I spoke too soon. The Olympic nightmare continues.
There’s yet another Major Media Event planned for this weekend. The entire area around the Champs-Élysées will be locked down—again—for some sort of umpteenth taxpayer-funded Olympic parade, even though the Olympics ended weeks ago and the Paralympics ended a week ago. More pat-down searches, identity checks, stores closed, barricades up. It never seems to end.
Hotels and restaurants that had hiked their prices during the Jeux saw their bookings dwindle, unless they were right next to event venues. Airbnb landlords who had hiked their rates saw the same, as anyone not interested specifically in these Major Media Events stayed away from Paris. And landlords who had evicted their tenants specifically to cash in with short-term rentals during the Games experienced the same disappointments. Good riddance to them all.
I didn’t go out much during the Olympics and Paralympics. You had to have a special pass to enter many areas of the city, which required weeks to get, lots of intrusive paperwork, and a background check—for every movement. It wasn’t worth it.
Speaking of evictions, I am being evicted for the third time. There are severe constraints on raising rents in Paris, so landlords who want to make more money simply evict their tenants. Legally, this can only be done for certain reasons, such as a planned sale of the property or renting the property to a family member, and these were the excuses used in my case on each occasion. Of course, hardly anyone checks up to make sure the apartment is really rented to a relative or sold, and some apartments are simply rented out again at a significantly higher price. There is a perpetual shortage of housing in Paris, especially after you deduct all the empty, unrented properties owned by rich, absentee foreigners, and Airbnb-style short-term rentals to tourists.
Let’s hope it will be at least another hundred years before the government forces another instance of the Olympic Games down the throats of Parisians.
Only two posts a year; I guess I’m not the most prolific blogger around. But nobody reads the blog anyway.
Last night was New Year’s Eve, and 1.5 million people were expected on the Champs. In fact, “only” about 800,000 showed up, perhaps because of very tight security and predictions of rain (that did not seem to materialize). The security was sort of a practice run for the 2024 Olympic Games, which will afflict the city this coming summer. There were no incidents, so I guess the draconian security worked.
I didn’t attend the festivities, as I am wary of crowds and firecrackers. I don’t want to be trampled or end up like Pete Townsend.
The festivities apparently made allusion to the 2024 Olympic Games, a farce of astronomical proportions that will cost the taxpayers billions and will make Parisians prisoners in their own homes. And unfortunately it will make Paris even more attractive to terrorists. But a handful of rich people will be further enriched by them, and that’s all that counts.
I recommend that anyone contemplating a trip to Paris defer it or at least avoid it anywhere near the Olympic Games. Even prices in the Métro are being hiked to profit from them.
Inflation is rampant this year, and my fixed subsistence income is not keeping pace, despite occasional cost-of-living increases.
Electricity has gone up by 20%, split into two increases this year. Fifty euro of groceries, carefully selected to maximize value for the money, now covers less than two dozen items, enough for a week of very frugal meals (mostly oatmeal). I’ve read that fuel costs have increased greatly, but fortunately I don’t have or need a car, so I haven’t been directly affected by that. I did see a greater-than-usual rent increase this year, however.
I mainly try to save money by eating less. Grocery costs are the one variable that can be adjusted within a substantial range. In addition to oatmeal, I eat a lot of other cheap carbs, such as pound cake, which provide a lot of calories at a low price. Protein, fruits, and vegetables are usually not affordable. It is hardly ideal, especially in view of my health issues, but it beats starvation.
Inflation would be a lot worse if the government were not intervening right and left to subsidize price controls. I don’t know how long that can continue. I’ve read that this is largely due to a war in Ukraine, but I don’t know how true that is.
This year, France is vying for the red badge of courage by banning the use of disposable packaging for fast food consumed on the premises. That is, if you eat at McDonald’s, the restaurant is required to serve your food in reusable containers rather than paper or plastic containers that are thrown away after use. Like a conventional restaurant.
At first glance, it seems like a good idea. Maybe it is. But questions soon arise. It’s ironic that a country that was hysterically paranoid only a year or two ago about spreading a virus with a mortality of less than 0.5%—to the point of locking people up at home with prison terms for escapees—now wants everyone to share food containers with strangers in fast-food restaurants. How well will these containers be washed?
How many infections of all types will be spread by inadequately cleaned containers? That remains to be seen. If you’ve ever noticed the condition of the reusable trays in fast-food places, you can understand my concern—and trays don’t actually touch the food.
The rules don’t apply to take-out food, thank goodness. If and when I can again afford fast food, I think I’ll limit myself to take-out food.
I haven’t been to the Foire des Tuileries, and now it looks like I won’t be able to go this year, as the Reich has now transformed all unvaccinated persons (about half the population) into pariahs who are prohibited from participating in most “non-essential” activities of society. These modern-day lepers are prohibited from entering restaurants and cafés, gyms, shopping centers, amusement parks, theaters, cinemas, concert halls, exhibitions and fairs, conferences, discotheques, bars, clubs, and many other venues. They are also prohibited from using most forms of collective transportation.
I am not vaccinated for several reasons. First, the Deadly Virus isn’t actually deadly—not by a long shot (and that includes the Deadly Delta Variant). Second, the virus mutates regularly, and is just one of a great many similar viruses, and logically, if I were paranoid enough to seek vaccination for one, I’d have to get vaccination for all. Third, the mRNA vaccines are experimental, and I’m wary of new drugs (thalidomide and fen-phen spring to mind, as well as prion-like delayed-action pathogenic processes). Fourth, while infection rates are increasing, hospitalizations, ICU occupancy, and deaths are not.
I don’t really have any money, anyway, so I only go outside for groceries. Being introverted helps, too, as it has throughout this hysteria.
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| Rainy day on Champs |
The iron hand has loosened its grip a bit, at least until the government finds a new excuse to trample civil liberties. More and more places are reopening, and Paris is again accessible to tourists, albeit not without numerous restrictions. It remains to be seen how long it will take for the tourists to return. Paris was breaking records for tourism before the Deadly Virus hysteria began. My intuition tells me that there are many potential visitors who can’t wait to return to Paris. But things have changed, and not for the better.
• • •
Last Saturday, the Foire des Tuileries, a yearly summer carnival in the Tuileries Gardens (the park next to the Louvre), opened for its 2021 run. I haven’t been there in several years. It has the usual assortment of thrill rides, a big Ferris wheel, and lots of places selling food that is very tasty. I’ve never been a fan of rides, but the atmosphere is nice, and so is the food. Usually the same rides and concessions appear year after year. There’s a place that sells gyro sandwiches that I really like, plus some stands that sell decadent things like fruity granités (slushy drinks made of frozen fruit-flavored syrups), and fried donut holes and churros. The carnival is on Line 1 of the Métro, making it convenient for tourists. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go this year; we’ll see.
• • •
After an incredible sixteen years of “renovation,” the La Samaritane department store has been reincarnated—in a different body, alas! La Samaritaine was one of the iconic grands magasins of Paris, along with Printemps, Galeries Lafayette, Le Bon Marché, and Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville, as well as the late Aux Trois Quartiers and La Belle Jardinière.
The slogan of Samaritaine used to be “On trouve tout à La Samaritaine” (“You can find everything at Samaritaine”), and this was very nearly true. It catered to the needs of everyday Parisians, in the days when everyday Parisians actually existed in significant numbers. It had great gardening and home improvement departments, and a huge selection of toys at Christmastime. But with increasing gentrification of the area, and everyday Parisians being replaced by absentee foreign millionaires with no need for washing machines or light bulbs, revenues dropped. For this reason, and also in part (supposedly) because of building-code issues with the ornate but aging Art Deco and Art Nouveau buildings occupied by the store, it was closed nearly two decades ago, for renovation and repurposing.
Now it’s open again, but a bit like Aux Trois Quartiers, it has been diced and sliced and reworked so that its owner, luxury retailer LVMH, can make more money. In addition to a much smaller department store concentrating on the type of luxury trinkets that tourists prefer, it includes a boutique hotel, and I think also some offices and housing, and a day-care center (no doubt because the city insisted upon it). At least some of the original architecture has been restored; parts of the complex, at least, have historic landmark status.
Only a few days after it reopened, some external walls of the building were vandalized with graffiti, which aroused considerable public indignation.
• • •
Discotheques and clubs have now been permitted to reopen by the Reich, after being closed for sixteen months. They reopened on Friday—or at least some of them did. Many have stayed closed, in part because of their anticipation of another wave of sweeping restrictions imposed by the Reich, and in part because of the draconian restrictions on how they operate that threaten to make them unprofitable.
And indeed, the dreaded “Delta” variant of the Deadly Virus seems to be producing a new surge in hysteria, just as baseless as its predecessors. Despite an even lower mortality than the standard virus, Big Brother is mumbling about mandatory vaccinations and extensions of the vaccination passport, as well as yet another prolongation of the perpetual state of emergency.
I'm not a clubber myself, but there are several clubs in my neighborhood, and I haven’t noticed any increase in traffic this weekend. I wonder how much business they are doing.
• • •
The Eiffel Tower is set to reopen on the 16th, according to its web site. I only go there when accompanying visitors. The rules are a pain and the cost is too, at €26 per person—price increases have far outstripped inflation.
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| Louvre in the old days |
Disneyland is open now, but a one-day ticket costs €116, and once again, you have to reserve a slot in advance, even with an Annual Pass—and those aren’t being sold yet, so who knows what they will cost? Although I’ve always been a strong Disneyphile, I’ll be forced to refrain for the foreseeable future. It’s no fun in a police state, anyway. I still have my memories of far better days.
• • •
All in all, things are far from business as normal. Will they ever be normal again? Who knows? The future is extremely uncertain these days. Society is dominated by fear, intolerance, extreme attitudes and hysteria. I predict it will get worse before it gets better.
Tomorrow the Reich has promised to again respect a handful of rights that it had lately treated as forbidden privileges, such as being able to go to a store or restaurant. The 7 PM curfew will be pushed to 9 PM. Movie theaters, live theaters, and museums will reopen. The Eiffel Tower is supposed to reopen on June 16, after a nine-month hiatus. Disneyland is supposed to reopen on June 19. Hotels will be open from what I understand, but I don’t know where they will find customers.
No word on when mask mandates will be lifted, if ever.
We shall see how this first day of fewer restrictions on fundamental freedoms will work out. I don’t personally go to theaters or restaurants, so I won’t really be affected by most of these changes, but public excitement appears to be building, as usual, or at least that’s the impression the media seem to be trying to create.
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| Roofless Notre-Dame |
• • •
In other news … the plaza in front of Notre-Dame has been closed again, due to high levels of lead again being detected. The fire at Notre-Dame two years ago melted and burned away its 300-ton lead roof, which resulted in some light lead residues in the neighborhood. With the hysterical overreaction that is a hallmark of our times, the entire area was sealed off for a while. Now the plaza is blocked off again, until further cleanup can be carried out.
Well, the government has lately been mumbling about restoring the freedoms that they illegitimately canceled more than a year ago, and about gradually allowing the peons over whose liberties they’ve run roughshod to gradually crawl back with respectfully bowed heads to a more normal life. Ostensibly this is because the heroic and unerring efforts of the Dear Leaders of society have saved us all from the near-apocalypse of the Deadly Virus pandemic. The reality, I think, is however somewhat different.
First, this magnanimous gesture serves as a bone thrown to the masses as a reward for their obedience and submission.
Second, the natives are increasingly restless. It seems that, more and more, they are comparing what they’re being told with what is actually happening; and as the hysteria—and the hypnotically compelling effect it exerts—begins to show signs of weakening in consequence, more and more people brazenly question the restrictions imposed by the Reich and come closer and closer to just chucking them all in massive civil disobedience.
Third, I daresay that, even as impaired in their reasoning as the powers that be apparently are, they must realize that the scary Deadly Virus theater cannot extend its 14-month run for eternity; and finding a way to bring down the final curtain gracefully—without actually admitting what a farce it was from the start—must begin somewhere.
And so the government has made known its ridiculously complex plan for allowing the proles to throw off their chains between now and the end of June. In the best tradition of French bureaucracy, it is awash with pages of dates, figures, and other arbitrary details and constraints—none of them supported by any type of science, of course. I haven’t been able to summon the patience to read this plan in its entirety, but I note that reopening of restaurants, museums, gyms, and some other businesses (but not discotheques) is mentioned, for specific dates—with all sorts of limits, naturally.
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| The good old days |
• • •
Meanwhile, back at the Palais Bourbon … the French National Assembly has rejected a plan by the goverment to create a “vaccination pass” that would be required for travel and for admittance to certain other venues under vaguely specified circumstances. It’s the vagueness that made the Assembly wary. I hope this means that members of the Assembly are regenerating the backbones that they’ve resorbed over the past year. Even so, I suspect they’ll cave soon enough. The pass will take the form of a QR code; I guess yellow stars are technically passé these days.
• • •
I’m still looking for work, after being laid off late last year by my employer, who was faced with an 80% loss in revenue due to Deadly Virus hysteria. I submit applications but nobody replies. And I wonder how I’d get to an interview or job, anyway, since my physical condition has deteriorated dramatically after over a year of sitting at home and it’s hard to walk more than a short distance. That’s a consequence of the DVH, too.
(Note: I don’t call the DV by name because anyone who doesn’t toe the party line precisely with respect to it risks being forcibly silenced. Orwell’s prophetic novel, 1984, entered the public domain not long ago, and it seems to have been taken as a model for public policy now as well.)
I keep busy with job searching, along with small, sedentary projects in my chosen fields of IT, graphics, and audio-visual arts. It’s unfortunate that nobody seems willing to pat for any of the latter.
The weather has remained generally excellent. The days when I could go for long walks seem far away, even though they were only a bit over a year ago.
Not much to report lately. Paris is largely in suspended animation, still mostly paralyzed by hysteria over the Deadly Virus. A third lockdown is in effect, although it is more bureaucracy than substance this time. The streets are not as deserted as the were during the first lockdown. There are still no tourists, however.
Some major hotels are laying off staff. Fauchon, next to the Madeleine, is closing that iconic store and others (its major competitor, Hédiard, went out of business several years ago). Disneyland is still closed, but has converted one building into a giant vaccination center. Most places are closed, in fact, this being imposed by the lockdown. Hairdressers (but not beauty salons in general) and barbers are allowed to remain open for this round, for some reason. The Louvre and other museums are closed. The Eiffel Tower is closed. Shopping centers are closed (I think—it’s hard to keep up). And schools are a mess, with policies changing daily. Each lockdown is more complex and absurd and bureaucratic than its predecessor.
Everyone must still wear a mask everywhere. There is a push to get everyone vaccinated; I suppose at some point everyone refusing vaccination will be rounded up and shot. About 30,000 people a day test positive for the virus; at that rate, the entire country will be contaminated … in six years. And with the current mortality, everyone in France will be dead in just six centuries.
You still need your “papers” to go outside, and there’s still a curfew at 7 PM. But with shops and restaurants still closed (except for take-away and delivered meals), there aren’t many places to go. The weather in Paris is excellent—as it usually is in April—but there’s no easy way to profit from it.
On a recent visit to the Champs-Élysées running errands, I noticed more people out and about than during the first lockdown; and considering that they’re all locals—tourists are still conspicuously absent—I guess it was a reasonable crowd. A fair amount of vehicular traffic, too, although less than normal (insofar as I can still remember what “normal” was like).
I’d like to shoot more videos for my YouTube channel, but with the city currently resembling a wax museum, topics are in short supply. I suppose I could document stores closing and going out of business. In the past year there has been an uptick in gang violence n Paris which is unusual … but everything happening these days seems to be unusual. Strikes, demonstrations, gun violence, virus hysteria, hysterical reactions to relatively trivial events: it’s all very strange, a bit surreal.
I should try to document the newly renovated place de la République, place de la Bastille, and place d’Italie, but with so much hysteria and uncertainty these days, it’s logistically challenging. I have a very long list of things t do when and if society ever returns to normal. I haven’t even had my hair cut in almost two years and it’s down to my shoulders.
The artists are disappearing from the famous square at the top of Montmartre, the place du Tertre. Already, 80% of the square has been taken over by tourist-trap restaurants (currently closed, but their terraces are still there), and another 25 artists’ spots have been removed to make room for still more restaurant terraces. A famous, huge wisteria tree near the square (place du Calvaire) has been cut down by the city, too, raising a local outcry—but trees do get old and sometimes sick and must occasionally be replaced. This 129-year-old tree was dying, so it had to go. When you look at the trees on the boulevard Clichy or the square du Vert-Galant, you see how quickly they can grow to a large size, so it’s not that big a deal to have to cut one down from time to time.
The Reich is now mumbling again about resuming the respect of civil liberties. It has mentioned gradually reopening society starting this month. But policies change daily and promises ring hollow.
Almost exactly a year after entering its first useless lockdown, France has just entered its third useless lockdown, and it’s the most complicated yet. Citizens must again carry special forms to show to the police in order to venture outside their homes; and failure to have one's papers at hand can lead to fines or jail time. The form is now two pages long. Here's a (translated) sample of some of the text:
Persons residing in departments not subject to reinforced measures may not enter departments subject to reinforced measures beyond a perimeter defined by a 30-kilometer radius centered on their place of residence except for items marked by an asterisk in this declaration as well as within the context of long-distance movements leading only to transit through a zone subject to reinforced measures.
Got it? “Reinforced measures” is the official euphemism for lockdown, the latter apparently sounding too much like what it actually is. The list of businesses that must close (or remain closed), those that can open (or remain open), distance and time limits, and other restrictions is very long. And there's still a curfew, too, for which a different form (sometimes two) is required, ony now it starts at 7 PM instead of 6 PM. Elementary and junior high schools remain open, but high schools close.
Some large stores (below a certain size that varies depending on
several criteria) may remain open, but with certain aisles closed. And so on. I wonder how the government expects every person in France to keep up with these restrictions, especially since they seem to change before they are even officially published.
Museums, cinemas, bars, restaurants and hotels are still closed, and several large hotels have finally laid off most of their staff. Disneyland Paris is still closed, and its competitor, Parc Astérix, will not reopen for the season on the usual date; nobody knows when either venue will open. People try to go for walks, but then the police claim that they are forming forbidden groups and chase them home.
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| Official color of Eiffel Tower |
In other news … the Eiffel Tower (which is also closed) is being repainted. It is repainted every seven years. This repainting is special, though, because instead of just painting over the previous coat of paint as is usually done, on this pass all previous layers of paint are being removed and the new coat is being applied to bare metal. Nineteen coats of paint—130 years’ worth—are being removed. The work is going slowly because many of the older layers of paint contain lead, which these days is considered a hazardous material that must be carefully disposed of. But there’s plenty of time, as the tower is unlikely to reopen any time soon. Anyway, the tower’s official color is Pantone® Eiffel Tower brown, 18-5210 TCX, a kind of grayish brown.
I went out for groceries today. I went during the day, since I have to be indoors again by 6 PM. I bought potato chips, cereal, and milk. I also bought a pack of masks, since the Reich requires that I wear a mask everywhere. And some paracetamol and aspirin, for chronic headaches.
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| Orsay Museum snack bar … in 2017 |
I tried to file for unemployment. I've never had to do it before, so I had to figure it out. I think it worked. It should prolong my survival before I run out of money. Of course, ideally I'll find something before then. Or maybe I'll find a winning lottery ticket on the sidewalk.
As always, the rules continue to change concerning the Deadly Virus. Apparently vaccination won't be sufficient to end the masks ad curfews and distancing. Now there are new and terrifying mutant strains that spread more quickly. The end of the world is nigh, if you believe the government and the media. Or at least the end of the free world.
The hysteria continues. There doesn’t seem to be any way to call people to reason. It is truly a slow-motion train wreck. It afflicts a substantial chunk of the world’s population, and Paris and Parisians are not immune (no pun intended).
I actually went outside today, during the day, and for something other than groceries. My smartphone tells me that I walked 5.1 kilometers, which isn’t bad after ten months of inactivity—although it would have scarcely qualified as even a warm-up in the old days (e.g., a year ago). It was scary because my balance is very poor and I constantly feel that I’m going to fall.
I went to the post office and collected my mail. I went to Decathlon, my go-to destination for practical clothing, and bought some cheap shoes (€17) with Velcro fastenings, because I’m having a lot of trouble tying shoelaces these days. Then I went to Darty, my go-to destination for appliances, and bought some clippers with a gift certificate from my ex-employer, in order to remove the fur on my face that has accumulated over the past several months.
Coming up on the to-do list are a trip to the barber (I haven’t had my hair cut in almost two years, due to all the problems with virus hysteria, strikes, demonstrations, etc.), a trip to the laundromat (I had months of clean laundry, but I’m running low), and a trip to the bank to deposit the reimbursement of a transit pass that the RATP sent me after the strikes in 2019. Plus, I still have to find a job, after the virus hysteria put me out of work.
Less than two years ago, I could afford to buy food, and I had a job, and I didn’t have to wear a useless mask everywhere, and I could stand without falling over, and I could move about freely without being fined or arrested, and shops and restaurants were open and thriving. Things sure changed quickly. Now I understand the old Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.”
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| A sunset from last year |
The rules concerning the Deadly Virus keep changing. I just stay at home rather than try to figure out when, where, and how I’m allowed to go outside. Maybe that’s what the government wants.
I’ve been watching the videos on my YouTube channel just to remind myself what life used to be like, back when retail shops were open and solvent, and you could go where you wanted, when you wanted.
While sitting in my room I’ve been reading about the fast transition from democracy to dictatorship in Germany during the 1930s, and I’m seeing too many unsettling parallels between then and now.
The little refrigerator in my apartment is almost empty. This seems to happen every week or two, and it's very frustrating because it obligates me to leave my room just to go out and buy groceries. It has also been raining for days in Paris, and this further discourages me from going out. The grocery store is quite close, but in rain I must hold an umbrella, which means I can only carry one bag of groceries instead of two. And with the trouble I have just walking in a straight line these days, I worry also about slipping or falling. Nevertheless, objectively I cannot complain about the rain, since we're below our quota for rain in the City of Light.
The weather is supposed to be drier and colder today, but it is a holiday, so most stores are closed—that is, even more are closed than usual, since virus hysteria has closed down a great many businesses already (some permanently). There might be a supermarket or two open, but I hesitate to get all ready and drag myself out only to discover that nothing in the neighborhood is open. I’m still thinking abut it. Maybe tomorrow.
I haven’t been outside for anything other than grocery runs, but I did see a photo in the news yesterday showing the area around the big department stores around the Opéra Garnier packed with shoppers, which I found encouraging. Maybe some people are breaking free from the brainwashing.
I’ve lost track of the current batch of restrictions linked to virus hysteria. Apparently there is still an 8 PM curfew, and everyone still has to wear a mask.I simply take the path of least resistance, by not going out at all. At some point, I really need to visit a laundromat and a barber, but with constantly changing rules I’m afraid to go out, and with increasing inactivity it is becoming physically harder and harder to do so.
The rules are changing again, as they do every day it seems. On the 15th, the need for a police form will be dropped, but an 8 PM curfew will go into effect. Cinemas, theaters, stadiums, concert halls, museums, and poker clubs will remain closed. People under 18 will be able to go to indoor sports centers, but not people 18 or over. Adults can only practice sports outside, and only up to six at a time unless they are on teams. People in nursing homes may visit relatives under certain conditions, but must be tested and observe other restrictions.
Cafés and restaurants will remain closed, at least until January 20 (supposedly). Discotheques and clubs will remain closed … until further notice.
At least that’s the gist of things. Nothing seems to be fully documented anywhere, so I guess you only know for sure if you’re fined or jailed for breaking one of the zillion daily regulations. It’s easier to just not go out at all, which is what I do (except for groceries).
It’s hard to understand how I’m supposed to look for and find a new job under these conditions. It would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but this is a hundred times worse. Barber shops haven’t even been open long enough to get a haircut, and so I look like a wild man or wolf-man, with a fur-covered face behind the legally mandatory mask.
Time passes so swiftly. Life falls so quickly and easily out of balance.
The virus hysteria of this year (but not the virus itself, ironically) has robbed me and millions of others of our health, our jobs, our savings, our freedoms, and a year of our lives. And it has also deprived us of the Christmas markets.
At this time last year, there were Christmas villages in the Tuileries and at La Défense. There were storm clouds on the horizon and transport strikes in progress (and probably a virus already circulating), but the markets were still open. I didn't much care for the trinkets sold at these markets, but I loved the food, and I had enough money to buy snacks one or two times while walking among the little white wooden chalets of these popular markets. Despite the cold and the strikes, they were still busy.
One stand I liked sold great fish and chips. Big boneless fish fillets, fried in a very tasty batter, accompanied by plenty of fries (chips). I would go there sometimes for lunch at Christmastime.
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| Aligot and sausage |
Then there were sandwiches with various fillings, like cheese assortments, smoked salmon, foie gras, cold cuts, tuna salad, roast beef; etc.
Some places sold big slabs of chocolate, or gingerbread cakes, or canelés: little caramel cakes with the texture of foam rubber and custard centers.
Mulled wine was very popular, too, but I don't do drugs so I never bought any. It smelled nice, though.
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| Tuileries Xmas village in 2019 |
I canceled Netflix some time ago, because there wasn't much to see. I had the deluxe version, which was €13.99 a month at the time—still less than a single cinema ticket—but every time I looked for a movie or television series, Netflix didn't have it. And then the service started giving preference to more lucrative in-house productions that didn't really interest me, so I finally closed the account.
I've heard abut a new series on Netflix called Emily in Paris, which has apparently proven very popular. I've looked at excerpts, and reviews, and the basic premise, but I haven't renewed my Netflix subscriptions to watch it. I don't need to fantasize about life in Paris … because I live it in real life. And in fact, with respect to Emily's specific circumstances, I know them very well, because I've actually been there and done that.
Believe it or not, I've even considered (for years) writing a novel literally entitled Emily in Paris with a nearly identical premise. I kid you not. Although I suppose I'd be sued if I tried it now. My novel would emphasize Paris, rather than sex or romance, and thus would target a different audience than that of the Netflix series.
There has been a lot of criticism of the series from French people and Americans familiar with Paris (and Americans who like to give the impression that they are old hands on Paris). They don't seem to realize that the series is entertainment, not a documentary. The clichés and stereotypes shown are chosen to please viewers, not to educate them. The character of Emily and her glaring flaws are chosen to precisely match those of the targeted viewer demographic, so that viewers can identify with Emily and imagine themselves in her place. These targeted viewers are most likely future housewives and soccer moms who will never visit Europe and could not locate France on a map, so there's no harm in letting them wallow in their illusions—they'll never be ambassadors of American goodwill abroad, anyway.
Questions have been raised with respect to Emily's work circumstances, and I am well qualified to speak on that.
Any reputable corporation that regularly sends employees overseas has a department or service dedicated to this. Sending people overseas costs a fortune and involves an extraordinary amount of red tape. Compensation packages are complex. Paperwork takes ages to complete, and assignments are often planned a year in advance. Nobody is sent abroad as a last-minute substitute for another employee who gets pregnant.
Usually people are assigned to foreign service because they have some skill set or talent that cannot be found locally, be it managerial, technical, or creative. Managers who are being groomed for advancement may be sent abroad as a rite of passage, a learning experience, or (rarely) a perk.
All foreign assignments are hardship posts—even Paris. The administrative procedures, logistics, cost, and culture shock make them so. Employees must be carefully prepared and informed. They (and their families, if applicable) must be favorably disposed to a long period living overseas. Even so, about a third of expat employees return home early due to problems adapting, and almost all are eager to return home at the end of an assignment. And for employees sent to Third-World banana republics and the like, all of this is multiplied by at least an order of magnitude.
Foreign-service employees were usually already well paid even before their assignments, and they receive additional compensation needed to adapt to their foreign posts and cover expenses that the locals don't have. So people who say Emily shouldn't be able to afford designer clothing are wrong—it's entirely plausible that she'd be able to afford the most fashionable attire.
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| Eiffel Tower |
As for being clueless and uninterested in culture, that happens with expats, too, so Emily isn't so far removed from reality. There are affluent ghettos in the suburbs of Paris that are filled with American or British or other expat workers who never venture outside their enclaves and speak no French. They are here because their companies sent them here, period, and they'll be happy to return home when their assignments end.
From what I understand, Emily is "fired" by her manager during the first season of Emily in Paris, but a colleague tells her not to worry, since it takes years to fire someone in France. That requires some clarification. First, it doesn't take years to let someone go in France, although the process is much longer (several months) than in the US. Second, Emily is most likely still on a US payroll with a charge back to her French manager's unit, so she is employed "at will" and can be fired on the spot by corporate headquarters. Third, her French manager can request that her assignment be terminated immediately and have her sent back to the USA, but she can't actually fire her since Emily is not on her own payroll. It's complicated (usually).
I've read some remarks from people who say that Emily's apartment is unaffordably large. That's not true, however. She can probably afford it, and her employer is probably helping her with finding and paying for an apartment, which will most likely be larger than what a normal Parisian might have. French salaries are usually dirt, so Emily may be making more than her manager, and several times what her coworkers are being paid.
Anyway, so much for my two cents, based on what I've heard and read and seen. Emily in Paris is fiction, like 99.99% of all movies and TV shows, so I don't see why people criticize it. All fiction is inaccurate. It's just for fun.
One last thing: Sometimes people ask me if Paris is really all it's cracked up to be. My answer is … yes! At least for me. It may not be identical to the fictional City of Light seen in Emily in Paris or Midnight in Paris, but it's still great. It's not by chance that Paris is consistently the world's most popular tourist destination city.
If today is Thanksgiving in the USA, and I think it is (fourth Thursday in November), then tomorrow will be Black Friday—if it hasn't been outlawed by some politician's executive order, that is.
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| Black Friday 2018 |
France started to have a Black Friday a few years ago, too—even though there is no Thanksgiving to precede or motivate it (only a few countries have holidays akin to Thanksgiving). That doesn't keep merchants in the French Republic from imitating the lucrative American tradition of Black Friday itself. The French even promote "Black Friday week," which seems like an oxymoron to me.
Black Friday didn't really work last year, though. I can't remember the exact crisis—demonstrations, or strikes, or alleged terror attacks, or what—but it fizzled. And this year the police state doesn't permit it. There's talk of deferring it to December 4, but since the government commandments change every day, nobody knows for certain, even the politicians who roll the official dice to set policy.
