I'll confess I'm not sure whether Larry was making the cat screech or the dog howl at that moment. Diners and waiters fear the worst.
Should we start another thread and take a poll?
Q: Men: are you like a Stooge? If so, in what way? If not, why not, and how sad does that make you? Q: Women: how closely does your old man resemble a Stooge? Which one(s)? If you never noticed the striking resemblance before, are you now sorry we asked?
kerouac, sorry to profane your beautiful thread with my apparent entire-sex-bashing. I grew up with three fine brothers who were my best friends, and if anything I tend to overly idealize those on your side of the fence.
Actually, there is one thing that I regret. Right across the street from it is a nursing home run by the city of Paris, exactly the same as my mother's nursing home. It is maybe 20 meters from door to door. She was so unhappy to be "locked in" the place where she is for the first two years (she called it "the prison"), since she cannot wander alone in the street, and I always imagine how nice it would have been for her to be able to spend at least part of her days in the café under the supervision of the friends who worked there, feeling more like a normal person.
I just stumbled on this thread and wow, thank you for your cafe adventure. We found a great little place last Sunday around the corner from us. The owner was not too busy and had time to talk with us. He said that a lot of the cafes, bistros are owned by some rather large conglomerates, Flo, etc and there aren't many that are even doing homemade food. He does, it is called L Ami George and it is at 5 rue du Quartre Septembre phone; 01422974880. The food was fantastic, home made foie gras, frites, sauces, etc and he is open on Sunday. There is a nice little bar and he has flat screen TVs. We will be going back there before we leave.
When you're chewing on life's gristle[br]Don't grumble, give a whistle[br]And this'll help things turn out for the best...[br]And...always look on the bright side of life...[br]Always look on the light side of life.[br]Monty Python's Life of Brian[br]
I keep seeing more and more cafés being converted from the old traditional style into things that look like operating rooms or nuclear labs. Pretty soon they will require people to wear paper booties to walk through the door. Yuck.
Thank you, for a portion, of what should be a published book. You have written and photographed so many great pieces on this board. You could formulate them into a novel or biography, whatever you chose would be successful. Brilliant, enjoyed it immensely.
There is so much talent by so many on this board, some days I am overwhelmed, someday I am encouraged.
Kerouac, does your neighbor who is now teaching still have pieces for purchase?
Kerouac, I'm so glad you posted the picture of your neighbor's art today because it bumped the thread up and caught my eye. I had never read the story of your cafe and found it fascinating. I have also appreciated reading many of your other posts, particularly those with photos. The story of your ancestral home near Metz especially interested me since i visited near there in 2010. Thank you for sharing both your stories and your photos.
I was talking to my boss about this today. He is leaving the company at the same time as I. He saw this café as well and visited it a number of times, because his daughter painted the Christmas decorations on the windows one year.
He has a project of opening an Italian café and bookstore in Paris once he leaves the company, so perhaps I will have a new story to tell in a year or two. (No, he has no Italian roots, but Italy is his passion and also that of his daughter.)
Another odd moment this week, when I received a package of mail forwarded by my café friend's former high school employer (I am the forwarding address because he is living in Brazil, managing a Lycée Français there). Always included in the mail are items regarding his father, since he is in charge of his father's administrative documents now that his father has returned to Algeria.
One of the documents was the postal voting document for the independent merchants election, which also concerns retired merchants. Since it was my friend's father's café before he took it over, I took it upon myself to vote in his place (particularly since there was only one day left for the postal vote).
It was very strange to feel that I had a tiny say about what to do regarding shopowner's representation in a world that I left years ago.