LETTER FROM PARIS #17 - just a fad? - and more

How long has it been since those cute little aluminum scooters with the very small wheels were all the rage? I remember my grandsons having them, and unless my memory is totally corroded, it was at least ten years ago. I don’t spend a lot of time around local schoolyards, so I have no idea if there are kids still using them. My immediate sense is that they were long ago replaced by skate boards. But, skate boards are noisy and you can do tricks like trying to kill yourself riding along a railing.

I know they’re still being used because, flouting the local law (or at least the condominium law) I hear the unmistakable sounds of them being ridden on the tile plaza in front of our building.

Gone? I thought so. But in Paris they are ubiquitous. Every kid, even the smallest, seems to have one. Adults have them. I see ordinarily dignified young matrons tearing along the sidewalk in them. They are a lot more people-friendly than the skate boards, which seem to part of juvenile mayhem. I know, I’m idealizing, because the kids in Paris are probably no different from the kids in Toronto or Timmins or Calgary. If you have kids or know kids who are still using those scooters, I’d enjoy knowing.

Now, at the risk of bottoming out again with my reflections on tourists – an observation from the sidewalk in front of the restaurant “Petit Chatelet” which is on the quay across from Notre Dame. It has no stars, Michelin or otherwise. What it does have though. Is a menu that seems to scare off potential customers? I do it. Everyone does it. We scan menu in front of restaurants. We pretend that we are checking out the selection. In fact, most of us are checking the prices, often turning away looking for greener (or less green in another sense) fields.

Perhaps the prime visitor destination is the area around Notre Dame and the beginning of Boulevard St. Michel. There are huge restaurants, most of them designed for people-watching. The word “brasserie” seems to be the most attractive. (I always wonder how many people know that “brasserie” means brewery.) The food is usually acceptable and the prices are, by Paris standards, pretty acceptable.

The night before, we went to a heart-stopping performance Chopin. Tonight it was to be Beethoven and Chopin by the same young pianist Jean-Christopher Millot, We stopped for dinner. Everything was jammed, except for Le Petit Chatelet. It seems to be deserted. There were a few people inside and no one on the sidewalk. It was raining, but there was plenty of shelter under a spacious awning. Because part of the pleasure (as with any sidewalk eatery) is people-watching, we sat outside. Our host was a charming man who seemed to be enthusiastic about every choice we made – from the wine, a quite surprisingly good Bordeaux, to the plats, a filet for me and veal for Shirley. I asked if the steak came with frites. He tried not to seem offended when he said “No, only Dauphinoise.” (And one other which I don’t remember.) Both our meals, although they were not Michelin star-worthy, we really very good. But the interesting part was to watch the travelers (notice the avoidance of the other “T” word?”) look behind us and check out the menu, mutter to each other, and depart. I suspect it had to do with the prices, a little bit higher than the crowded brasserie down the street.

I have a travel axiom: if you visit a place that is a “hot” destination – don’t expect bargains. Don’t; plan a trip to Paris (or New York) unless you are prepared to spend money. Besides, it always ruins a vacation where you have spent thousands already paying for air fare and hotel, to start skimping on dinner.

In fact, the entire meal, including the bottle of wine, came to just over 100 Euro. Remember, the price is “service compris” so whatever you add is a nominal amount and only if the service has been especially good. In Paris we find that service is unpredictable. In this case it was quick and cordial. Just yesterday we stopped for brunch at a large café in our arrondissment, called:"Indiana" (is it to make Americans feel at home?) After 15 minutes of being ignored, we went next door to "Del Papa" and had a splendid Italian lunch with impeccable service.

Shirley and I remember George S. Kaufman, whose impatience with waiters was; legendary. (How wonderful those round table get-togethers at the Algonquin must have been – with Kaufman, Benchley, Parker and all the rest of those literary heroes.) I remember Kaufman’s famous obituary for a waiter. On the tombstone was, according to Kaufman, an inscription that read “God finally caught his eye.”

The best was yet to come. Our newfound friend concert; producer Bernard Carrier had
Invited us to be his guests at a concert the preceding night. It was so good we came back again (paying this time) for another wonderful evening with Jean Christophe Millot.

Because I do love music, and love, musicians even more, I was delighted to have a chance to chat with Jean Christophe. Apologizing for my lack of words and hoping I could make myself understood, I gave him my reactions. Because he speaks virtually no English, I had to use French, which is difficult if you want to get into the more abstract. I struggled. He understood. I said (in French) “Last knight was marvelous. Tonight was even better.” He nodded appreciatively. There was no sense that I had appointed myself critic and was making gratuitous comments. “Tonight you were much more confident. Your technique was smooth. You treated Beethoven like the romantic that he was. You; played the three sonatas as if they had been written by, or at least played by Mendelssohn.’ He smiled and bobbed hi head up and down. He told me I was exactly right. He knew it. He knew that he was very tired from traveling the previous night. There was no sense that this young man was at all offended. He may have known that I was standing in the front row calling out “Bravo.”

This week, although I am not usually a big fan of vocal music, we go a concert entitled “Pavarotti.” A young tenor will sing many of the master’s famous arias. After the concert we will take Bernard for dinner and have more conversation about music,

The secret reason is that I have been hunting everywhere for a; place to practice that is close to where we stay. A virtuoso I am not, but when you pay for weekly lessons, it is foolish to allow yourself to get rusty. I am “rusty” enough as it is.