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They Eat Dolphins?

photo, group of the week, yoko, william Yoko and Willy are the Group of the Week.

If Not, Then Who Does?

by Ric Erickson

Paris:– Thursday, 29. May:–  Willy and I had a thrilling day yesterday, taking a little stroll from Montmartre to the Seine and across to Saint–Germain where we caught the métro and rode up to the Monoprix to get more beers to test. We could have walked all the way but there's an informal law that says a walk across town should take too days at least. Willy said he'd do the second half some other year.

There was no Strike of the Week on the TV–news tonight. Fishermen were still blocking ports in places, including in Portugal, Spain and Italy, but that's not striking, exactly. I'm not sure if the Marseille dockworkers are still on strike. In fact I'm not sure they even were. The city is quiet except for the usual promos and other commercial adventures. Nothing world–class. Who is Willy? He is my number one son. He goes back tomorrow to write an exam and then out comes number two. There isn't enough room for two to camp here at once.

photo, big doll of the weekArtists in St. Germain did
the Big Doll.

In the weather department nothing much was happening just like last Thursday. The sky was cloudy, the temperature was about 22 degrees and it felt humid. It rained a bit. Buses dropped their loads of tourists on the Pont Neuf and traffic was jammed as usual on the Quai du Louvre. More, brief, weather details follow the club report.

The Movie of the Week Club Report

Willy and I caught the métro in Raspail's deconstructed station. He thought it looked okay the way it is but I told him the new tiles would be beautiful even if they were all white like a public toilet. They will re–do the electrics and the signals, add the video cameras, and the place will be fit for dancing in no time, like maybe a year.

My paper guy at Odéon said Le Parisien< was on strike so I got a copy of Liberation. A little lefty news won't hurt me. Getting through the Quartier Latin was no harder à deux than solo so we were on the Pont Neuf in no time flat. Random drops fell out of the sky. A few shots of the posters in front of the Samaritaine and we were almost there, at the club's café, where Monsieur Ferrat said business was a bit slow, compared to last week. All routine, in other words.

photo, big coke of the week Big Drink of the Week.

Willy started to tell me about Dublin 4 where, he said, most folks wore stripy shirts, "Sort of like polo shirts." This turned out to be Rathmines that he was thinking of and I tried to remember it in the '70s when nobody in Ireland wore a polo shirt except maybe visiting firemen from New Jersey.

I asked him what he's seen so far in Paris. Instead of him telling me about the movie we went to because it happened to be there and had a version in VO, he said he rated it as, "Better than Indy 2 but not better than Indy 1 or 3" He also mentioned the 20 minutes of ads, which were neither better nor worse than any other 20–minutes' worth.

The other highlight was the Big Long Walk, but I already mentioned it. We couldn't get into the Quinze for dinner after it so we went to a crêpe joint I have successfully avoided for nine years. We got a table outside, under the overcast and listened to the melodious screeching of a couple of batty birds. Willy decided not to have a crêpe with an egg sunnysideup, if that is what it was, and we finished off with a mess of ice cream and chocolate sauce, on a thin pancake. French gooble food.

photo, willy, inside cafe Encore for our hero.

I'll skip the DVD movies we watched, except to say they were all better than any version of Indy. We talked about food, like smoothies which I never heard of. I thought they were yogis. Willy said, "Add 10 years to your life, for a dollar!" He asked if maybe the Monoprix had sirop de Grenadine. "In Paris," he said, "They have sirop."

He told me about a visit to Amsterdam. It doesn't make it the City of the Week. "Bad weather, panic city, tame war zone!" he said. He, they, had a little map showing all the coffee shops. Then, about Southpark he said, "New boundaries that you can go over." Did I say that Willy has a south Dublin accent? Well, he has. I'm not sure I heard right about any of it.

It was just as well that member Yoko arrived, to tell us about her adventures showing folks how close their new apartment is to a busstop. When she learned that Willy was from Ireland she said, "Fish and chips are really oily."

photo, yoko, inside cafe Yoko sans shades and dolphins.

When Willy went out to the terrace to see about a smoke Yoko told me that somebody told her that some Irish originated in Egypt where they had been slaves. "That's where the black hair comes from," she said. Then she told me where the original Japanese came from. Besides the ones already there.

The part I never did understand was the bit about eating dolphins. Willy kept saying he had seen it on uTube. As hard as we could think none of us could remember seeing dolphin on a menu. Turtles now, Yoko was certain that turtle soup was a pick–me–up for tired fellows. We paid the Waiter of the Week and got out of there, which I would characterize as the Getaway of the Week.

Mystery In the Sky Weather

So–so weather continues, back to being personally insulting so I'm considering writing a 13 word, or longer, tirade about it. Until spring is over will probably be around the end of August. Here is the lousy update:

I don't know what influence we are under. There is a lot of nasty growling around, coming up from Italy I think. Around here there is a narrow gulch with a funnel of so–so, clearing, semi–sunny, with a high of 20. Saturday will be about the same, with random outbreaks, ditto of Friday, with 22 as the high. Mystery happens on Sunday. The TV–weather guy zipped though it too fast. Maybe better than Saturday, maybe warmer. More, better, funnel. If west meets east, goodbye funnel, hello crummy. Nobody here cares about the Riviera. Viva Roland Garros and its perpetual rain!

About the Café Metropole Club

Curl your fingers tight tight around your mouse to see a club meeting report buried in deep somewhere in these pages. Less exciting than dodging pigeons during club meetings but everything is seldom perfect. A clue about what we might have been doing today may help and can be found on the About the Café Metropole Club webpage.

graphic, club location map

Dolphins In the Patazone

Like all unrehearsed Thursdays , semi out of control and usually, like today, two beautiful members present. Club meetings run from 15:00 to 17:00 on Thursdays. The next meeting will be on Thursday, 5. June rain or shine. The metric times are equivalent to 3 to 5 pm around other unmetric places, while meetings are held right here. If you feel like saying something that can be heard by the other members present if there are any and if they are listening, and sometimes they are, but not always.* Your other, absolutely true, stories are totally welcome too even if they are true.

Caution – should you have a personal desire to remain unfindable via the Web, be sure to inform the club's secretary that you prefer to be 404 – not found by Web search engines before becoming found. Stay lost if you must.

*The above paragraphs are relatively unchanged since the last report a week ago because of Yoko's insistance on staying here because of 34 degrees in the beautiful Balkans.

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.
Next club meeting on Thursday, 5. June.

A bientôt à Paris
signature, regards, ric

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