'Real' New Members

From left, Jason, David, Dominique, Ana, Larry, part of
Stan, Eva and Tomoko.

China Lake Gets On Map

Paris:– Thursday, 12. February 2004:– Last week it was 'anticipated' news that didn't turn out right, and this week it is 'anticipated' weather that started out positive, turned negative, and now has switched back to positive again without anybody having to lift an umbrella or jump a puddle.

So we have the fog–in–the–morning forecast for tomorrow again. This is supposed to be overtaken by a very deep blue sky sometime later – predicted in some quarters a day early. The overnight low should be three degrees, with the temperature more than tripling to 10 degrees in the afternoon.

Saturday should be somewhere between partly cloudy and not–so–cloudy, with a high temperature of nine. Sunday might be the same, or a little bit sunnier – again with the same high of nine. You can sleep through the lows.

To sum up, as tonight's TV–weather news put it, it should be stable and dry.' You can put away your 'muffles,' until March, maybe.

Unlike last week when I didn't go to the club by way of Bastille, this week I go out of my way by coming to the club meeting by way of République. Club member number one, Heather 'Secrets of Paris' Stimmler–Hall, needs to know if the Web Bar is closed or open – there's no sign of life online – so your club secretary becomes the Internet investigative reporter for a half hour.

One of the first – if not the very first – 'cybercafés' in Paris, is no more. No one over there knows why not. From what I can gather – not much! – you can erase it from your address books. On the other hand, nobody knows what will replace the Web Bar in the middle of next month. Maybe a portable phone text–messaging joint.

I arrive at the club's café La Corona with about a minute to spare, at 14:59. Patrick, the club's original 'Waiter of the Week,' tells me he had a wonderful time in Réunion having a real summer, and mentions that there are members present.

So there is Larry Frame – a 'real' new member! – waiting for he–doesn't– know–what to begin. The club has been recommended to him and about it he knows nothing. This means he isn't overburdened with a stuffed monkey and wierd 'City of the Week.' Darn.

It means that the very reason of the club must be explained. However, there turns out to be no time to do this properly, so I 'read' him his 'rights' from memory, tell him there are no 'rules,' and that membership is free and for life, and the so on that most members know already. If not, see the 'About the Club' stuff below.

Amidst the several other club members that arrive pell–mell almost together, there is one other new member. This is Dominique Bourreau, who is with last week's new member, David Pitt. They used to live near or in Yosemite, California, but they live in Paris now. Dominique began her life in Paris, in the 16th arrondissement.

There's no time to narrow this down to north, south, Auteuil, Passy, Trocadéro or wherever – maybe even Porte Mayo! – because of the arrivals of – oops – a member who joined in April of 2000, Stan Fleener, is slightly before them.

Today makes it almost four years since I've seen Stan, member number 60, so I only almost remember his name. It's on the tip of my tongue though. I swear it. I should have anticipated having to remember 550 names before I launched this club – I should have asked myself – do you swear to remember the names of all club members, forever?

Before I forget, the other members to arrive individually all about the same time are Jason Hraynyk, Tomoko Yokomitsu, Ana Escomel and Eva Lee. Tomoko asks me if I ate last week's poison blow–fish. She laughs. I am still alive. Meaning – of course I didn't eat the poison blow–fish. It does remind me though, I need to defrost my freezer compartment.

It has been a few weeks since a club meeting has had new members signing the members' booklet. New members give everybody, even the club's secretary, a chance to ask them about themselves.

Larry willingly tells his story. His last gig was putting sensors on people so their movements could be recorded by very powerful Macintosh computers, that translated the sensor data into computer games, like championship tennis. The process is called 'motion capture.'

He swears – there's a lot of swearing in this report – that he never did the Williams sisters. Nearly everybody else says at once, 'who are the Williams sisters?' I don't even follow tennis, but I do know it could be quite a bit more interesting to attach computer sensors to the Williams sisters than to, say, Janet Jackson.

Dominique Bourreau works for France Télécom's 'Orange' unit. This is the one that provides access to all the wonderful telephone services that are available to anybody willing to sign their souls away for a portable phone and the right to make calls while riding the Métro or attending church services.

Everyone at today's club meeting except Eva Lee is a Paris resident, and even Eva is trying because she's been here six weeks. Then, except for Ana, Tomoko and Dominique, everyone else is trying to learn French.

This means everybody – except the exceptions – has their story about learning French at the Alliance Française. Jason has been at this a long time, in seeral sessions, and he provides a lot of details, both negative and positive. It sounds a bit chancy, just like life.