No 'City of the Week'

In photos of big groups everybody comes out smaller in Web-sized photos.

How About a 'Hat of the Week' Instead?

Paris:- Thursday, 20. September 2001:- The customary weather report can be skipped this week because there has been no change since Monday, although there may be a bit of sun peeking at Paris in the near future.

Like last week, the métro has few passengers and the Rue de Rivoli is not teeming with shoppers. Most bicyclists I see seem to be cops-on-wheels, and I assume these are all over the city.

Before leaving the underground I buy a copy of today's 'Le Monde,' and to be on the safe side I pick up a copy of the underground paper, 'A Nous Paris' too, just in case there is a memberless meeting today.

On the way in to the café La Corona, I ask today's 'Waiter of the Week' - who is Patrick - last week's 'Question of the Week,' but he insists he doesn't know the answer. Then I collar the café's 'patron,' and he guesses an answer - which you will find below in this column - because this week's club business comes first.

This happens to include Paul Baker from Chicago, Illinois, and most recently from Maisons-Alfort where he went to find out that the Fragonard Museum is closed on Thursdays and Fridays. Please note this vital fact. For those who don't mind going to closed museums, Paul points out, "It's only a one-ticket ride!"

Paul went out there because he works at the Field Museum in Chicago - which has old rocks and bones, like Paris' Museum of Natural History in the Jardin des Plantes. Paul says the Paris version has 'spooky music.'

Then, in a big rush, the club's area in the café fills up with members Sue and Doug Fuss, and Dinny Moyer. And here is where my notes get hopelessly scrambled, because somebody asks where Berta and Scoop Maginniss with their 'seven trunks' are - and I think it must be Betty or Jerry Blizin - you surely must remember the Blizins from Tarpon Springs, Florida?

But my notes do not say when the Blizins arrive, and before I can do much about figuring it out, Berta and Scoop Maginniss do arrive, but without their 'seven trunks.'

Scoop says everything got past the airline inspectors okay - everything but his nail-clippers. He also says he hasn't brought 'Paris-Turf' today because he hasn't found the nearest off-track betting café nearest the Maginniss' new apartment yet - and besides, there's no 'quinte+' tomorrow.

Both of the Maginniss' are excited about the new apartment. They were at the Drouot auction house yesterday getting half a truck-load of furniture, and it has been delivered today. They were at BHV too, and got some appliances there. Tonight they intend to stage an attack on the handiest Ikea outlet.

James Maginniss has also slipped in here, with a to-be new member, Sam Conley from San Francisco. Doug Fuss tries to figure out how many members are present, but nobody will keep still and he gets no total.

Patrick, the 'Waiter of the Week,' is so engrossed with rolling up knives and forks in napkins, he fails to hear shouts for more 'Wine of the Week' - or is it my 'Café of the Week?'

Paul gets his attention by yelling 'Monsieur' medium-loud. Then, with Patrick alert, everybody pretends to pose for the 'Group Photo of the Week' which gets blitzed as usual by the café's interior color scheme, which turns all winter photos into yellow and red gore.

Although Paul has been in Paris several times before, he wants to show off his discoveries. His prize is a billed-cap with no logo or other advertising on it. "Only just over ten bucks!" he says triumphantly. "Got it at Monoprix."

It is, of course, the 'Hat of the Week.' I hope this will make up for the lack of a 'City of the Week' and all the other mistakes and omissions here.

Without waiting for the meeting to be over, Dinny asks the 'Question of the Week' for the second week in a row. "Why is café served in consommé tureens?"

In a way I object to this on the grounds that last week's 'Question of the Week' has no definitive answer yet. But before I can use my voice for this, Paul asks his 'Question of the Week.'

"Does anybody know the name of a restaurant that serves 'pommes dauphines?" He explains this question by saying the restaurant where he had them before is closed.

The combined brain-power of the entire group cannot equal this question, although it grapples with it mightily. Nobody, in fact, has ever had 'pommes dauphines' in a restaurant.

Even though it was in the club's overtime perod, Dinny Moyer posed the 'Question of the Week.' She asked, "Why is a 'demi' only 25 cl?" She was referring to the common name and uncommon measure of draft beer served in cafés, bars and restaurants in France.