Is Macron's bromance with François Bayrou dead?

Perhaps Macron, the Pure (and Innocent?) is waking up to the world of Realpolitik.

France has fought 3 wars against the Germans and yet his first foreign visit is to Merkel; following in the footsteps of Holland and Sarkozy. Why not wait a decent interval, or let her come and do the courting, after all he is not averse to older women?

So the business with Bayrou is nothing but a storm in a teacup, played up by journalists on the watch for any story of doom.

As the United Kingdom is indeed heading to its own destiny, probably at the bottom of the ocean blue, having chosen the lesser of two evils, being caught between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

So also France is heading into the Great Unknown, led by an untested youth, (at least in the eyes of someone born before the war (2^nd World War) and was stationed in Berlin before the wall was put up let alone before it was torn down.

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Old news perhaps but a useful reminder of where we are today.

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Fillon fights on despite mounting scandals

Chivalry no longer exists in young boys in France.

The  other day I was walking through a small deserted park with my 7 year old grandson when we heard some child calling out for help.

We looked around but couldn’t see any toddler in difficulty but finally noticed a young girl of about 11 or 12 up in one of those wooden contraptions they build for kids nowadays. Rope type ladders to climb up and then poles to slide down with a wooden house type thing at the top.

This girl was in a state and steadily getting worse. She was stuck out holding onto a pole but was afraid to swing onto it and couldn’t get back on to the platform. Panic had taken hold of her.

I asked her what the trouble was and she wanted her mother who wasn’t around; in fact nobody was around.

I asked my grandson what we should do. A shrug of the shoulders and a remark to the effect of leaving her stuck up there and that we should continue on our way. I don’t think he is particularly callous, probably just not interested in the fate of strange girls. After all a boy would never get himself in such an embarrassing situation.

So I had to climb up the rope lattice work, age limit 8, hoping it would not break my age being 78, and help the girl down.

Obviously in this age of equality chivalry is doubtless considered a macho characteristic and is not taught in school. 

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The two aspects of France somehow living side by side.

I went to see my cardiologist this morning for my annual check up. I had made my appointment a year ago at the end of my last check up. Short of collapsing in the street with a heart attack one is advised to fix the date a year in advance.

A very pleasant woman, she asked if I minded an intern being present. A young girl who didn’t look much out of her teens.

I forgot about the hour and a half in the waiting room. Whilst I was there I noticed the other five people present; two other men and three women. I also noted that all of the men were wearing highly polished proper shoes. The women were also wearing good quality shoes. I’m so used to seeing people wearing “des baskets” on their feet it was a pleasant surprise. I've even seen people wearing "des baskets' to funerals. I think they used to be called ‘plimsols’ when I was at school. I doubt that anyone born after the war knows what that means. We wore them for gymnastics. I imagine there is quite a decent class of people at my cardiologists, albeit of a certain age.

In the mean time the world goes on in France. For French politics I think we may now apply an American word. MAD. Mad as in a “Mad Hatter” but also in the American sense of Mutually Assured Destruction. That's where all the parties are headed. Well perhaps one will survive and that will really mean the destruction of the 5th Republic if nothing else.

A case of police brutality at a politically sensitive time leading to the usual riots in the down and out suburban immigrant estates.

An explosion at a nuclear plant this morning, which even if not nuclear will open a whole knew kettle of fish. I woder what the English living near Hinkley Point will think about it. One shouldn't have to worry about such things in rural Somerset.

No wonder it takes so long to get an appointment with a heart specialist.

'It never rains but it pours' for François Fillon

EUROPEAN NATIONALITY? Now what might that be?

EUROPEAN NATIONALITY

I heard something strange on TV some years ago. It was about a legal process concerning Disney land Paris. They had been taken to court by an organization called SOS Racism which promotes equal rights.

Evidently Disneyland had put out an ad a few years ago looking for new employees. In the ad they required the candidates to be of European Nationality.

Allowing for misunderstandings in translation I hope that meant of a European nationality and not European nationality. Apart from the fact I’ve never heard of such a nationality I would not accept its existence. It would mean a European State.

Now it is quite normal that they would require candidates to be European. One would hope they do not seek to employ non Europeans inside Europe. Illegal immigrants perhaps?

Now why would that be racist? What has race got to do with nationality? I am British (Nationality). I live in France where the citizens have French nationality.

Now if the ad had stated “of a European race”, once one had been able to decipher what that was it might have showed discrimination against other races. I mean one could say Caucasian. Of course the Caucasus is not in Europe and therefore Caucasians are not of European nationality although they might be of the same race as many Europeans.

I am English, or Irish or Scots or whatever. Not Welsh though. Now are those races or nationalities. British is a nationality. It is the only word that binds all the peoples of the British Isles together. That is when they’re not fighting each other or playing rugby.

Is there a French race or is the word Gallic? I always call them a Gallic people living in France, although most seem to come from Africa these days. Maybe I’m not allowed to say that.

In any case I am not at all racist. I am sometimes nationalistic, particularly when watching rugby. I do think though it would be illegal for Disneyland to employ anyone not of a European nationality so I think SOS Racism is barking up the wrong tree. But maybe I’m not allowed to say that either. That might cast some doubt on the species of its members which might or not be considered as racism.

Population studies: France's 'ethnicity' taboo

A wet Sunday morning in France. Bonjour tristesse.

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

The above should be taught to French children in kindergarten.

Indeed it should be carved in marble above the entrance to the

École nationale d'administration.

One could feel sorry for the French rugby  team after a well played match at Twickenham, indeed one felt the English left a lot to be desired throughout most of the game. But all’s well that ends well as the English might say.

Politicians of course, should remeber it, thick skinned though they are. As an example I rather feel that  Blair is so thick skinned that that is all he has between both ears.

Fillon could well remember this.

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,

Oh well, politicians come and go and nothing really changes.

All that’s really left now is the Joker. Doubtless he’ll spring us a surprise or two before the day is done.

In the mean time, the rest of us poor mortals must figure out what to cook for the next meal, how to balance the household budget and what to do about those aches and pains that beset the rest of mankind. 

My Old Basque Beret

I first arrived in Orléans in 1976 after the fall of Saigon where I had been living. In those days there were very few foreigners here. When I went out walking, which I did a lot, people would look at me in a strange manner. Was it the way I carried my furled umbrella? Or that I wore a hat? After all how can one speak to a lady in the street if one doesn’t have a hat to raise.

When I was a young boy of about twelve or thirteen I met my mother down town one day. She was with a girl of about my own age. Probably the daughter of one of her friends. This was a place called Sutton, Surrey, in England. I was of course wearing my school blazer and cap. Shorts as well as I had not yet progressed to long trousers. I didn’t raise my cap to the girl so my mother told me to do so. I replied that she was only a girl and my mother said a gentleman always raises his hat to a lady no matter what her age.

I have always kept the habit although if I am wearing a soft cap I tend to give a salute if the lady is far away and I don’t get to say hello. I also do so for men that I meet. My old trilby is now more than fifty five years old. It still serves for funerals or if I’m wearing a suit to go to Paris.

Actually quite a lot of men wear hats in Orléans nowadays. I feel though that this is mostly related to the weather or a passing fashion. When it’s very cold or very hot the winter or summer hats come out. One can always tell a man who has seldom worn a hat. There are very few berets now. If I wear a hat to Paris I look very provincial as nobody seems to wear them there. When I take the Eurostar to London and arrive wearing a hat I must be mistaken for an Australian from the outback as absolutely nobody wears them at all there.

When I was young at school, perhaps about seventeen, I had an old basque beret which I wore on cycling holidays in France. It then followed me to the Bahamas and Vietnam. I must have lost it in Vietnam or the heat or bugs or rats got it. I was very attached to my old basque beret and rather regret not having got another when I first arrived in France in 1976. But then again people might have thought I was an Englishman pretending to be a Frenchman which would not have done at all.

The great shame of course is that the French themselves do not wear berets. There are moments when I feel they are no longer trying to be French. Of course this does not apply in moments of great joy or collective depression whilst following the fortunes of their national football team. Then nobody could mistake them for anything else.

France is much more than a collection of politicians

Fillon's Faltering Bid for the Presidency

Does white represent purity in the sense of a sporting ideal or does it represent elitism?

Does white represent purity in the sense of a sporting ideal or does it represent elitism? White is still worn at Wimbledon as it is in the more respectable matches of cricket. I always maintain that if white is not worn it’s not cricket in any case.

Roland Garros, that high court of French tennis is spoilt by the fact that white is NOT worn. In fact I find the men players for the most part look like long haired unshaven ill dressed hooligans. The women try to outdo each other in the latest top fashion.

The French have told me that white is not democratic, that it smacks of privilege, the bourgeoisie or is just too refined for them. Considering the way advertisers use the players, the cost of the rags they wear I would have said white was the opposite.

Perhaps white upsets their idea of anarchy, of rebellion, of undisciplined liberty. I often see players, male, wearing no shirts. I find it revolting. If nudists wish to frolic around knocking a ball to each other over a net with some sort of net like object at least they are put away out of sight.

I once noticed that Nadal would appear to have been allowed to wear some white garment without sleeves. It looked like some sort of underwear to me. I dislike seeing men’s bared shoulders. Perhaps it appeals to some women but it has no place on the centre court of Wimbledon.

There is such a thing as good taste. The French are really surprising. They lead the world in high fashion or Haute Couture. The women mostly have their hair always done in a most attractive manner. The men’s smart casual manner of dressing is indeed smart whereas English casual or dressing down is not fit for a barbecue let alone the office to say the least.

Why then does any form of dress code on the tennis court so offend them? One could say it is the fashion lobby getting involved. That could be true but it goes deeper than that. School children of course look like badly dressed hooligans. In Orléans one hardly ever sees a pretty well dressed girl these days. Some years ago I remarked in a lecture I was giving to visiting Americans that nowadays Orléans looked like Slobville.

A sign of the times? Perhaps. The dress code would now appear to be polluted. Scruffy is the norm. Perhaps it is a form of High Fashion. Perhaps the clothes cost a fortune. The Haute Couture of Scruffiness. Perhaps I am alone in a wilderness of scruffiness and am the only one not to see the beauty.