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Marion Knits

photo, group, roman, tomoko, marion, stephan

'Group of the Week' Roman, Tomoko, Marion and Stephan.

And Other Astounding 'Firsts'

Paris:– Thursday, 3. November 2005:– The freaky weather seems to be over. It's been blowing, yesterday, so today makes it two days in a row. The problem might be that it's a wind from the south, hardly blowing any deep freeze or blizzards this way.

Some leaves are being blown off the trees and they are piling up like yellow and brown, not snowflakes, but in drifts of leaves. If the city leaves them alone for a minute we can shuffle through them, kicking them around, whee!

For tomorrow there is a wonderfully complicated forecast. The eastern third of France will havephoto, cokes lots of clouds and some amounts of rains, but don't worry about it because none of it is near here. Then offshore and up along the Channel, there will be more of the winds, at 60 kph, but don't worry about them.

Brown drinks of the week were popular.

Here, in the nowhere, northern centre, it should be mostly sunny, partly cloudy, and 15 degrees. Tonight's TV–weather news dude forgot to say this is lower than what we've been used to, but don't worry about it.

Saturday in and around this area is supposed to be semi–sunny at least, but not warm with a high of only 13 degrees, but don't worry about it. According to the forecast, right or wrong, Sunday should be pretty much the same except for a wind from the south of 60 kph, and except for a high of 14 degrees. So you see, there's nothing to worry about.

Even if you planned to go waterskiing, they were doing it on the Seine just the other day. I saw it on the TV–news, but it doesn't mean I truly believe it.

The 'Marion Knits Up a Storm' Report

Other than it being Thursday there didn't seem to be very much special about today being 3. November, if I disregard the wind that banged in my bathroom window. If you ask me I'll say wind is good for Paris, especially now when they are talking about heaving all smokers outside. Le Parisien says they can 're–find the street.'

On TV hardened smokers were shrugging their shoulders as if they are helpless to defend their rights, however few. TV also said that the Irish gave up meekly and now their pubs are full of odorless fresh air with no more character than a pharmacy. But thephoto, cafe of the week real blow came from Italy which everyone was expecting to be sportingly anarchistic. The Italians are standing out in the rain just like the Irish!

A club classic – the 'Café of the Week.'

It is quieter in Paris this week because a lot of the kiddies and their noisy parents are away doing whatever they do somewhere else for Toussaint. There aren't many kids around here so I don't miss them, and while they are not around I kick some defenseless leaves while passing by the cemetery on the way to Raspail. All that's missing for a true autumn adventure is the burnt tire smell of roasting chestnuts.

Pretty soon I am in the Quartier Latin which is much cleaner because it is mostly paving and concrete and walls, without old leaves and not much dirt. The cleanest thing is the Pont Neuf which appears to be 100 percent stone, and some of it is new too. The breezes make the air quite fresh. It is an ideal place for chain smokers.

Except for the usual battalions of cars, trucks, buses, policecars, scooters, and motorcycles the Quai du Louvre is nearly deserted, and there are no good posters either. Exactly three people are sitting on the 103 chairs on the terrace of the café Corona. Inside, in the 'grande salle,' there is only the old man with his big beer and the newspaper.

There is so much free room that I would be comfortable with extra elbows. Quick as a wink I do the blah–blahphoto, knitting, club first and then turn to the paper to read about the '10 reasons for hope,' for the suburbs. After the seventh night of fiery highjinks the paper is trying to be positive on page 2 and 3 before giving last night's score on page 4.

Total, awesome 'first' – 'Knitting of the Week!'

Last night in nine suburbs some unknown people set fire to 40 cars, two buses, two elementary schools, 10 trashcans and one police station. Fifteen culprits arrested on the weekend appeared in court yesterday, with two sent to prison, three others got suspended sentences, one was freed and the six others who may have been sightseeing have to wait for a month.

When a shadow falls across the paper I look up to see members Marion and Stephan Nowak, from Cologne. What a pleasant surprise! They have just been somewhere getting tickets for the morning session at the Grand Palais, to see the big 'Klimt, Kokoschka, Schiele, Moser' show.

Marion says getting reservations means not getting up too early, and not having to stand in line. Then she hauls out her knitting, and continues with what looks like a Halloween scarf.

I take the opportunity to ask about the geopolitical situation in Germany, which has had an election but no clear winner and this far, no clear government. Stephan tries to tell me how the leader of Bavaria decided to not be in the governmentphoto, group 2 of the week because nobody wanted to give him a five–word French–style combo title. Now somebody else important has just thrown in the towel. It is all very fascinating.

The 1st 'Group Photo of the Week.'

But perhaps not quite so much as what Marion is doing. I have been idly watching her wind bits of wool around plastic fishing line, listening to Stephan, before it occurs to me that I have never seen anybody knit like this before.

Which reminds me, that this is the first time that a member has been knitting and taking part in a meeting at the same time. Marion says, "Flexible needles, good for being in an airplane seat."

This even stops Stephan, who asks, "Have you ever used them on an airplane?" Marion looks up and scans the 38 empty chairs in the club's immediate area of the café and says, "No."

Then member Tomoko Yokomitsu, one of the club's several actresses arrives, followed by very tall member Roman Payne, one of the club's several authors. We engage in a frenzy of criss–cross handshaking, introductions, fumbles and bag–stashing.

"Important party bigwigs decline to take part," Stephan is saying, still about Germany that nobody cares about, when Roman says, "I wish something exciting would happen."

Actually Roman says he feels like taking off his clothes and running out on the Quai du Louvre, to see what would happen. Then he changes his mind. Could it be on account of November?

The 'Waiter of the Week' thinks he spies paying customers so he comes around to gather orders. Tomoko asks for a double café alongé. I am sure she wants a photogenic green drink – having forgotten that she's switched to red – so she deorders the café.

By now Stephan is entertaining us with a description of his work – which I asked him about – by telling us about buying an artificial weather machine. Actually this started with him mentioning getting a free café at Printemps – note – there's free café at Printemps! All you have to do it look interested, Stephan says.

Meanwhile, in Germany, Tomoko wants to know if Marion knows anybody in the city hall. "There's to be a rock concert there on 31. December," she says. Marion looks dubious.

Stephan is now telling us about the 'Jacksonville Test.' Apparently, if you want to test car paint the best place in the world to do it is in Jacksonville, Florida, which is wherephoto, red drink of the week most imports from Europe arrive. But actually it is because of Jacksonville's corrosive air mixed with sunshine.

The other place where car paints are tested is Miami, where it is hot and humid, alternatively, collectively, constantly, or something. Of course, Stephan's artificial weather machine can do this stuff too, he says, but Florida is better for the longer, more extreme testing.

Back by popular request – the 'Red Drink of the Week.'

Roman is working his way through a week's worth of emails on his Palm thing. He's not listening to one word I say about the revisionist history of the Treaty of Versailles that I saw on Arte–TV last night. My account reminds Marion that on Polish TV movies are not dubbed, but have voice–over in Polish so you know what's going on.

She isn't supposed to know this because, as she says, "My TV is smaller than my computer monitor." This reminds us all of the German TVs we've owned that didn't work in France, back in the days before SECAM–PAL models. Who even remembers SECAM?

Speaking of Polish, reminds Stephan of Arnold Schwarzenegger. He says that Arnie is dubbed for German TV – in German – and he saw a lot of movies at home before being in America and seeing Arnie on TV there, and hearing his Austrian accent for the first time.

Marion, knitting furiously away, asks, "Did you ever hear somebody from Austria speak?" I think, er, maybe – 'other than Hitler?'

We are not taking the 'Photo of the Week' when I ask the members to pull their faces into the light, because Marion is going full blast with her scarf. But once I have full attention is it a simple matter to urge the members to motion and out on to the terrace where the weak sun is coming in flat from the Tour Eiffel.

Then Roman says he has to split, so I slot in here that you should try his mystery novel, Crepuscule, which I agreed to review – last April I think.photo, book crepescule, by roman payne Sometimes I'm a slow reader. Did I write this before?

Did I mention that I'm pretty sure Roman is the club's tallest member? If he didn't leave early he could have been the 'Tallest of the Week' but it's too late now. Not at the same time nor by the same door, Tomoko and all her shopping sacks are on their way too.

The 'Mystery of the Week,' by Roman Payne.

It leaves Marion and Stephan, who want everybody to know that they are interested in buying a small apartment, so they will have a place with closets of their own to stay in on weekends. This reminds me that number one member Heather has written to say that her apartment near Place d'Italie will be available for three weeks from mid–December.

The Café Metropole Club's About Page

This club meeting 'report,' tip–tapped out with an endless radio background staring Bob Dylan, gives a huge hint about what this is about. To find out actual details take a look at the 'About the Café Metropole Club' page with its fuzzy photos, windy words and mellow membership card. You can join the club too, without even thinking, in any year containing at least one 'Thursday of the Week,' most with a genuine saint of the week.

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

Club meetings begin at 15:00, in the afternoon, on Thursdays and continue until 17:00, in the western €uro Time zone, now on its dreary slog through autumn to winter. Known in faraway lands as 3 pm to 5 pm, around somewhere else is not where meetings are held. Come to the café La Corona; Do not accept substitutes. Bring a friend or two. The folks in the rear of the big room, under the sickening yellow lights, are us.

Attend a meeting – by being at one. Pass a hour or two or a whole meeting with new friends. True 'firsts' are welcome, with 'true' being equivalent to 'real' even if 'first' is more thangraphic: club location map likely too, and if it is an alternate form of 'truth' with any sort of connection to reality, like true fiction. Coming to multiple club meetings is also permitted.

Caution – you may have a personal reason for remaining unfindable 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.

The 'ex–rules' that the club used to have continue to be former.These discontinued rules may still be accessed if you can find them. You can, in theory, learn that this somewhat hypothetical club of slight purpose seldom repeats rules because nobody bothers any more, even if remembered by very few.

Talking to other club members at meetings is okay rather than optional. There are usually dozens of empty chairs, so sit – wherever you like. Nobody will mind if you stand either. Whatever you say will be truly appreciated by the other members present if there are any listening, and sometimes there are but not always – and if it should chance to be written here.*

*The above paragraphs are relatively unchanged since last week because during today's meeting absolutely nothing exciting happened, and nobody was injured by Marion's needles.

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