"Paris Is Almost Normal"

Today's 'Group of the Week' - Norman, Beth, Cynthia
and John - look pretty harmless.

Unoutclassable 'First of Firsts'

Paris:- Thursday, 10. October 2002:- If this club meeting 'report' appears online before next Sunday, I will know I have a major rabbit in my hat. Last Monday's minor 'edition' fell afoul of an operating system that didn't appreciate being physically moved 600 metres.

The server-lady has given so much protection to Metropole's situation on the Web-server that she was unable to 'fix' things without causing a huge shambles, kind of like making water flow uphill. This left it to be 'fixed' by 'Ed' and he hasn't a clue why it works now and didn't last Monday. 'If' it works now.

On the weather front I have bad news that concerns south-eastern France. There is an 'orange' alert down there tonight, which means watch out for an overabundance of water.

For the Paris area things are not so grave. My color TV set has decided that a 600-metre move entitles it to show the weather in huge black and white flakes, sort of making the forecast a bit murky.

I watched this murk as honestly as possible and I can only say that it didn't seem to match Le Parisien's forecast this morning, which was in color again. Temperatures are not warm 'for this time of year,' but feel warmer - at about an advertised 16 or 17 degrees. Jolly nice!

Ah, now the future. If tonight's TV forecast was correct, Saturday may be the nicest day coming up. Le Parisien thinks it will be tomorrow, Sunday and Monday, with Saturday maybe being semi-okay.

I was reminded yesterday by club member Dinny Moyer that I can look out of my very large main window facing north and really see what is happening right now. 'Right now' it is nighttime and pitch black out there, except for a few lights showing halfway up the Tour Montparnasse.

This then, will be a future break-point for the weather. If I can see the Tour Montparnasse without radar - almost exactly 500 metres away - then the weather is fine in Paris, day or night. And I can see the tower tonight.

Now I will rewind back to this afternoon when I pace off my new route to the métro station, which is the same one I used before. I ignore the TV monitor in the entry saying which lines are 'perturbed' by labor 'actions' today and immediately catch a train. Note that the station Cité is closed for some reason - do not be alarmed by métro trains non-stopping at it.

At the club's café La Corona I meet the new 'Waiter of the Week,' who tells me the café's management has informed him of this world-famous club having meetings in it on Thursdays. In case I forget to mention it later, this week's waiter is named Eric. He has asked for the report's URL, to find out if he will be famous too.

Earlier I have purchased a new and genuine third members' booklet at Monoprix, so the first thing I do is fix this up with the meeting number and so on, and add the next new member's number, which is 415.

However the first to arrive is a new member from last week. This is Beth Sperry, the club's only self-confessed philosopher with a real degree. Although I try mightily to be 'philosophical' I feel that I make a hash of it. I have left-over uncool jitters from the move and its aftermath.

Luckily the next member to arrive arrives soon, and is prepared to be philosophical. This is Norman Barth, who runs 'The Paris Pages.' When he says his member number is 'bis' I don't understand until he finds his sign-in - and he has no member number.

Although I can't remember why now, the omission was deliberate. Without Norman's connivance there would be no weekly Metropole Paris and no weekly Café Metropole Club, so I guess he must be an Honorary Charter Member.

I am very embarrassed when I have to tell him that other members abolished all 'rules' some years ago, including the 'Honorary Charter Member' title. As secretary of this club I decide on the spot, without consulting the any of the other 414 members, to declare Norman 'Honorary Charter Member Number One' - and only.

If any other members are going to write to complain about this and don't include your names, just remember I know your members' numbers.

"Russian does not have the verb 'to be,'" Norman says to Beth. This is, of course, in the realm of philosophy - as in, you can't say 'To be or not to be' in Russian. He explains what Russians use as a substitute, but I forget to note it.

What has not brought this up is Norman taking Spanish lessons in Washington, instead of in San Diego, near where he lives. He also declines to explain how he learned the Russian business in a Spanish class.

Beth is taking French lessons at the Alliance Française, which is a school most everybody has been to at one time or another, and has some branches near some of our home towns, if some of them are near some major cities.

Beth and Norman, after some philosophical discussion, finally decide they have water in common. He says, "I suppose I have to come clean..."

"Can I respond now?" Beth asks.

What follows is a 223-word per minute reflection about 'youthful rebellion' that I fail to note entirely except for the word 'rebellion' - followed by another note, 'Beth - 1000-word response.'

I seldom note what the secretary says, but I now recall mentioning some of the famous people in everlasting residence across the street from my new window. This is 'off-subject,' because Beth asks Norman, "What are you besides an Internet whiz-kid?"

Now I realize my 'notes' are out-of-order, because here is where Norman says, "I suppose I have to come clean..."

Luckily Cynthia Marquez, from South Pasadena, arrives with John Lee, from Los Angeles, California. They are jetlagged out of their minds after a non-stop flight that dumped them at Roissy at 06:30 this morning.

In their honor, I declare South Pasadea to be the 'City of the Week,' partly because John says he lives within 300 metres or three miles of downtown LA. Also, because Cynthia says this club has been recommended to them by long-time Metropole reader and Café Metropole Club member 254, Michael McKinnon of Pomona.