As I recounted in Part Three of this series last week, one of the high points of my life to date was obtaining, at exorbitant human and financial cost, a French driver’s license. I had been to driving school, studied … Read More
I could see the writing on the wall. And yet, though I was in darkness, with anguish and affliction all around me, I feared not. Because the writing was a question about speed limits projected on a screen in an … Read More
Some years ago a Kafkaesque set of circumstances arose, the end result of which was that I had to go to school to learn how to do something that I had already been doing for 30 years: operate a motor … Read More
Like politicians, non-stick frying pans and condoms, I don’t always live up to my promises. Last week, I promised to write this week about my on-the-road lessons in French driving school. But then I realized that there is an aspect … Read More
The pig population of Paris peaked last week. One reason for this was the Salon de l’Agriculture, the annual farm and food fair that turns half of the pavilions at the Porte de Versailles exhibition center into a gigantic barn, … Read More
On the evening of December 25, 1870, the then-legendary restaurant Voisin’s on Rue Saint Honoré gave a lavish and now-legendary Christmas banquet. Of course, there were many lavish banquets in Paris back then, as there are now, but what made … Read More
It’s that time of year. The time of year when we all get that old familiar feeling. The feeling that comes from enduring week after week of cold days, long nights and relentless rain and snow. The feeling that makes … Read More
Here’s something I’ve learned from living in a city: for many people, the range of vocal expression between distress and exuberance is surprisingly narrow. In other words, when I hear yelling in the street, I often have a hard time … Read More
When I was a young man, my father took me aside one day and gave me some advice that has served me well throughout my life. “Son,” he said, “Usually there are two or three little metal hooks in the … Read More
I never really thought about chimneys until I moved to Paris. Like everyone else, I had sat in front of the occasional roaring fire, dimly aware that there was this long, hollow, flameproof pipe running from the top of the … Read More
