Au Cochonnet Marin

Speaking a foreign language has always been a valuable asset. It expands your worldview—and occasionally lets you pick up things you weren’t exactly meant to understand… like hot stock tips muttered at a bar or whispered military secrets over a crackling walkie-talkie.

Today, English reigns supreme, with roughly 1.52 billion people around the globe speaking it. It’s the go-to language for business, science, technology, diplomacy, and for asking rather urgently where the nearest restroom is.

In fact, no matter where you land on the planet, chances are someone will speak some form of English. It may not be good English, but who cares if it gets you a sandwich and a toilet?

Now, there’s a delightful flip side to all this linguistic unity: sometimes, not understanding one another has its perks. As the old French saying goes:
« Toute vérité n’est pas toujours bonne à dire. »
Not all truths are always good to tell.
Especially when those truths might trigger an international incident—or a marital meltdown.

You see, diplomacy often lies in the artful omission. You don’t have to lie; you can just pretend you didn’t catch what your wife said in the heat of the moment. “Sorry, dear, must’ve been the static on your tone.”

It’s a tactic. A survival tactic.

Interestingly, the U.S. divorce rate—still hovering between 40% and 50% for first marriages—has been gently declining. Coincidence? Or could it be that couples now bond across linguistic lines and just can’t argue properly?

Consider this: a Danish man marries a Filipina woman. Neither speaks the other’s language, but they both know just enough English to order food, ask for directions, and say, “I’m fine” through clenched teeth.

Their entire relationship floats on the limited vocabulary of global English. Misunderstandings are inevitable, but luckily, they remain largely… incomprehensible. And that, my friends, is what keeps the peace.

One of the greatest perks of this international arrangement? You can vent endlessly to your friends in your native tongue about your spouse without sparking a nuclear conflict at home. You might blow off steam, but no one gets blown up.

So let us embrace a common language for peace and harmony—and leave war to those who still barely communicate by smoke signals.

Alain

« Que sont mes amis devenus
Que j’avais de si près tenus
Et tant aimés
Ils ont été trop clairsemés
Je crois le vent les a ôtés… »

“What has become of my friends
Whom I held so close
And loved so much
They have been too few and far between
I think the wind has taken them away…”

Recently, feeling a bit weary, I picked up the phone and called a friend, inviting him to lunch.
“Sorry,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now. Maybe another time…”

No worries, I thought. I know plenty of people who’d be happy to chew the fat with me. So, undeterred, I made a few more calls.
Same story—different excuses: too busy, too far, not feeling great, on a diet, not in the mood, or just missing in action.

And then it hit me: we’re on a very slippery slope when we start refusing human contact.
Schmoozing—yes, simple, aimless conversation—is what keeps us connected. Break that link, and we begin to drift… emotionally, mentally, even physically. Without companionship, the risk of loneliness, depression, and worse creeps in.

A cup of coffee costs far less than a session with a shrink—and can be just as effective at lifting the blues. And here’s the magic: it works both ways. Helping a friend feels good. That little dose of kindness is contagious—just like germs, only much nicer. When you support someone, you’re helping yourself too.

Over the years, I’ve had a few close friends. But time, distance, health—or just the randomness of life—got in the way, and I lost touch with some. I regret that.

So, if you have friends, nurture your friendships. Don’t let them wither and fade. Life means very little if you don’t have someone to share a laugh with or to chase the blues away.

“Life is nothing without friendship.” — Marcus Tullius Cicero

Alain

Friends, Romans, Millionaires—lend me your ears!
I come here to bury our former president, not to praise him.

In 2026, I intend to run for President of the LPM Pétanque Club (among other things) and usher out the radicals who’ve turned our peaceful terrain into a battlefield of boules and bravado.

I stand before you with only one mission: to make our club great again. From now on, no more wasting club funds on mystery expenses, no more rampant disorganization, no more corruption.

I want to know where every penny goes each time it is spent, and especially on frivolous expenses like Medicare care and Social Security.

Everybody is ripping us off, and I intend to put an end to that. I will tax everything coming to this country, unless they give us a fair good deal. I want every manufacturing job to come back to the US, so that our citizens can enjoy the high-paying jobs they deserve! Yes, there might be some growing pains during this period, but I promise you that it will be only temporary. Maybe ten to twenty years of hardship at most, not more. Guaranteed!

I am running to make our club great again, and to end the waste of money and the ineptitude that is flagrant in the present administration.  I want to stop the influx of illegal players who have snuck into our country and stolen trophies from our hard-working citizens. They are rapists and criminals, and I intend to send them back where they came crawled from… or anywhere else.

Let me be clear. I will be firm but fair. My administration will hire only the best, regardless of political beliefs, and as long as they pledge a loyalty oath to me, to the club, to pétanque, and to our sacred cause (which I’ll announce later).

As for defense, our club is already a powerhouse. We’ve got the best players, the fiercest throwers, and the sharpest aim in the Western Hemisphere. If Greenland (a poor, bare country) needs us, we are willing to help extinguish the volcanoes’ braziers that are devastating your beautiful country. We will do this as a fair deal. One club, one citizenship, one country!

Our club needs money, and I intend to do some serious fundraising to remedy that problem. Fundraising is my specialty. Millionaires are welcome to our ranks, and I promise you that there won’t be any discrimination if you approve of my policies. And I will lead by example. Don’t be afraid to make money. It is good for everybody, it is healthy, and I will show you how it is done. Making money is not a sin—it’s a pétanque tradition!

To boost morale and club spirit, I will also promote pompom squads, American flags, and a rousing rendition of the national anthem before every tournament. That’s right—pompoms, anthems, the works. We’ll turn pétanque into the most profitable sport in the world. And I already acquired the rights to the best boules ever made. They will be made in America, and it will benefit the American iron and steel industry and contribute mightily to our national recovery.

So vote for me—and you, too, can experience the thrill of supporting an ambitious, unapologetically enthusiastic, money-loving enthusiast who just might take pétanque to the stars.

Alain