Category: Fourre-tout

When I was in high school, like most of the French kids, I read a book by Alphonse Daudet, called Tartarin de Tarascon. And like anybody who read that book, I had a good laugh.

Yesterday, talking about the Florida shooting Tartarin of Washington told a gathering of US governors at the White House:

“You don’t know until you test it, but I think, I really believe I’d run in there, even if I didn’t have a weapon, and I think most of the people in this room would have done that too.”

Most of the people in America must have burst out laughing. This man has the uncanny ability to put his foot in his mouth.

As Stephen Colbert remarked in his monologue,

“There’s a lot in there that I doubt, but the part I really don’t believe is that he can run,” said Colbert. “Look, sir, we already know how you react to combat situations. You got five deferments from Vietnam.” 

Bragging is a risky occupation, especially when practically everything you do or say is recorded and cataloged. If you are not very careful, what you declared yesterday will swoop back like a boomerang and hit you hard in the derriere. It won’t kill you, but being laughed at is sometimes a fate worse than death.

Bragging is for people who wish they could but can’t. If you can do it, you don’t talk about it, you just do it.

European democracies have found a better system. They have a Prime Minister who does the talk… and takes the fall if the message does not resonate with the audience. The President then interferes and makes a presidential statement cleverly correcting what he told his right-hand man to say.

The limelight is like a tanning bed. It projects high-energy particles that can cause harmful radiation. The longer you stay in it and the more damaging it is to your health and your political career.

Alain

Yesterday 38 players showed up to compete in the One on One tournament taking place in Sonoma, but they were too numerous to be mentioned in this blog. Sorry!

It was cold but due to the lack of wind, not excessively chilly. Just in case, I came prepared with long johns and 5 layers of garments to protect my priceless body.

Three timed games, with 4 boules for each contestant, were played in the morning to determine who would qualify for the Concours and would play in the Consolante.

Yesterday seemed to be my lucky day, and the Gods allowed me to win my 3 morning games which put me in the Concours finals. As I keep saying “I’d rather be lucky than good” but smart aleck Patrick corrected me by saying “I’d rather be lucky and good” and he is damn right.

In any case I qualified for the Concours and I went ahead despite a painful back pain. Holly Sammons came to the rescue with 2 Tylenol pills and I went ahead with my ride. Thank you Holly, a good deed never goes unpunished.

On my 4th game I still managed another win but my lucky ride came to an end in my 5th game when I was thrown off of my horse by Ed Clay.

In the finals, played on a tricky gravelly court, David Lanter faced Delio Cuneo. Both excellent players. What followed was basically a game of “plumbing.”

What does it mean to “plomber” a boule? The player will throw his boule high in the air to give it more speed and more weight when it lands. This action minimizes the rolling of the boule when it touches the ground and allows it to stay closer to the cochonnet.

Both players were very familiar with this technique and used it almost exclusively. In my opinion Delio proved to be a better “plumber” and David a better “au fer” shooter with some spectacular shots.

Ultimately Delio prevails with a score of 13/7. A great match, evenly balanced.

Final results

Concours
1st place: Delio Cuneo
2nd place: David Lanter
3rd place: Jean-Michel Poulnot

Consolante A
1st place: Joe La Torre
2nd place: Steve Wolf
3rd place: Steve Paulsen

Consolante B
1st place: Antonia Paulsen

A great pétanque day!

Alain

As usual, you can look at photos of this event by clicking on the “My Photos” link located on the right side of this page. For best viewing, go Full Screen.

I hate do-gooders, those exasperating interlopers!

You are in a hurry. You have to meet a very important client for lunch and he has told you in no uncertain terms that he likes people to be punctual. OK, got that.

So you are downtown, fighting traffic and trying to make it on time for your meeting. You are stuck behind a slowpoke who has taken roots at a stop sign. A gap suddenly opens in the pedestrian flow going through the crosswalk. All right, go!
Go! What are you waiting for? The do-gooder in front of me has spotted a little old lady who is hesitating to cross the street and he is encouraging her to do so. At my expense! Cool it granny, step back!

Hate those guys bent on doing good! Never mind the fact that I am going to lose a fifty thousand bucks sale, this guy has got to do his Boy Scout bit.

Sometimes I seem to be stalked by Do-gooders. They always seem to appear when I am under pressure. Like last week… I parked at a meter and rushed into a building to drop a document. I get into an elevator with another fellow. He punches his floor, I punch mine.

OK, let’s go! But No. The guy is holding the door for a pregnant woman! What business does a woman in family way have to come downtown? Why doesn’t she stay home with milk and cookies and save me another parking ticket?

I told you, I am stalked by do-gooders.

A few days ago, I was in line at the supermarket waiting to have my goods processed by the food checker. Suddenly an older woman with a strong Russian accent engaged in an argument with the checker. The food checker obviously doesn’t understand what the old woman is saying.
Houston, we have a problem!

Out of nowhere, a distinguished looking gentleman appears and starts translating for the Babushka. There is hope… But what’s that? The Russian expats are now engaged in a lively conversation and smiling. This exchange doesn’t have anything to do with business; it reeks of social intercourse. Damn the Do-gooders!

And I think that the blasted thing is catching.

Two days ago, I was driving downtown when I noticed a lost pooch. I know when a dog is in trouble. Without a second thought I stopped my car  and approached the mutt. The poor thing was shivering and looking very despondent. I managed to grab him and take him into my car. Don’t worry pooch, I’ll take care of you.

Somebody behind me started honking. Bastard! Don’t you have any heart?

Alain

PS: You can now view this page in French, Spanish, German and Russian. To do so, please click on the Translate sign located on the right side (bottom) of this post and choose the language that suits you best.
The translation by the way is far from being perfect!