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Note – Thrift Shops!

photo, group, rita, edna, bob, kathy, sherry, ellen, ralph

'Group of the Week' Rita, Edna, Bob, Kathy,
Sherry, Ellen and Ralph.

''Has Anyone Seen 'D–Coils?'''

Paris:– Thursday, 15. September 2005:– Eagle–eyed readers will have noticed that there was no weather forecast on Monday. This was because of a total failure to do any of the weekly 'Café' column, but had I done it, the weather would have been a total failure too.

The weather continues to be dodgy. We are, we are supposed to be, having summer slip its grasp. Sunny days give us nice temperatures and now they are humid too, signalling that autumn is blowing this way.

Tomorrow it'll blow some down the Channel, then it'll blow down on us from Belgium. By afternoon the morning's rain will sweep east and leave skies semi–sunny here. Ofphoto, granizada of the week course this will require perfect timing, and exact timing is always in doubt. The strangest aspect of tomorrow's weather times will be an overnight low of 15 degrees – not shabby at all – but tomorrow's high has been forecast as – 15 degrees!

If it were Spain, I'd say it's the 'Granizada of the Week.'

Yea, that's right. The temperature is going to fall off a cliff. It is going to fall so hard that on Saturday, which will be mainly sunny with clouds, the temperature will get up to no more than 15 degrees again. Is the needle stuck?

Then Sunday comes along, on one hand surging up from despair to be mainly sunny all day, on the other hand expect a vast leap in temperature – up to 17 degrees. Some of this has to do with low temperatures falling from a balmy 15 tonight to a seasonal 8 to 10. My advice – keep a scarf handy to put on when you wake up on Friday. Or stay in bed until Sunday.

The "TARZANA!" Report of the Week

Tomoko 'Yoko' Tokomitsu will not be at the club today. When I saw her last, after midnight last night, she was hanging around with her Beatles replica guys after their gig at the Petit Journal. For over two hours they played and sang all the Beatles stuff you could want, and Tomoko did her Yoko Ono turn. I can recommend the show, but they don't have many playdates. As a club, the Petit Journal in Montparnasse is comfortable and the sound was good.

Luckily most of the 30 photos I tookphoto, tables of the week turned out to be black duds, so I didn't have to stay up until 05:00. But writing a bit and then reading a bit made it five, so when I woke up I felt that my brain have been replaced with moldy rum–soaked felt. It's not fair. Next time I'll have café instead of orange juice.

Moody club tables strewn with glass and shadows.

I stagger around and then lurch out the door and get dizzy going down the stairs, and then outside a breeze is pushing along soggy clots of warm air. I barge through them past Chez Papa and the cemetery and down to Raspail where my personal Métro train arrives to haul me down to the Quartier Latin in a humid jiffy.

Here I add a transport note – the Vavin station is closed for renovations. If this is your favorite jumping off point in Montparnasse you are going to have to use a substitute for several weeks. Maybe it's a good excuse to go on the wagon, or buy a flat in Montparnasse and walk to your troquet.

Going past Samaritaine I miss seeing the weekly employees' demo protesting against its closure. The latest rumor has it that the Conforama store is going to close too. The old lady in the newspaper kiosque was on the TV–news tonight, saying that her sales are a 'bit off.' I know for a fact that she sold one copy of Le Parisian today.

After my personal protest against the luxury chain's indecent closing of my favorite rooftop lookout, I find the rest of the Quai du Louvre to be deserted. Oh, the cafés along the way are doing some business, but the street is empty.

In the club's area of the café La Corona the brand–new 'Waiter of the Week' meekly buzzes off when I tell him I'll order later and snitches to Monsieur Naudan, who tells him that he'll surely become rich off thirsty club members, yet to come, if he has a little patience.

I turn to Le Parisian. Its headline says, 'Roissy, the network of the baggage robbers.' All over town visitors are reading the headline and wondering how they can get out of France some way other than via Roissy.

Sloppy, sloppy, Le Parisien. The real story is about the roundup and jailing of the usual 22 suspects that the flics have nabbed. I turn to page two but then have in front of me members Ellen and Ralph Campbell from Rogue River in Oregon. That was the 'City of the Week' at the meeting on 22. September of 2002, which was a Thursday, of course.

The Campbells are in town for their first 20th wedding anniversary, and they are on their way to Avignon and Nice, because they thought it looked nice when they were there once. Later Ralphphoto, rita, ralph, ellen will say that their Rogue River is not as wild as the nearby Salmon River, which is infamous for one–way trips – 'river of no return.'

Rita, Ralph and Ellen, all with 'Smiles of the Week.'

Without much warning member Kathy Garrison, from Pittsburgh, is joining us, saying, "I saw Martin Parr in that beautiful building," meaning, the European Maison of Photos. But before I can remember this, Kathy needles me for being so tardy with the events columns, and reminds me that she is still looking for 'thrift shops.' "I haven't found one yet," she says.

Hm, er, well. I try to remember the name of Emmaüs, which was started in 1954 by the Abbé Pierre. Uh–oh, there's seven addresses but none in Paris. All out in the suburbs.

The Salvation Army, here the Armée du Salut, is another one she tried to find. It does have a sales outlet in the city, at 13 Rue Cantagrel, Paris 13. Metro: François–Mitterrand. Except Tuesday, open about 11:00 to 18:30.

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