As if that does not sound bad enough, the weather forced Franklin, who was nearly covered in boils thanks to the terrible diet, to sit on his ship for four days looking at the French coast that was unreachable because of the waves.
Franklin, who was traveling to
could defeat the British, finally made it to land after four days, according to "A Great Improvisation,"
a book about
My journey to
I was reminded of
The highlight of Day One here was looking at an apartment which seems to be a lock. I may move in as
early as Monday or Tuesday if everything goes according to plan. It is not stretch, according to everyone I talk to, to compare this quick move to hitting a hole-in-one on the first golf hole you ever
play.
The guy who showed me the apartment, Peter, is a graduate of the American Graduate School of
International Relations and Diplomacy. I think Ol' Pete, a native of
utopia gone terribly wrong.
What aroused my suspicions as we sat in the apartment's living room was not his 10 minute rant
about dog poop between cars or the 20 minute rant about how the French are communists with no respect
for customer service. No, the tipping point was Pete confessing that he sometimes imagines taking his two-foot-long loaf of bread and beating it over the head of a random French person walking down the
sidewalk. I am not making this up.
"I wouldn't hurt him," Pete explained as I nodded my sympathetically while also scoping out the escape
route. "I just wonder what the expression on his face would be."
But don't get the wrong impression, Pete was nicest American I met yesterday afternoon. As if to make up
for his colorful bread-as-a-weapon diatribe, Pete followed up with a tale about how a French guy was
beating up his girlfriend on the sidewalk while a crowd of French people just watched. Pete, who was
watching this from his apartment window, raced downstairs and separated the lovers. He didn't mention
if he used bread to save the day. I like to think he did.
I was supposed to meet Pete and his French girlfriend for drinks last night, but I instead took a rain check
and went to bed around 8 p.m., thinking I would start today with a clear head after plenty of rest.
I did wake up refreshed and wide awake, about two hours later. Jet lag's a bitch.
So I ended up reading until about 4 a.m. before waking at around 8 this morning. If it wasn't for that late
night reading you would never have known all that interesting stuff about Ben Franklin coming to
(This will be the second time I've read the book. I thought it might be fitting to read it again given my
new surroundings.)
My plan for today is a loose one. I'm writing this from an Internet cafe in the shadow of the Sorbonne,
which has been center stage for the riots and protests during the past few days and nights by lazy French
students and the like who are pissed off by a new labor law being proposed.
There is supposed to be another large protest today, so I thought I would check that out. I have no plans to burn any cars or loot any wine and cheese shops like the brats of all ages have been doing the past
few nights.
And I have my camera with me, so I'll be sure to include some pictures in a future email of actual
French people being rude to other French people if I can get that on film.
Work wise, it is looking like I will start Tuesday afternoon with some refresher training on the computer
system at the paper before getting down to business with some copy editing and headline writing.
I hope this email finds you all in good spirits and well rested after the weekend.
Take care,
Brett
