'Nothing of the Week'

photo: cafe of the week, magazine special zincs

The only 'Of the Week' is this café. It was good too.

Read All About It - While It's Still Fresh

Paris:- Thursday, 13. June 2002:- If you've been out looking at the sky like I have, you'll probably think it isn't exactly the kind of sky you want for beach weather, and I agree with you. It might be good club- meeting weather though.

I'm not coming right out and saying the weather is 'grey-blah' because Wednesday night's forecast for Friday is pretty darn good - good enough for basking at the beach in fact. Not only is the sky supposed to be mottled with fuzzy sun-balls over lots of blue, but the temperature is supposed to be over 30. Over 30! Not a lot, but over.

That's like nearly 83 degrees, which, if you subtract 32 - why 32? - why not 26? - why not 14.8? - whatever you subtract, it gives you, will give us, a whole 51 non-metrical degrees above freezing. This is pretty good for Paris, in late spring, or even in the middle of summer in a torrid heatwave.

Well, since Wednesday, the forecast is still actually running true today. It is overcast from edge to edge and the temperature is 22. This is completely normal, almost normal for a good day in November.

The TV-weather news tonight is still saying Friday will be exceptionally warm, still at least 30, butphoto: tea, terrace, traffic now the weather-lady is saying this is because it is - will be - sort of humid, unstable - and the whole thing may fall apart before noon.

Left-over civilian 'tea' things.

So much for the future weather news from the beaches of Paris. In case things don't turn out as predicted, I luckily scoop up a special edition of the paper distributed in the métro, titled, 'Zincs, Tables & Dancefloors II.' The first issue of this from last year hung around the editorial office until about February - but you never know.

It does not seem cold and it is not windy, but nobody is sitting on the terraces of the café La Corona when I arrive. There is no football today. It is not beach weather.

The 'Waiter of the Week,' Patrick, tells me the civilians taking up the club's tables in the café will be finishing lunch soon, so I install myself temporarily at another table where I can be seen, and write the administrative stuff - all eight words of it - in both the members' and the 'reports' booklets.

Then I turn to the paper with 'Zincs, Tables & Dancefloors II' and start speedreading it because I don't expect to get further than halfway through the editorial on page five.

But first I get slowed down on the double-page ad for Audi, trying to figure out if they have really used some very sexy and black Italian sportscar in the ad's photo.

Right behind the model's thigh, I can make out letters that might be, 'AMALES' on the right side of the rear end - of the car, I mean. Nossir, the black car doesn't look like a bulky Audi.

Isn't that odd how they've gotten into the fat, porky-looking, car business? I mean, all they have to do is look across the street in Bavaria, at Stuttgart to be exact, to see slim cars. And here, obviously, trying to impress Paris' rich and wild youth scene, they have to borrow an Italian car so they'll look good.

Imagine - one of these 'golden ones' walks into a Audi showroom and thinks, golly, my sunglasses must be darker than I thought. These are really dumpy-looking cars!

So, when I actually get to page five I am kind of surprised that no club members are sitting in front of mephoto: table, chair corona terrace yet. Patrick clears the others away and I take up my habitual post in the club secretary's chair, and continue speedreading because I want to get to the parts about the restaurant called 'What'Soup' and 'Le Roller Café.'

I pass the note about 'Le Relais Chablisien' which I actually passed on the way to the club, and on page eight I find a quote attributed to Daniel Prévost, which I'm inclined to think is apt.

Look! Empty chairs on a Paris café terrace. Not an everyday sight.

"I'll only be interested in Paris when the authorities put the sea in the centre of town. It's where I like walking, but for the moment I find it lacks a beach."

There's an amusing quote by Boutros Boutros Ghali too, about boulimia in Paris and Cairo. Then there's a bit of a lexicon for people who don't understand Parisian French too well - for the words, 'fooding,' 'slow food,' 'fusion food,' 'world food,' 'lounge food,' 'after' and 'before.'

Just to give you a clue, if you take some 'lounge food' at an 'after,' it may turn into a 'before' by the time you get out of the place. Before they tore it down, Les Halles used to be good for this sort of thing.

At the mid-point of the club meeting, when it is neither 'before' nor 'after,' I try to engage Patrick's attention because I am feeling the need of a strong café on account of reading about places named 'Pink Platinium,' which sounds like a strip-tease joint for banker-like working stiffs with platinum plastic cards. It is supposed to feature 'Le Strip Pop,' but it sounds like old background scenes from the TV-series, 'Miami Vice.'

Patrick brings my café after a while and I photograph it as the 'Café of the Week' and before it gets cold, I drink it, and photograph it as the 'Café of the Week That Was.' The latter could have been the 'Quote of the Week' but there are still no members, new or otherwise, present - so I don't say it out loud. What happened to the 'after' photo is a mystery too.

After a little more time, when I'm reading about the 'Bimbo Tower' in the 11th arrondissement, it occurs to me that some members might turn up after the club meeting is officially over. But then I remind myself that there are 'no rules,' and resign myself to speedreading my way through to the 20th arrondissement.

This gets me past 'Le Sofa' and the 'Nouveau Casino' up on Oberkampf, past the 'Vin des Rues' in my own quartier, and past a whole big bunch of places in the 16th and 17th that are probably favorites of Audi owners.

North Paris is lumped together and I see the familiar 'Aux Négociants' on the north side of the Butte mentioned, which balances off my place in the 14th.

I also see there are still no members of any category today, which mean no 'City of the Week' and a bunchphoto: patrick waiter of the week of other non-things. This will make doing the photos tricky, but will spare me nasty surprises of possibly attributing any wrong names to right photos or the other way around.

The 'Waiter of the Week' - Patrick - forgetting my café.

Club member Terrie Blazek has written to tell me that today's saint's day, for Saint-Antoine de Padque, is special because this is the saint to call on when you really need to find something.

So far, up until club time, it was working okay for me - but I wonder if some of La Corona's customers, potential club members and club members, haven't used this saint's good offices to 'find something, ' somewhere else.

The Coming Meeting

The next weekly meeting of the Café Metropole Club will be on Thursday, 20. June. This will be a perfectly normal 25th Thursday in the year 2002, named for the occasion for Saint Silvére. This one is not in my 'name' book so it might be a lady saint. If so, please add an 'e' to 'Saint.'

The location details for this meeting are below, followed or preceded by the multiple métro-stop names and all the date and time details, all of which have been identical for years, almost like this paragraph, which has not changed by even a comma this week.

The 'About the Café Metropole Club' Page

To learn how to become a member you may need to read the page called 'About the Café Metropole Club.' This page explains nearly everything you should know about this club - which is 'not much' - and its meetings - only a bit more than next to nothing.

'Club rules,' such as they are, suggest that if you feel like giving this 'About' page a pass - be my guest. All you really need to know is that you can become a member of this online magazine's live, free and real club in a short jiffy by simply being at a meeting when you are in central Paris on a Thursday.

The 'Coming Meeting' Standard Details

Meetings of this club in Paris begin at 15:00 on Thursday and continue until 17:00, still on Thursday, in Europe's Central European Time Zone - which is 'CET' for short and not 'After' - and known elsewhere as 3 pm to 5 pm inphoto: decor corona worldwide zones without 'Metric-Eurotime,' which is now in its long-day summer version.

The club's secretary will be listening to you - even if you are not at the meeting - at the same time as he is inventing some 'report' notes during the meeting. Note your name, hometown, and your own email address in the members' booklet in case the secretary forgets to ask you to do it.

La Corona's highlife décor, which can only be fully appreciated when there are no club members.

Come with a new 'Quote of the Week' or propose your own 'City of the Week' - the secretary can't do this - or dream up any other original or amusing 'Things of the Week' if you want your neighbors to read them in a 'club report' associated with your name. 'No-names' is an option you can adopt too. Otherwise and in general, the only exception is 'no rules.'

Things you say may be treated with great respect and may be really appreciated by the other members present, if there are any - and by all readers of this online magazine, if they read them - if they turn out to be written here.

The café's location is:

Café-Tabac La Corona
2. Rue de l'Amiral de Coligny - or - 30. Quai du Louvre
Paris 1. Métro: Louvre-Rivoli, Pont-Neuf or Châtelet.
Every Thursday from 15:00 to 17:00.

A bientôt à Paris
signature, regards, ric

Send email concerning the
contents to: Ric Erickson, Editor.
Metropole Midi © 2014
– unless stated otherwise.
logo, metropole sml midi logo No matter how good it tastes,
there is no such thing
as a free lunch.
Waldo Bini