Au Cochonnet Marin

Paris is arguably one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and due to the fact that I was born and grew up there, I am extremely biased about it.

It distresses me to no end to think that in the last 2 weeks the City of Lights has turned into another Beirut. As seen on vivid video clips, the city was racked by violent riots and senseless devastation.

There was rioting all over France and particularly in Paris where the famed Champs-Élysées were the scene of ferocious fighting. Impressive damage was also inflicted upon the Arc de Triomphe and the Avenue Kleber. Numerous cars were set on fire and stores and buildings were vandalized by the so-called Gilets Jaunes “yellow jackets”.

What happened?

Committed to reduce global warming, French president Emmanuel Macron introduced new carbon taxes to urge motorists to change behavior and protect the environment. The fuel tax was accompanied by other measures including incentives to encourage people to buy electric vehicles.
But considering the high price of gas in France (around $5.54/gal) this well-intended initiative was not well received by the electorate.

Many demonstrators complained about their struggles to stay afloat in world afflicted by a disproportionate gap between the rich and the poor. A great number of these people barely make 2,000 euros per month to cover rent, food, taxes, gasoline and many incidentals. Macron on the other hand has been accused of speaking only for the rich.

“Macron’s plight illustrates a conundrum: How do political leaders introduce policies that will do long-term good for the environment without inflicting extra costs on voters that may damage their chances of re-election?”

All demonstrators did not mean to wreck the city, but marginalized young people from the “banlieues” did. These so-called “casseurs” (breakers of things) were not interested in righting wrongs. They descended on Paris with the sole objective of looting and vandalizing.

People have the right to protest government measures that they find unjust or arbitrary, but vandalism of any sort is not the way to do it. A massive, dignified demonstration would do more to rally common folks to their cause than senseless devastation.

On the other hand, profits should not be the only concern of large companies. Board members would be well advised to include philanthropy and altruism in their mission statement. In a perfect world, a percentage of their profits should be devoted to improve the living conditions of the disadvantaged.

To this effect, many protesters are demanding the immediate reintroduction of the wealth tax (ISF) previously cancelled by Macron.

In the latest news development, the so-called “carbon tax” has been postponed for 6 months. Unfortunately, this does mean that calm will prevail.

Alain

“I think all writing is a disease. You can’t stop it.”— William Carlos Williams

I agree with this. Writing is an affliction difficult to control, and when you start, there is a good chance that you will be hooked for life. As a matter of fact, there ought to be a warning label on your keyboard alerting you to this hazard.

Everybody has hobbies… at least I hope so because if you didn’t you would be a very dull individual.

Personally, I have different side interests, one of which is a fondness for writing. To be candid, I always had a fertile imagination. As a child, I had to write school “compositions” and I always enjoyed making up stories. I was of course writing in French, but it does not make any difference. Writing is writing, regardless of the language.

Writing is also a very stimulating occupation. I call it the “gymnastics of the mind.” To be good at it, you need regular practice, stamina, agility, and occasionally, a square split.

Everybody has a different style and a distinct way of putting a story together. My style is irreverence laced with humor. My very name predisposed me to this; when I was a child every kid naturally called me “effronté” (a play on my name) which in French means cheeky, brazen.
With a name like this, I was clearly destined to be irreverent.

When I tackle a subject, I put pell-mell on paper everything which springs into my mind about my chosen topic. It is like building a house; you bring all the needed material and put in on the ground next to where you plan to build your dwelling. And then you start assembling.

A computer, by the way, is the ideal writer’s helper. When summoned, it instantly helps to authenticate whatever you write about. I don’t think that I could manage without it.

I might write for an hour or two and then take a break. A text is like bread; it has to be kneaded and rested a few times before rising to perfection.

I often sleep on a story and wake up in the middle of the night with a new idea. This is why I sometimes don’t turn my computer off for a few days. I can then get up and easily insert a new turn of phrase to my story.

Writing is above all a kind of introspection. It reflects your thinking and often forces you to reexamine your values. Why do I dislike a certain person? Or a certain philosophy? Why am I enamored of this idea?

Whenever I write I don’t need a confessor; I bare my soul in my scribblings. I always hated anyway the idea of revealing all my dark secrets to a priest. What good would it do me? And this guy might use my confessions to write a best seller thus depriving me of making a bundle with my escapades. No, I would rather confess to my readers than to a bible thumper.

So, if you feel bored during those rainy days, try your hand at writing. It is not easy but the most difficult thing about it by far is to start.

“You can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.” ― Jodi Picoult

Alain

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you was?” Satchel Paige 

An interesting question. Next Epiphany I will become an octogenarian but if you ask me, I would say that I have the mindset of a 50-year-old guy. It is a question of mind over matter. If you fastidiously tally the years, you will feel and act ancient, and to me, it is a regressive, annoying thought.

The older wiser I get, the more I realize how ignorant I am; as a result, I am still eager to learn. If you don’t, you capitulate. You admit defeat and surrendering is not in my nature.

I am curious; this is a quality, not a flaw. Every day I feel the need to learn something new and the internet is a fabulous, non-judgmental teacher.

Seated at my workstation, I can speak to my computer and ask any question that will be immediately answered. For instance, when I asked Siri (just to make sure) how old I was, she said “you are 79 but don’t look a day older than 29”
Useless to say that Siri is a close, trusted friend.

In order to feel alive, you need to always have something to look forward to. A picnic, a date, a play, a dinner… You need to keep your mind engaged and your sense of humor sharp.

One “older” member of our pétanque brotherhood recently took up parachuting. He might look ancient but he is acting like a like a Spring Breaker. Many kudos for that. This is exactly what I am talking about!

The company of young people helps you to remain in the loop. It is a mutually beneficial agreement and both parties gain something from this arrangement.

My friend Charlie is a shining example of what it means to remain youthful. He is not afraid to mix and challenge whippersnappers and often best them in many activities.
His secret weapon is the fact that he is ambidextrous. If he cannot do something with his right hand he switches to his left hand. This is patently underhanded but everything is fair in the game in love and pétanque.

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing.” George Bernard Shaw

Laughter is the best medicine. Furthermore, it is much cheaper and way more efficient than any magic pill advertised on the tube. Laugh about everybody and everything. Unlike some middle eastern countries, we can (and should) poke fun at any official who routinely misleads the public about his questionable deeds.

And regrettably, there is a lot to laugh about (or cry) in these present disUnited States of ours.

Alain