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Beaujolais Nouveau Day

photo, group, priscilla, heather, mary ann, bettett, david, barbara r, barbara m, john m, bob

The 'Group of the Week' – from left, Priscilla, Heather,
Mary Ann, Bettett, David, Barbara R, Barbara M, John and Bob.

Some 'Senior Moments'

Paris:– Thursday, 18. November 2004:– If I had timbers they would be shivering. I believe there was a sort of heatwave forecast for today that was supposed to give us 12 degrees at the height of the day. Unfortunately there was no 'height' of the day.

The sun is rumored to have come up at 8:06, but there was no proof of it this afternoon. Just some antic breezes blowing around, seemingly from the south. The leaves, if they are still on the trees, are giving up reluctantly.

I have been restraining myself from giving a loud warning about 'orange' weather. This doesn't comephoto, salut bjn from the phone company or Florida. Tonight's TV–weather news lady sounded the gong – hold your hats tonight for winds up to 110 kph, blowing at us from the west.

Technically this is due to a low pressure area over Iceland and a high pressure area – I forget where – and between the two there is the wind creation. But, not to worry – if your hat is loose the winds shouldn't be more than gentle puffs of 60 kph by Friday noon.

The 'Clink of the Week.' Salut!

There should even be sunny periods on Friday, but the temperature is headed for the pits where it will establish itself at about 8 degrees. More semi–sunny times are foreseen for Saturday with a lower high of 7 degrees.

No sun at all is in the cards for Sunday, when the temperature will leap to the stunning heights of 9 degrees. Luckily Paris Plage is closed until next July, but everything else is open.

The 'Beaujolais Nouveau' Club Report of the Year

The sky looks sinister as the wind blows me towards the entry of the Métro. It is a perfect day for a club meeting and a rotten day for a picnic, as most days in November usually are. I am behind with Christmas reporting so I ride all the way to Châtelet in a near empty wagon.

There aren't many lost souls in the Métro tunnels and there seem to be even fewer shoppers on the Rue dephoto, mary ann, hello albert sign Rivoli. There are sales too, of the kind when you buy three bikinis and get a fourth one for 1€. There might be more people around if they were parkas.

I check Samaritaine's windows. They are decorated, but are they Christmas? Same thing happened on Sunday when I snooped out the Bon Marché. It was closed and all the windows were draped with white hangings.

This is what Albert gets for staying home.

Since I've forgotten, I am not in doubt about Beaujolais Nouveau day. But right after the department store I see a sign in a café window. Nobody would put a Beaujolais Nouveau sign in their window if it wasn't Beaujolais Nouveau day Naw, I think, it must really be Beaujolais Nouveau day.

Great. Except that there isn't many people around. Well, oh sure, everybody is inside sopping up the juice. Small wonder the streets are empty. It's eerie though.

The club's café La Corona has six different Beaujolais Nouveau signs in its windows. Nobody is sitting on the arctic terrace through. Inside, in the bar, the café's Joes are wearing straw boaters and wine–spill aprons. Fake grapes are hanging from the lights and there are even more Beaujolais Nouveau signs.

A guy at the bar says, "Take my photo – I work for the Poste." I decline, because he works for the Poste. He says I remind him of an American actor, what's his name. The guy's buddy doesn't try to guess. I can't remember what's his name either. I decline a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau, offered by the Poste. Then the Joe remembers. The what's his name who's dead, unlike me. For this I am offered a café.

At least now it seems like Beaujolais Nouveau day. In the café's 'grande salle' there are more fake grapes and signs hanging from the extravagant lights, but there are so few people that it looks like there's a rumor of plague.

In the club's area there is a couple sitting in a booth behind a pillar. The club's tables are clean and set in perfect order so I rearrange them, and carefully put the particulars in the club's books. As I get out the paper to read it, people arrive.

These are member Barbara Roldan and her friends Mary Ann Planck and Bettett Disney, and all three have come from Novato, California. Barbara was at the New Year's Day meeting this year, but she says, "Albert isn't here this time."

The story is, the three of them were having a bite to eat a month ago, and they decided to come to Paris for the hell of it. Et voilà, here they are!

In order to promote Novato as the 'City of the Week' the ladies tell me they live in the Hamilton part of it. Forphoto, beaujolais nouveau many years, maybe half a century, Hamilton was a US Air Force base. But now it's a suburb, maybe with big runways.

The three have also taken a Segway tour since they arrived. This started from the Tour Eiffel, and, "Bettett crashed," Barbara says. When I ask, Bettett admits she is a 'distant' Disney. First time in Paris and crash a Segway – it seems right.

It looks right. Just smell it.

No Beaujolais Nouveau day is complete without Beaujolais Nouveau, and the 'Waiter of the Week' brings some for Barbara and Mary Ann, and a Coke 'nouveau' for Bettett. One says, "It's very cold," about the wine, which I can smell.

Another couple have settled onto a adjoining table. After listening to fine wine appreciation sounds they introduce themselves as willing to–be club members.

We have then a round of handshakes with Barbara and John Martin from Ayr in Scotland. They have a weekend apartment near Bastille because Ayr is near Prestwick and connects handily to Beauvais, via Ryanair. "Three hours door–to–door, if the connection isn't too good," Barbara says.

Another flying connection is good enough for 'City of the Week,' and makes at least two for Scotland. Which heralds the arrival of member David Pitt, born in England, but a long time resident of Yosemite where he had a book store.

It is David's lucky day because he only comes to club meetings to talk to members from Novato. Mary Ann exclaims about, "Vegetables! Marchés! Cheese!"

Meanwhile the couple in the booth are harboring a berserk portable telephone that has a whole symphony for a ring tone. We all listen to it for two minutes.

David, who lives in Paris, says, "I still don't speak French." While today's notes are better than in past weeks, there are still holes. Who says, "You can't believe everything youphoto, group 2 hear about the crickets in the catacombs."

Probably John, because he and Barbara visited them. We all discuss what is necessary for spotting crickets in the catacombs. There's so much on the surface, I never understand the fascination with the underground, or crickets.

The 'Beaujolais Nouveau Group of the Year.'

Then David has a 'senior moment' when the name of a book slips his memory. Changing gears he tells us about a failed trip to London. He booked the transport but couldn't find a hotel, so he went to Amiens. "Nobody ever goes to Amiens," he sums up, noting that there are hotels with lots of free rooms there.

Priscilla Pointer and Bob Symonds arrive and get settled. Bob says he is going to have a Beaujolais Nouveau, but Priscilla wonders. Mary Ann suggests a Kir Royal. "Yes," Priscilla says to the waiter, "Un Kir Royal, s'il vous plaît."

"Is this a Beaujolais crowd?" Heather Stimmler–Hall wants to know. I worry about Heather's eyesight sometimes.

But as usual Heather has a test for us. She's checking up on hotels and one has given her some candy to try and identify. She passes it around, saying "What's this green candy taste like?"

Of course everybody's taste has been destroyed by Beaujolais Nouveau. One guess – "Tutti Fruitti?"

Priscilla has confessed to playing the role of Rebecca in 'Dallas.' She says she wanted to know how rich she was supposed to be and they said, "Shell Oil." David, about drinking, says, "No – only Coke." He tried wine when he was four and it didn't agree with him.

Barbara, from Novato, tells Priscilla that she takes friends to see the inside dome in Galleries Lafayette to show them somethingphoto, empty bjn glass neat. "Do you find that you walk all over?" Piscilla asks.

"A Year In America," David says. His 'senior moment' is over and he's remembering the name of the book. But it's my 'senior moment, because what he really says is, 'A Year In the Merde.' It is supposed to be a good book too.

Priscilla tells John she visited Drunadraghit. John spells it for me. Or is it Drumnadrochit? It is supposed to be Scotland's highest town.

Beaujolais Nouveau day in November is short.

Meanwhile, in TV land Bob says, "I was in 'Dynasty' for a while." Precisely, as the doctor from Montana. Mary Ann shouts, "Oh man! I saw you when I was in college!"

Better still – according to Bob, 'Dallas' is still being re–run on TV in France. It just goes to show, something.

When we have finished the weekly ordeal of capturing the 'Group Photo of the Week' Bob tells me about the Uruguayan film 'Whisky.' Apparently this is the word for 'cheese' that Uruguayans use to get people to smile for their 'Group Photo of the Week.'

Of course, since it is Beaujolais Nouveau day, the way Uruguayans say 'whisky' isn't 'whisky' exactly. It is more like 'ricky.' Maybe I am having another 'senior moment.'

About the Café Metropole Club's About Page

Today's club meeting 'report' did not lack for notional 'Food of the Week, like green candy. The 'About the Café Metropole Club' page has somephoto, sign, bjn est arrive mighty fine print, but you can skip it and not miss much. An easier way to find out all you need to know about the club is by joining in person it any Thursday.

You can become a real lifetime member of this online magazine's real, live, and free club by becoming a member hyper–quick on a Thursday by signing–in yourself during a meeting in Paris so long you are here, in the café's 'grande salle.' Getting to Paris is all up to you.

The club's 'rules' were turned into legendary urban folk tales by the club's members several eons ago. The club's other blemish is that it is the only club related to an Internet magazine that operates with no newsletter, regardless of how many requests there are. There's nothing to unsubscribe to or disconnect.

What, Why Not, Where, How, Who, When?

The weekly club meetings start about 15:00, on Thursday afternoons and end around 17:00, on the same Thursday afternoon in the western European Time zone – which is really 'CET' for short and not 'OZZU' although it sometimes is – and known elsewhere as 3 pm to 5 pm. Club meetings are held in Paris. Until the secretary gets a better offer, club meetings will continue to be held here.

Be devilishly clever at a meeting – like being at one – and become somewhat notorious momentarily if you are really in the mood. True 'firsts' are welcome, with 'true' having approximately the same stroke value as 'first,' especially if salmon are involved. 'True' is perfectly acceptable too, if it's honestly 'first.'

There's just one note of caution – you may have any one or more personal reasons for not wanting to be traceable via the Web. If so, be sure to inform the club's secretary that you prefer to be '404 – not found' by Web search engines before becoming 'found' in one of these club reports.graphic: club location map

Former 'rules' continue to be 'former' week after week after week, month after flipping month, year after dern endless year, and have been eliminated from the club's hyper–volumes of archives except for all the originals still online buried in the cool and deep ginger mines of Outer Angola.

Talking to other club members at meetings is an encouraged activity rather than seasonally optional in November. If there's a free chair, sit – wherever you like, or haul one over from another part of the café. What you say might be much appreciated by other members present if they are listening, and there usually are some – and if it should chance to be written here, as shreds of it are, occasionally.*

*The above paragraphs are relatively unchanged since last week because this week's 'Food of the Week' was not foie gras. It wasn't anything.

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

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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