation. The windows that 'win' with kids have lots of small things, in action, in them. The windows that 'look good' in tiny photos in Web magazines such as Metropole, are like the one at the top of this page - a Galeries Lafayette window from 1995 - which would be a flop for kids with their noses pressed to the glass.

This has been Metropole's last contest of the year and if I do say so myself, it has been highly successful - in the sense that it has not required me to open any postal sacks nor drink any cocktails from the exertion.

I thank all the entrants whether they won or went empty-handed - and hope that next year Paris' Christmas Windows will present a better selection.

Oh, I almost forgot. The 'tiny' prizes - shown on this page are about 50 percent larger than real - and all of them have been purchased from a deaf-mute guy who regularly supplies me with this sort of thing while riding the trains to go to Paris to search for Christmas windows.