Au Cochonnet Marin

Exactly 3 weeks after the rain interrupted our tournament, I am happy to report that yesterday (Sunday, January 31^st) the action finally resumed.

Upon hearing the good news the city of San Francisco immediately went into high gear and adorned its streets and building with flowers and tinsel.
I think that there might even be a parade on Market Street next week to honor the winners of this tournament.

The weather confounded the naysayers. Upon arriving in the Golden Gate Park we were greeted by a cloudless blue sky with absolutely no hint of rain. The climate was pleasant but still a bit chilly.

The field was fairly dry but still very spongy. To be sure to hit his mark, a shooter had to shoot “au fer” (to the iron). Any shot landing a few inches in front of the target would inevitably bounce on the ground and fly over the target.
It happened to me a few times.

The survivors of the previous encounter were as follows:

1. Christine Cragg
2. Alain Efron
3. Tamara Efron
4. Calvert Barron
5. Henry Wessel
6. Claudie Chourré
7. Joss Krauer
8. Paul Kos
9. Jack McKinnon
10. Scott Cole
11. Jean Bogiages
12. Christopher Ferris
13. Michael Martuscello

Missing in action were Noel Marcovecchio, Liv Kraft and Charles Davantes.

A little controversy erupted at the beginning of the tournament. Some people who were not present at the original contest demanded to play. They were rightly rebuffed (in my opinion) by Joss Krauer, the tournament organizer.
The scores from the 2 previous games were kept and despite the fact that some of the original players didn’t show up, no substitute for missing contestants was allowed.

The first game started at 11:00 a.m. and the second game was played after lunch.

My partner (Claudie Chourré) and I lost our first game 6/13. It was mainly due to the fact that I didn’t shoot “au fer”. A spongy field is unforgiving and it took me too long to adapt to the field’s conditions.

My partner for the second game was Calvert Barron. We won our second game by probably becoming more familiar with the field’s peculiarities.

Around two o’clock the tournament was over and the Paniers de Noel were presented to the highest scorers.
It was also the end of an era. After decades at the helm of the club, an emotional Joss Krauer passed the leadership baton to Jack McKinnon.
He is now the new president of La Boule d’Or. Best wishes to him and his club.

As a good omen for the welfare of the club, we had the pleasure to welcome 3 young new players to La Boule d’Or.
I don’t know their names but you cannot miss them. If you look at my pictures, they are the only players walking without a limp.
When you see them (in San Francisco or anywhere else), please make them feel welcome.

The best players of the tournament were:

Shooters:
1^st place: Mike Martuscello
2^nd place: Alain Efron
3^rd place: Henry Wessel

Pointers:
1^st place: Tamara Efron
2^nd place: Christopher Ferris
3^rd place: Calvert Barron

Alain

 

PS: I hope that the results of this tournament will be reported on Mexican TV. They have bar none the best-looking female broadcasters in the Americas.

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

“It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time.”
Tallulah Bankhead  

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You might have possibly noticed that my literary output has shriveled down to a trickle. Lately I have not inked much of anything due to an absorbing preoccupation with an upcoming project. But more about this later…

We humans are creatures of habit. Day in day out we unconsciously observe the same rituals. Personally, I have breakfast, answer my e-mail and peruse the news (in English and in French) on my computer.

This morning for instance I noticed with pleasure that Ludivine (I like that name) made the headlines.
She is only 2 ½ year old, but she finished 7^th out of 165 runners in Alabama half-marathon (13 miles).
Granted she is a bloodhound, but still a good performance. Congrats Ludi!

 

Then I read that nude statues in a Rome museum were covered up in order to avoid hurting the sensibilities of Hassan Rouhani, Iran’s visiting president.
If you ask me, what Iran needs above all are not lucrative contracts with European nations, but a wave of Boobomania to rid their country of its religious straightjacket and its excessive prudery.
Down with the morality police and up with the boobs. Free the nipples!

Then I noticed that in France taxi drivers and air traffic controllers are on strike. Again.
The taxi drivers in particular are very unhappy with Uber that is “stealing” rides from them. They want to keep their lucrative racket to themselves but they are a snotty, ignorant bunch.
Get over it, you idiots. Uber and similar companies are here to stay. They are better organized, more flexible, more courteous, and cheaper than the cabbies.
My advice: if you cannot beat them, join them before you become irrelevant. And with driverless cars around the corner, if I were you, i would definitely consider a drastic career move.

Then this: “Saudi Arabia’s royal family gave Malaysian Prime Minister Najib Razak a $681 million gift, an investigation revealed Tuesday — but officials ruled there was no corruption involved.”
No corruption involved! Beautiful! I like that.

I also took notice that Woody Allen made a deal with Amazon to create a TV series.
Nothing wrong with that, but to my surprise Woody hired that insufferable bimbo Miley Cyrus to be one of the main characters.
We all know that she can twerk and catch flies with her tongue, but can she act? That remains to be seen.

Then I heard through the grapevines that “Les Paniers de Noel“ the world famous coitus interruptus San Francisco tournament is still in limbo.
Everything depends on the good will of the Rain Gods (there are plenty of them) and frankly we have not done much to please them.
We need to sacrifice a virgin or a Tea-Partier to mollify and beg them to momentarily stop the wet stuff to allow us to complete our much-delayed tournament.

After assessing the news, I like to take “un bain de foule”, in other words mix with my fellow mortals. I usually go to a coffee shop and have a cup of java in order to observe the fauna of Marin County. It comes in all shapes and sizes.
I have noticed that lately, women are wearing a lot of leggings as pants.
They might be comfortable, but sometimes they are not flattering.

Excuse my French but if you have an oversized booty, leggings are not for you. They showcase a part of your anatomy that should be kept unnoticed.
But we still live in a (pre-Donald) free country.
Hell, if it feels good, do it. It’s no skin off my nose.

Aloha!

Alain

“Destiny has two ways of crushing us – by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them.”
Henri Frederic Amiel

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 In other words, be careful what you wish for because unbeknownst to most, there are always pesky strings attached.

The latest big story making the news has been the Powerball Lottery with an obscene jackpot of over $1.5 billion. To make sure that I am making myself clear, 1billion = 1,000,000,000,000 (twelve zeros) dollars.

The lucky (?) people whose wishes have been fulfilled might be in for a nasty surprise.

As Roman rhetorician Marcus Fabius Quintilianus said a long time ago: “Nothing is more dangerous to men than a sudden change of fortune.”

The inconspicuous silky strings (five times stronger than steel) hanging from the jackpot might very well ensnare and destroy you.

The most common consequences of winning big jackpots are: loss of friends, divorces, lawsuits, and yes, murder.
And few people are smart enough to escape unscathed the lottery winning curse.

You cannot undo a wish come true, but if you are semi-smart, the first thing to do if you win big is to go underground and scrub your Facebook and all your other social media accounts.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that your vaunted Facebook friends will immediately want to strengthen their friendship with you. And so will the relatives that you have not spoken to since Neil Armstrong landed on the moon.

You should also change your name (it can be done), possibly your face, your phone number, your e-mail address and preferably move to another country. Switzerland might be nice. If you can (discreetly) prove that your are well off, the Swiss won’t quibble.

If you are in a shaky relationship, your winnings will immediately start open warfare.
You might welcome a divorce, but it is going to cost you big time. And you will never be sure that your next paramour will fancy you for your looks or for your cash.

Don’t be a numbskull. If you ever come into money, don’t be a Donald. Be a Whitey Bulger.

Wishing upon a star is a dangerous hobby. If you want to live happily ever after, scale down your wishes (a good meal, a pétanque win, good health) and enjoy the small things that Lady Luck granted you.

Keep in mind that there are always strings attached, even on the 72 virgins.

One last thing… if I personally ever win big at the lottery (extremely unlikely) I have never known any of you.

On second thought, if you happen to come into money, let’s do lunch. I have an extremely interesting proposition for you.

Your pragmatic advisor

Alain aka Iznogoud