Category: Fourre-tout

So, what happened yesterday in San Rafael? Plenty, my friends and I am here to enlighten you, with words and images.

First, the weather. It was as capricious as a spoiled girlfriend. Cool in the morning, then warming up a little bit in the afternoon, and finally as cold as witches’ bubbies in the evening. it was so cold that despite my five layers of clothing I literally froze my little “derrière”.

To put things in perspective, to give you a full report, I was on the field from 9:00 am until 7:00 pm. A full day of hard labor.

But back to the main story. Sixty (60) people signed up to play in our tournament, with heavyweights coming from Sonoma, Petaluma and Sacramento. These days, with a 2 hours drive and the price of gasoline exceeding $6.00 per gallon, you really must love pétanque to come all the way from Sacto to play.

As usual, 3 games were played before lunch, and elimination games followed in the afternoon in the Concours and the Consolante sections.

My team included Tamara, the other Alain (my twin) from Petaluma, and myself. We lost 2 games in the morning and won one. We then ended up in the Consolante where things suddenly deviated from my script. I was planning on getting eliminated first thing in the afternoon and concentrating on photographing the event, but then we won another game and had to remain on active duty for another game.

Finally, around 3:00 pm, Ed Porto, Patrick Vaslet, and Shannon Bowman battered us 13/8 and we were out of the race. I immediately grabbed Big Bertha (my combat camera) and started shooting everything in sight. There was plenty of action, but since I still cannot be at two places at the same time, I tried my best to catch the most interesting stuff.

Late in the afternoon, I concentrated on the Concours Semi-finals and later in the Concours Finals. In the semifinals, it was Kevin, Wolfie, and Ashlee against Brendan, Tom Lee, and Suzy Lee. Wolfie’s team won.

In the Finals, Kevin’s team faced Mike Lee, Kue Lee, and Michelle Dang, the toughies from Sacramento. It was a very interesting match with everybody playing very well. On Wolfie’s side, Ashlee pointed extremely well. She was obviously in the “Zone” and could not do anything wrong. Kevin also amazed me (and everybody else) with his signature “plombés”. Kevin shot… and killed.

On the other side, Michelle Dang pointed, with Mike Lee and Kue Lee being the enforcers. Kue Lee proved to be an unconventional but very accurate shooter. If you noticed, he threw his boules with “open palm” rather than palm down, but he was amazingly accurate. Mike Lee (the Sphinx) was also very good and helped a lot.

Wolfie’s team finally won by 13/10, a very close score. The last game ended up around 7:00 pm with by then only a handful of half-frozen spectators remaining.

I quickly took the pictures of all the remaining winners and ran like hell for my car and a bit of warmth.

Concours:
1^st place:        Wolfie K, Kevin Evoy, Ashlee Dencklau                $72/ea

2^nd place:       M. Lee, Kue Lee, Michelle Dang                                 $60/ea

The 2 teams in 3rd place decided not to play and split the fees

3^rd place:       B. Cohen, T. Lee, S. Lee/B. Pierce, E. Hay, R. Seder                            $24/ea

Consolante:
1^st place:        Ed Porto, P. Vaslet, Shannon Bowman              $36/ea

2^nd place:       J-C Bunand, J. Gautier, Emily Etcheverry           $24/ea

Alain

Go to « My Photos” to see the pictures. For best viewing, go “full screen”.

PS: Due to the fact that I have used 3 different recording devices, all the photos are not in chronological order. Sorry about that.

“Past 60, if you wake up with no pain anywhere, you’re probably dead.”

A famous French actor once said this, and I totally agree with his statement. Nowadays, I often wake up and need to talk to somebody to verify that I am still alive.

The French, between grumblings, came up with an amusing term to identify their ailing citizens. Tamalou, a made-up word whose root stems from the expression “t’as mal où?” (Where do you hurt?). So, all the senior citizens are basically all Tamalous, because when they meet, instead of cracking jokes as they should, one of their leitmotifs is Tamalou, “where do you hurt?”

Because after a certain age, pain starts shadowing you. It follows you everywhere like a faithful pet who doesn’t even stop to pee. Hey, where are you going? don’t leave me behind… we are buddies…

 I wonder who is the fool who started the legend about the Golden Years? What gold? All you get is lead, and it is a particularly heavy load to carry. The real Golden Years are probably your twenties and thirties, and you should be reminded of this often in order not to waste those precious decades… after this, you are just on the waiting list to join the Tamalou club.

What about doctors? Are they your knights in shining armor defending you against your enemies? Not exactly.

“A doctor is a man who writes prescriptions, till the patient either dies or is cured by nature.” – John Taylor

 When I was a child, doctors’ main characteristic was their almost illegible writing. It was then up to the pharmacist to figure out what these hieroglyphs meant. Today doctors don’t write prescriptions by hand anymore, but they have a greater variety of drugs at their disposal, and prescriptions, they do prescribe, liberally.

And then you have Tamalous… and Tamalous. A good Tamalou is a person who despite his/her growing age and aching body kept his sense of humor and still can laugh at others and himself.

A not-so-good Tamalou is a bad-tempered grump, who is mad at the world and blames everybody for his poor condition.

Tamalous are often bitching but as Maurice Chevalier once said:

“Growing old isn’t so bad when you consider the alternative.”

 N’est-ce pas ?

 Alain

I am obsessed with the Russian-Ukrainian war. A fratricide conflict that should never have occurred. Russia and Ukraine are two closely related nations, with many Russians living peacefully in Ukraine and vice versa. This war is alas a reenactment of the American Civil War that pitted brothers against brothers between 1861 and 1865,

Russia is unquestionably the aggressor and Ukraine the recipient of Putin’s madness, but the Russian people are far from being unanimous about this conflict. Many disagree with each other because this war is also a gigantic battle of information, misinformation, and disinformation.

Due to the government’s tight censure, many Russians have no idea of what’s happening in Ukraine. Some don’t even believe that a war is taking place.

After watching a great number of western YouTube videos, with many Russians reluctant to express their true feelings, it seems that the nation is somewhat divided into two groups: the older generation sticking with Putin and the younger disagreeing with him.

Many anti-war demonstrations have already occurred in Russia, with St Peterburg (the cultural capital of Russia) leading the pack. And despite ferocious pushback by the police, demonstrations are bound to increase, especially after the substantial Russian losses will become known by the public. Mothers will undoubtedly blame their leaders for the pointless loss of their sons and scream their anguish and discontent.

This is an extremely dangerous situation, with the Russian president feeling trapped in a corner by most of the western nations. He might have realized by now that he foolishly engaged in a quagmire, but he is unwilling to lose face and might resort to desperate measures. A nuclear war that nobody can win.

Undisclosed negotiations are surely already taking place, but the Russian intransigence and the Ukrainian chutzpah don’t augur well. Neither side is ready to compromise, and it will become uglier before it becomes better.

This conflict taking place at the other end of the world is affecting the entire planet. Everyone on earth, especially the Russians, is going to feel the pinch because agreeing or disagreeing, we are all connected and dependent on one another.

It is going to become more critical with each passing day and the pressure on Russia is soon going to become untenable. Grumbles in the country will increase and turn into angry accusations that might improbably come from the elite and the oligarchs.

No more jetting or cruising to the south of France. No more extravagant parties in every corner of the world. No more “canard a l’orange” at La Tour d’Argent; you will have to stay home and eat borsht like every common moujik. Who the hell is responsible for this nightmare? will become the burning topic of the nation.

The oligarchs’ trophy wives will soon revolt and besiege their sugar daddies. Do something or I will go in the streets and protest with everybody else…

No, no, любимая (darling) I’ll speak to the boss and  I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse. It’s not going to be personal, it’s going to be strictly business.

This scenario might not happen but I hope that it will and put an end to this indefensible, abhorrent war.

Alain