Honeymoon Nov 14, 2012

WEDNESDAY NOV 14

WIW: striped shirt, jeans.

WRW: purple polo, jeans.

Breakfast in the hotel, which is included and is extraordinary. A lavish continental breakfast: cheeses, meats, rolls, breads, jams, cereals, yogurts, quiche, cake, scrambled eggs, hot ham, juices, coffee, and tea. What a spread. We checked in with a tall stylish guy at the bar, gave him our room number. I went back to him after getting my food and asked, in French, for two glasses of water, please. He gave them to me, accompanied by something between a smile and a sneer. This was the same routine the next day and Friday.

Our first stop was a tour of the opera house at 11:30. Our tour guide was so cute - - somewhere in his thirties, with thinning blond hair and a little French goatee. His English was pretty good, and he spoke with a thick French accent, which only made him cuter.

The opera house was designed by an unknown architect named Garnier. He won the competition because he, more than the other candidates, understood that the true purpose of an opera house is not to display the performance onstage to the audience, it’s to display the audience to itself. It took fifteen years to build, and by the time it was finished he was part of the now despised old regime, and wasn’t invited to the opening night. He never went to a single performance there. He moved to Monaco, and his only other building of note is the Monte Carlo casino. The opera house was stunning, and we were lucky enough to get into the hall itself - - it’s closed if there are performers using the stage, but thankfully they were having a technical rehearsal, and the techies didn’t care. Gorgeous space, lots of fascinating architectural detail all over the house. And a stunning Chagall painting on the dome, which they commissioned in an effort to get people to go to the damn opera.

The Gallerie Lafayette was nearby, sort of the Lord and Taylor of Paris. We started at Lafayette Homme but didn’t find any clothes that we either a) liked or b) could afford. Or both, I suppose. We had better luck at Lafayette Maison, we got an apron for me, matching potholders, and dishtowels for our friends down the hall, who have a brand new kitchen and have been collecting our mail. We had lunch at a cute little bistro in the neighborhood - - Richard had the cheeseburger (which was very rare) and fries, I had a salad with walnuts, apples, bleu cheese, and ham.

We did a speed walk through the Louvre.

WINGED VICTORY. Didn’t seem as big in person.

MONA LISA. Gorgeous and luminous, not at all disappointing. Maddening swarm of humanity taking pictures of it and taking their own pictures in front of it.

We checked out lots of Italian paintings in the same wing, and were struck by one peculiar painting depicting the resurrection - - Jesus is on the cross in the center, other people on crosses nearby, a few crosses being put up, nothing unusual there, but there’s a sort of bubble in the upper right corner of the painting, showing Jesus rising up to the angels, done in a completely different color scheme and style. It reminded Richard of *Mars Attacks!*, and he made that funny gaak! sound the Martians make when they talk (but not so loud that he echoed through the museum). The painting made me think of “Say you, say me”, and how that section in the middle has a totally different beat, it sounds like you’ve switched channels on the radio, it has nothing to do with the rest of the song. wish I had taken a picture of that painting, it sounds like a hoot.

VENUS DE MILO. Again, surrounded by tourists taking pictures, but who am I to talk, I got the cutest picture of Richard taking a picture of it, you can see her on his phone. I had the same reaction to the Venus de Milo as I had to the Mona Lisa - - I bet there are a hundred similar works from the same period that are just as good, so why do they have such a cult surrounding them? But then what do I know?

Say you, say me. Say it together.

We went to the gift shop, I was looking for something for my mother for Christmas. I found something lovely (I don’t want to say what it is because she’s reading this and I don’t want to spoil the surprise) and waited at the counter for someone to help me. There was a middle-aged woman waiting on someone, another middle-aged woman talking with a young man, and a young woman wandering around looking sort of baffled. Richard walked away and saw her wander off to the side and spend like three minutes redoing her makeup and her hair. He approached her.

RICHARD: Excuse me. There’s a very tall guy over there who needs someone to help him.

HER: Euh, yes?

RICHARD: Yes. That guy right there. He wants to buy something and I’m hoping you can help him.

HER: Ha ha ha, I don’t know who you meeeeen!

RICHARD: That tall guy. The only man standing at the counter. It would be a great favor to both of us if you went over there and helped him.

HER: I will do eet.

RICHARD: Merci beaucoup.

She came over to me. I showed her what I wanted, she got it out of the drawer, confirmed that it was what I wanted, peeled the barcode off it, and put it back in the drawer. She put the barcode on a little slip of paper, gave it to me, and told me to go over there and pay the cashier. He would give me a receipt, which I was to bring back to her. She would give the thing to me and wrap it up. Can you believe it.

I went over to the cashier and waited in line. There were four people ahead of me in line. This well-dressed old French lady walked up to the Asian lady who was third in line. She smiled at the Asian lady and stood in front of her in line. The Asian lady looked around, baffled and amazed, but said and did nothing. I figured this was not my battle to fight.

Five minutes later the well-dressed old French lady was now at the register, and another well-dressed old French lady came up to ME, smiled, and stood in front of me.

ME: Pardon madame, vous achetez quelque chose? [Excuse me, madame, are you buying something?]

HER: Ah non, blah blah blah [circuitous explanation I didn’t understand, but did not lead to her walking away].

ME: Pardon madame, mais j’étais ici devant vous, DONC vous devez être derriere moi. [Excuse me, madame, but I was here before you, THEREFORE you should be behind me.]

HER: Ha ha ha, blah blah blah.

She faced forward and did not say anything more. I didn’t want to fight with her anymore because I’d used up all my vocabulary, also I’d used up all my patience and knew that if I took it further I would end up getting arrested. It turns out she really wasn’t buying anything, she just had a question for the cashier and needed to get a little slip of paper from him (again with the stupid slips of paper). She showed me the slip of paper, said something annoying, smiled smugly, and walked away.

I paid for the thing, got the receipt, and brought it back to my original counter. The daffy young woman was no longer there, but the second middle-aged woman was available. She got the thing and wrapped it. I felt like I needed to make something nice out of this unpleasant experience, so I said:

ME: C’est un cadeau de nöel pour ma mere. [It’s a Christmas present for my mother.]

HER: Ah, très bien. [Ah, very good.]

ME: Elle sera très heureuse d’avoir quelque chose du Louvre. [She will be very happy to have something from the Louvre.]

HER: [something about how that’s the nicest kind of gift]

When Richard translated, it came out as, “I don’t give half a crap for you or your mother. Go away.”

We had just enough time to dash home and drop off our stuff, then we had to get to the theater. We met Philippe and Jean at the Theatre de la Huchette for a double bill of Ionesco plays, *The Bald Soprano* followed by *The Lesson*. They’ve been doing these plays in permanent repertory since 1957. They bypassed *The Mousetrap* in 1979 as the play with the longest continuous run - - they played their 10,000th performance in 1987.

There are eighty-five seats in the theater. It was almost full for the first play, there was an American group there, and they seemed to follow the play better than I did. The stage itself is tiny, definitely smaller than my bedroom. The set was painted flats, very high school - - maybe it’s the original set, who knows? Both plays had wonderful roles for actors in the fifties or sixties, four of the six in the first play and two of the three in the second. My favorite actor in either play was the woman who played the first wife in *The Bald Soprano*. She, more than anyone, really nailed the style - - slightly grand and phony, with a posh manner of declamation. The first show was really tight, there were scenes where the actors delivered their lines in very rapid succession and it was seamless. This is specially remarkable because they have a rotating cast, there are up to five actors playing each role. I bet they rarely do two consecutive shows with the same cast.

I had an easier time following *The Bald Soprano* because the dialogue was absurd and I decided to focus less on the meaning of what they were saying and more on the tenor of the conversation. Richard had an easier time following *The Lesson* because the dialogue was more concrete and he could actually understand what was going ON. Very interesting.

Philippe asked if it would be OK if we went to a Vietnamese restaurant he used to go to when he was a student. It took him a while to find it, and when he did he started to lose his nerve. He wasn’t sure we would like it, we assured him it would be fine. He made us promise that we would tell him if we didn’t like it, and we would leave.

Richard looked in the window. He saw about six empty tables, and an old Vietnamese woman in the back, possibly asleep. He told Philippe about this. Philippe knocked on the door and she let us in. Clearly the restaurant hadn’t changed one bit since Philippe was first there thirty years ago. We sat down and looked over the menu. She gave us a few minutes and came over and asked what I wanted. I said I wanted the pork won ton soup, and she said, “How many of those?” It was a cute and funny way to take an order. Three of those. Jean had the lem, which is similar to a spring roll. For the main course I got the pork curry. Three of us had that, and Richard had the chicken chow mein.

I used the bathroom, and I think she might have had her clothes hanging in there - - we definitely had the impression that she lives there. She was watching TV in the kitchen, a French-language Vietnamese channel, showing an educational program about the Spanish royal family.

Our first course came, and it was delicious. The main course was just as good. And it might be the best bargain in Paris: for two courses and dessert (three of us had coconut cake, Richard had sesame nougat), plus a bottle of wine and two bottles of water, we paid just over fifty Euros. And it was a wonderful rare cultural experience!

Next day...