Au Cochonnet Marin

 

“Girls have got balls. They’re just a little higher up, that’s all.” ― Joan Jett

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The world of entertainment is extremely fond of award ceremonies. The last time I checked I counted 24 of them. Twenty-four a year, in America only. And I am not including Cannes, La Mostra di Venezia, the Nika Award and whatever is happening in Latin America.
That comes if I am not mistaken to about one ceremony every 15 days.

With awards hanging from just about every tree in Hollywood, if an actor doesn’t manage to snare a trophy within 2 or 3 years of his career, he/she better quit the business. He is not good enough or not whorish enough.

Each award ceremony showcases so-called “beautiful people” who all try to outdo each other.
During the awards presentation, men are now soulfully kissing each other and women… women are showing their boobs. Even if you are nobody, a good boob display (even a side boob view) will nevertheless put you in the limelight.
Each ceremony has essentially become a glorified Booborama.

I have nothing against breasts mind you and I am rather fond of them but it is the girls’ look of contrived innocence that bothers me.
My boobs are sticking out? Oh I didn’t notice…
You didn’t notice? With no bra and a blouse open to the navel?

I know that we are not supposed to stare, but what can you do when these things are poking you in the eye? Staring at a woman’s breasts, Seinfeld once said, “…is like looking at the sun. You’re supposed to just take one peek and then look away!”

But boobs, due to their wicked aura, still fascinate and the ingénues know it. It is undeniable that they are using their feminine wiles to attract attention.
But they have to be careful: not all boobs are born equal; if they are not up to snuff catty critics will suggest to keep those “assets” in their holster.

I might be speaking out of jealousy… Men cannot pull off such derring-do deeds. I don’t think that they could show up on the podium with an open shirt revealing a hairy chest, or going panty less…
Well you never know… Thinking about it, I suspect that many men go commando with just a thin layer of material protecting the public.

The purpose of showbiz is to captivate, and as long as society frowns on bare breasts, nymphets will do their wicked best to direct your stare to a hazardous area that might induce temporary blindness.

Alain 

“I’m in showbiz. I look at my boobs like they’re show horses or show dogs. You’ve got to keep them groomed.” Dolly Parton

“There can be little liking where there is no likeness.” Aesop

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Have you ever heard the French expression « Avoir les atomes crochus »?
It could be loosely translated as, “to have hooked atoms” (to have a lot in common with somebody).

Well, it seems that my own atoms don’t easily hook with somebody else’s molecules.
I like animals. Furry or feathery, I like them all and I am pretty sure that they like me as well. We seem to have an affinity, a spontaneous, natural liking for each other.

The same mutual affection does not seem to equally apply to people. While I almost universally fancy horses, cows, pigs, cats, dogs, chickens, ducks, etc. I find myself far pickier when it comes to humans.

We often feel sympathy for someone because of shared characteristics such as language, culture, religion, politics, sports, cuisine, a wicked sense of humor. Before committing myself I need to sense that we share some common experiences. If this link is missing, it makes a relationship much more knottier.

“I generally find an affinity with a lot of the people I play and I suppose if I didn’t feel an affinity for them then they wouldn’t be particularly good performances.” Hugo Weaving

 I agree. If I am paired with someone for a tournament, and if I feel that we are not on the same wavelength, I won’t play my best game. Similarly, if I feel a lack of cordiality on the other side I won’t play well either. I think that I am we are at our best when we perform in a friendly environment.

Men often get along with men better than they fare with women, and vice versa. It is expected; they have more in common.
Couples very often (besides sexual attraction) don’t have anything in common and this type of relationship is doomed from the beginning.

With all the goodwill in the world, I couldn’t become closely acquainted with a person who sits on the floor, eats with his hands, speaks some foreign dialect and refers to God every three minutes. Sorry about that !
My atoms don’t like to be pushed around. In order to hook with yours, they need to feel some commonality.

If you could stop mispronouncing “déjà vu”, randomly pet dogs in the street and like oysters, “I think that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.“

Alain ?

 

Confounding the doubters, the April 9 picnic (Sausages & Lentils) long held hostage by a capricious weather, finally came to fruition.

On Saturday morning, like a mercurial diva given to unpredictable changes, Mother Nature wavered between short blue skies and hard spring showers.

This constant dithering made it very difficult for the club organizers to reach the right decision. To cancel or not to cancel the event, that was the question.
And like Ike on D-Day LPM president Christine Cragg hoped and prayed for a break in the weather. With troops massed in coastal harbors, and a large supply of food on hand, Christine cast her fate to the wind and finally resolved to go ahead.

She knew that in case of failure she would be blamed, and like Ike she kept a second message in her back pocket that read:

“Our landings in the Marin County area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”

On Sunday though, the weather held steady and the operation Sausages & Lentils was on. Unfortunately the playing field remained spongy, mushy, saturated, waterlogged, mucky, muddy, swampy… pick your term, and highly unpredictable.

Despite the adverse conditions seen on Saturday (as shown in the first pictures of my album) hardcore players decided to compete and came from all over the Bay Area. We were particularly glad to welcome (for the first time in Marin I believe) Marc Poinsignon & Co. the infamous Peninsula Pétanque gang.
Part of the celebration was also Alain Briant who with Marc, is my old partner in crime.

We were glad to see Clea Messiani and Paul Tucker from San Francisco.

Twenty-two (22) doublettes lined up for the tournament and there were:

1. J-C Etallaz & Heidi Rytter 2.Marc Di Maio & Liliane Sebban 3.Doug Colville & Noah Sonet 4.Gilbert & Wyatt 5.Louis-Jean Marsaa & Minette Etallaz 6.Mark Shirkey & Sandra Shirkey 7.Maurice S. & Sandra S. 8.J-Michel Poulnot & Rich Mendoza 9.Eric Thiebault & Eva Lofaro 10.Michel Rattaire & Suzanne 11.Evan Falcone & Bernard Rattaire 12.Albert Woodbury & Tamara Efron 13.Bernard Passemar & Kathy 14.Les Stone & Clea Messiani 15.Joe La Torre & Nancy Jencks 16.Gustave Foucher & Larry Cragg 17.Jacques Rattaire & Liza Moran 18.Alain Briant & Teri Thiebault 19.David Lindsay & Mark P. 20.Noel Marcovecchio & J-C Etallaz 21.Brigitte Moran & Christina 22.Alain Efron & Mireille Di Maio

The weather was OK but on the frigid side. The smart players wore layers of clothes and peeled them off as the temperature slowly rose. A great salute by the way to Verena Rytter and Liv Kraft for keeping scores in a less than comfortable situation.

The lunch was prepared by Mattei Inc. (Sabine and Roger Mattei) and it was very good. And eating outdoors among friends always makes it doubly pleasurable. Than you Roger, Sabine… and my good pal César.
In my book, canines are always welcome.

Four games were played after lunch.
As I previously mentioned it, the spongy field made games unusually difficult. It was basically a game of “plombés” and “au fer” shots. And “plombés” had to be accurate, for the boule would hit the ground and buried itself in the place it landed.
When it came to shooting, the only option was “au fer”. If you shot “a la raspaille” your boule would roll and bounce over the target.

A few times during the tournament Michel Rattaire (a very good player by the way) would take his faithful “clairon” (bugle) and sound “reveille”. Everybody (especially me) loved it. We need to steal this guy and retain him on a permanent basis.

At the end of the day, the top dogs were:

1^st place: Jean-Michel (Le Facteur) and Rich Mendoza
2^nd place: Doug Colville & Noah Sonet
3^rd place: Marc Di Maio & Liliane Sebban

Alain

Your comments are welcome.

PS: To look at photos of this event and listen to the accompanying music, turn your computer’s sound on and click on the link “My Photos” located on the right side of the home page. For best viewing, go “Full Screen”.