Au Cochonnet Marin

If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart. Nelson Mandela

My mother tongue is French and I spoke it daily until my 24th birthday. Then I moved to America, and not knowing a single soul there, I probably didn’t utter a single word of French for more than a year.

Expatriates come to America as bachelors or as married couples. I surmise that single people learn English faster, through sheer necessity… and often with the eager help of native girlfriends or boyfriends.
A married couple on the other hand will continue to speak its native tongue and don’t feel the same pressure to master English as bachelors.

For my part, I have lived in America twice as long as in France and my French is getting a little rusty. Since I only speak it once or twice a week (sometimes less) some words sometimes escape me. When it happens, I lazily plug the missing words with more familiar English terms.
In the long run, this bad practice will hurt my familiarity with my native language.

English is much simpler than French and much easier to master. It is also more practical. You can often express yourself with much fewer words than in any other Latin language. This is the reason why after a certain time, French immigrants start speaking a hodgepodge of French and English. Instead of saying “c’est formidable” for instance, it is much easier to simply say, “cool”.

But the French generally don’t like abbreviations. Jean-Michel will always remain Jean-Michel and practically never JM. Some people have tried to call me Al, but I strongly object to it. Alain it is and Alain it will remain.

I bet that some Americans would love to call the pope Frank or the Queen of England Lizzie but it would be a big “faux-pas”, probably punishable by Riding the Rail.

In the pétanque environment you can hear a variety of languages and accents. On the field I frequently hear Italian, Spanish, German, Swiss and of course French. This Tower of Babel context suits me fine.

I am fond of foreign languages and eager to learn, but even though I don’t use French as often as I would like, I remain highly partial to my roots. Quality French is celestial music to my ears.

« Pour tout homme de coeur, le culte qu’il a voue a sa langue maternelle est une chose sacrée. » Georges Isidore Barthe

“For every noble-hearted man, the worship that he has devoted to his mother tongue is a sacred thing!”

Alain

Many people have been wondering why usually assertive Donald Trump has been so subdued and deferential towards Vladimir Putin.

Well my friends, I have my own pet theory about this. As the French say, “cherchez la femme”… seek the woman. When there are shenanigans somewhere, start by looking for the woman…
I might get in trouble for saying that, but I am merely repeating what Alexandre Dumas said a long time ago.

“I do think Russian foreign policy is very savvy. There’s a need for great caution because the Russians are able to discreetly blackmail countries.” Vaclav Havel

The Russians are masters of blackmail, the practice of threatening to reveal compromising information about a certain person.
It is an integral part of their arsenal of dirty tricks. In French blackmail is called “chantage” from the verb “chanter” (to sing). Through chantage, you can coerce anybody to “sing” by threatening to reveal his/her dirty secrets.

The classic Russian ploy is to use a “femme” operative to seduce a gullible diplomat or businessman, and have the entire episode filmed by accomplices. The victim is then blackmailed into cooperating.

How was your trip to Moscow? asked the diplomat’s wife.
Well, my dear, there was a lot of activity often ending in all-nighters.
You bet!

“Blackmail is more effective than bribery.” John le Carre

I agree with you John!

Many people still probably remember the Profumo Affair.

In 1961, John Profumo the Secretary of State for War for Great Britain had a brief relationship with Christine Keeler a 19-year-old would-be model. Then it came to light that Keeler may have been simultaneously involved with Captain Yevgeny Ivanov, a (spying) Soviet naval attaché.
As a result, adios Mr. Profumo.
Well done Yevgeny!

Finally, our president has so many femmes to hide, that it makes him the perfect Manchurian candidate for шантаж (chantage).

Vladimir is toying with him and pulling all the strings. Ever noticed his smirky smile?

Question of the day

How will our Master Deal Maker get out of this quagmire?

Alain

To be continued…

I always thought that to be proficient in any discipline, you needed to start at a very early age. It turns up that it is not necessarily so.

Some people have been playing golf or tennis for a very long time and they are still hacks. The same goes for pétanque.

It is not the number of hours or years spent on the field that counts, but your natural ability. Innate talent does not need to wait for eons to blossom. You have the “right stuff” or you don’t, and no amount of practice is going to change that.

In the game of pétanque, women can be extremely good at “pointing.” And needless to say that to be successful a team absolutely needs to retain the services of a good pointer.

I know such a person. She started playing relatively late, and she surprisingly became proficient in a fairly short time. This has not gone unnoticed in pétanque circles, and when there are mixed tournament she is very much in demand.
I think that she should parley her pointing skills into more substantial perks.

This individual was born in an unlikely place to play the game. She popped up into the world in a snow-blanketed place called St Petersburg. Few people play pétanque there even though it is not totally uncommon.

“Crossing the Neva, you’ll arrive at the Field of Mars – 22 acres of green lawns in the center of St. Petersburg. Just like its Parisian twin, a vast green lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Field of Mars in St. Petersburg once served as a square for military parades and now it’s a recreational space. On a fine summer day, you can join a group of pétanque players, or simply bask in the sun. And if it’s raining, which is more common for St. Petersburg, you should probably move on to the next route.”

When she came to America, this woman barely spoke English, didn’t know how to drive a car, never tasted escargots or frog legs, and never heard of petanque.
I would say that she was as sophisticated  as a “deplorable.” But she was also a diamond in the rough.

Luckily she met me… and as they say in Hollywood, the rest is history.
She is now one the best pointing dynamo in the club and she is eagerly sought for tournaments.

Her name, by the way, is Tamara Semionovna Efron, and she is my wife. She has brought home more trophies than I care to remember and (confidentially) I find this intolerable.
But facts are facts and I have to accept it.

One more thing…

I would like to reiterate before concluding that “there is absolutely no collusion” between Tamara and Vladimir Putin. If you hear otherwise, it is fake news.

до свидания (das vidania) my friends!

Alain