Bové Is An Artist

Saturday's sundown from the Cour Napoléon.

Fight Over Pixels

Paris:– Monday, 5. February:–  I want to take back what I wrote here last week. We had an uninsulting Class A of weekend weather after last week's dreary grayness, featuring those mysterious but welcome temperatures above normal and skies so blue that they were classified as a state treasure. Can it last? Do SUVs fly? Direct your dials to –

Le Petit Coin Météo

The weather news has no past except that it is like baseball. Anything significant goes into the statistics and every time something seems unusual it is compared to the past. However, a 10 degree, sunshiny, blue–sky Saturday in February is not significant except to ordinary humble folks, so it won't get stuck in the hit parade of statistics. And it was not just one, but two days. Sunday was included. It was glorious!

Tonight's TV–weather news began with the sobering information that Arctic airflows are pushing their way south and these will collide with warm airs from the south, resulting in solid grayness and damp air. Today's Le Parisien says it will be, "Ni pire... ni meilleur, simplement pourri." For once they are bang–on.

In the Tuileries on Saturday.

Nail the overnights to about freezing and the highs to 6 or 7 degrees, lay on the low gray flannel overhead and add offshore breezes and onshore breezes. Then say that Wednesday might be 10 percent better than Tuesday, and with those onshore breezes toss in some warmer maritime air on Thursday. Throughout expect weak peeps of feeble sunlight, and hold your breath until Friday's simply rotten. Now I am back to being insulted.

On the other side of the Atlantic weather is getting serious but we have no fear. We switch to Vista and turn to Météo Jim, waxing poetic.

Afterglow of StuporHype

After 2 million buffalo wings, 6 million hot dogs, 80 thousand gallons of beer, 200 cases of BoJo Novo, 5 tons of sauerkraut, 890 tons of ribs, 2 billion antacid pills and 91 thousand gallons of liquid antacid the StuporBowl started at 8 PM.

Canadians were looking on with interest, not for the game, which is a crude replica of the Canadian version which emphasizes speed and finesse over brute force. In football north of the border, it is not uncommon for a player to run 115 metres in a single carry to make a first down. How many American players can make that claim?

But all is not lost. In a few more days, the Boys of Summer will begin appearing, making people long for the chirps of returning birds, the fertile warmth of diamonds and the cries of, "Strrriiiike!" No, not the French strike – the rush of the ball as it evades the player's bat and lands safely in the musty leather of the catcher's glove.

Pommeland received three significant snow falls this past week. Significant is relative, but in this case, each storm left the ground covered with snow. A major whopper that was predicted for Thursday into Friday arrived Friday evening and the bulk of the storm went south. Interestingly, Thursday was the only warm day of the week with a high of 40 a–grad. Temperatures for the upcoming week will be a repeat of last week with wind chills at night around 0 a–grad or below, or minus 17.778 in e–grads. No day next week will be unfrozen.

A la prochaine , Météo Jim

Café Life

The Etoile still twirls.

Election Frenzy

We are at it again. During last week's grayness if you had flipped a coin you would not have probably guessed that Josef Schomburg and I would resume hammering and banging away on Metropole again but that is what we did and you lose the coin–flip.

These operations are very tricky and you never know how long they are going to take. Josef suggests improvements and I remember slight imperfections I want lifted, and next thing you know we are fighting over pixels and time is running through the hourglass like a TGV train bent on breaking records.

We had a good session on Friday without too many bruises and we had repaired to a local café for a pickup spirit and to scope out the smokers, when local video artist Pierre Labrot grabbed my arm and dragged me to a meeting above a café in the Rue Saint–Denis, to a gathering of artists planning their support of José Bové for President.

Yes, well, it was during the Café Metropole Club meeting on Thursday that professional peasant Bové declared his candidacy. This makes him one of six or seven leftist pretenders. Only nasty minds would say that he is on this lark because he's faces a court judgement on Wednesday, which may result in prison time. Luckily Nicolas Sarkozy is Minister of the Interior, not Justice.

Lights lit by sunlight at Concorde.

One the way down to Les Halles Pierre was telling me how artists should support France's living Asterix because he is an artist, like Brazil's Lula and Venezuela's Hugo Chavez. About whether Dr. Fidel Castro is also an artist, Pierre was not so sure.

The meeting hall turned out to be too dim for photos. While I was there the small room overlooking one of Paris' livelier streets filled up. Artists wishing to phone stepped out onto a landing where the smokers were, and nobody could hear what was happening in the meeting. Afflicted suddenly by hunger, I took my leave before I could learn any confidential campaign plans.

Look, all Pierre wanted was for me to mention that José Bové is running for president, on the Lula – Chavez plank. As ever I expect that you are alert nd know you are aware as well. Act accordingly!