Poetry Under Water

photo, under the eiffel, saturday Were you here on Saturday?

Rain Under Terrific Rain

by Ric Erickson

Paris:– Monday, 9. July:–  If it was light when I got up today, if got darker and dimmer and I had to check the clock to make sure it was really past the wakeup time for chickens. There was a rumble and the light fell another notch. Than a clatter started banging on the fresh green leaves outside and on my windowsill the raindrops bounced, being hailstones the size of ripe peas.

Rain Terrific Rain

It just goes to show that blaming the new president, Nicolas Sarkozy, for this horrible July is hardly fair, but he is president as he wanted to be, so he should shoulder the blame for it. I mean, France Météo is just the messenger. They didn't decide to reform the country while everybody is supposed to be undressed, getting bronzed at the seaside.

The situation is so dire I paid acute attention to Sunday's TV–news weather forecast because it was for the whole week. There are maybe a half million folks looking forward to next weekend's Bastille fête with its bals, parade, bals and fireworks and all the other fête nationale stuff. The bad news is that the skies will be mixed with blue and clouds, the winds will be from the southwest and the temperatures will be rising. The good news is that this prediction is only rated at 2 out of 5 for likelihood.

photo, bike wheels, rain, ugh It's dismal.

Tonight's forecast is another kettle of sardines. Today it rained heavily at times, about once per hour, and I think this is what it'll be like tomorrow. With wind from the northwest don't expect the high to get above 17 degrees.

On Wednesday it will be half–crummy around here, and still cool at 19 degrees. For Thursday, the eve of Bastille eve, the semi–crummy stays with us, with the breeze still from the northwest. A high of 21 may portend better times for those soldiers and sailors marching on the Champs–Elysées on Saturday. Let's hope soggy isn't in their future.

Friends of ours, can check out the following weather bulletin from the outre–Atlantique from our intrepid professor Météo Jim, with another prediction like the ones we used to have in the olden days of yore, hither and yon.

Drizzle Where It Fizzled

America's fête nationale was celebrated under cloudy skies in the morning with temperatures in the low 70s a–grad – 22 e–grad – followed by rain in the afternoon and evening. Even though it drizzled, the rain failed to fizzle the sizzle of the fireworks.

photo, waiting for summer Is summer around the corner?

But in the extreme western sections of Pommelandia, where the temperatures have reached above 110 a–grad – 45+ e–grad – on a daily basis, the eastward movement of the winds and continental drift have moved this weather towards the Atlantic's shores.

Temperatures this weekend in Pommeland are in the lower to mid 90s a–grad – + or - 35 e–grad – followed by slightly warmer and more humid conditions on Monday. Tuesday should see some relief along with the weekly thunder donnerundgeboomingearsplitting followed by cooler weather in the low 80s a–grad – 28 or so e–grad, just in time for the release of the latest Harry Potter movie and Bastille Day on 60th Street in La Grosse Pomme.

A la prochaine , Météo Jim

photo, ice cream sells anyhow Any season for ice cream.

Café Life

Words To Burn

This is a week in which I have few words to burn, and despite all there are probably too many here. Well, not here, but on the companion Bistro page where I have placed some slightly limp news. In compensation there are a couple of photos more than usual, more rain than usual, less sunshine than usual, and a bunch more Daguerréotypistas than necessary. Next week, of course, there will be much more, weather permitting.

This story is quite unlikely to be continued someday.

The Café Metropole Club

None of the club's absent members showed up at last week's club meeting but you know we had exactly one brand new member if you read the report. On next Thursday there will be yet another Café Metropole Club meeting. The secretary, excited by it being the eve of Bastille eve, promises to be there again in person, in skin and bones, as the French say.

The coming meeting of the Café Metropole Club will be on 12. July, one whole day before you–know–what. The Saint of the Day is a Mister. Please salute Saint Olivier Plunket. He is not made up. After finishing his studies in Rome Oliver was unable to return to Ireland because of that meanie, Cromwell. Accused of bringing an army with him, Plunket was hung, emptied and dismembered in Britain in 1681, the last Catholic to have the dubious honor at Tyburn.

photo, sign, square gabriel pierne

This is unrelated to Paris because it happened somewhere else, wherever it is. You can read something about the club and its occasional facts on a page called the About the Club Webpage. Readers who actually do read some of it, and some of you might, will not fail to grasp the vague thrust of it, and could attempt to download the club's official scrap of a free but utterly worthless membership card.

photo, sign, degustation

This Was Metropole Ten Years Ago

It is hardly surprising that ten years ago was a long time before now. This Metropole used to have good new stuff in it every week. It still has all of this good stuff but some of it is getting pretty old, somewhat like Ed himself. I wish I could say everything is aging well.

Café Life Légère 89.4

Path To Enlightenment

Today's Quote of the Week has no connection to anything at all this week. Today is two–for–one quote day, with the first being from Jean de La Fontaine. He wrote, "Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it." That's kind of short, so what about this, "Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then go ask at the Genius Bar." This could have been said by Justin K. Dinwitty but no one was there to record it.

Wobble–Gold In Her Hair

There are no less than 175 days left of this year, the same number that 1762 had when Sophie von Anhalt–Zerbst, a ripe old 43 years old, became Catherine II Empress of Russia. Acclaimed by the folk, supported by the army, she was crowned at Our Lady of Kazan at Saint Petersburg. A week later Peter III, mister Catherine the Great, died suddenly. His wife ruled the country for 34 years.

photo, sign, avenue de new york

Chameleon

This is totally unconnected to the fact that this year has used up 190 days, the same number that 1815 had when Charles–Maurice de Talleyrand–Périgord, Prince de Benevente became prime minister of France. Although he resigned as a bishop after being excommunicated, he served many masters well, promoted public education, was kicked out of Britain, dabbled in commodity trading and real–estate speculation in the United States and managed to die rich at a time when many died on the Guillotine.

Patazone Unamended

It's unnecessary to thank Metropole for reminding you that today marks the anniversary in 1868 of the ratification of the 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution. In case you have forgotten it, it reads in part, "All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." This law is still on the books.

photo, sign, jewelled turtle

The Ex–Question of Schleswig–Holstein

Many folks have probably been reminded that today is the anniversary in 1922 of the breaking of the one minute barrier for the 100 metre freestyle swim by Johnny Weissmuller. He also won five Olympic gold medals, while turning in 1929 to Hollywood to become the sixth Tarzan of the Apes. In all Weissmuller appeared in 34 films, from 1929 until 1976, and he died in Acapulco. On a somber note today was the birthday of the late Root Boy Slim, aka Foster MacKenzie III – no relation to Catherine – best known for leading the Root Boy Slim and the Sex Change Band, famous for songs like Boogie 'Til You Puke. Those who heard the band said Root Boy Slim was, "The Lenny Bruce of the Blues." I must check this out.

A bientôt à Paris
signature, regards, ric

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