Saturday, May 21, 2011

Day 91

Julia Childs is my home girl:  How I lost my sanity at the DMV.


Schizophrenic.  If I were to describe the day with just one word, that would be it.  The morning would be spent in queue at the Prefecture in an attempt to finalize the paperwork for the eldests trip to Pays de Galles.  This was truly administrative hell.  The line moved with all the urgency of a dead snail and seemed to snake its way out of the building, down the street, and then across eastern europe finding us waiting somewhere around the Lithuanian border.  Much like the DMV, the process was slow and painful with no end in sight. "Number 23 please . . . NEXT!"  My number?  7,239,642.  Finally we would have our moment in the sun and approached the window with high hopes.  High hopes that were soon smashed against the rocks in a cataclysmic administrative tsunami that we will not soon find our way free from.  With business not nearly conducted, we left the scene battered and bruised, but able to fight another day.  And yes, another day will in fact be required to complete this task.

After the blood letting at the Prefecture, we had to drop off one kid and pick up the other.  Back at home, we  busied ourselves for the afternoon with domestic affairs until the youngest decided it was time to find a family doctor.  Upon waking from his afternoon nap, what started as a runny nose turned into a full blown ear infection that had him unsettled to a level we had yet to experience.  A quick run to the pharmacy soon gave way to a quick run to the doctors office for a check up and prescription medications for the ear infection and apparent case of allergies.  Once again, the French health care system would dazzle us with its efficiency and cost effectiveness.  Inside of an hour we had visited the doctor and and the pharmacy twice having only spent what one would expect to spend for an evening at the movies.  Simply amazing.  The youngest was somewhat less impressed in that the medications are administered in such a dose that they must be forced down his gullet with what appears to be a turkey baster.

The extra efforts for the day put a bit of pressure on our dinner plans.  I have now taken the initiative to become the family Chef.  Thus far, things have gone quite well.  A wonderful vegetarian burrito was so successful, that I had decided that this evening we would get a bit more complex with a pork tenderloin in an amazing orange glaze.  It was quite good despite my children's rejection of the dish.  We decided to call it an early evening since the morning would require yet another social outing with some visitors from my wife's place of employment.  Since these folks were imports from the States and we have become the unofficial social coordinators for such visitors, we were obliged to join the morning's scheduled activities.  They are all wonderful people, so I can hardly call it a drag.  It doesn't take much arm twisting to leave the young one's at home and knock back a glass or two of the local red in the name of enhancing business relations.

That about sums up the day except for the musical selection.  I have come under recent criticism for not being terribly diverse in my musical tastes.  This is NOT the case, I can assure you.  I have simply been enjoying the acoustic nature of the new folk movement as I attempt to drown out the noise of the city, but it is just the most recent flavor that I have been sampling.  I enjoy all varieties of music . . . except for Opera.  I don't like Opera.  Beyond that, there are no limits.  That being said, today I am going to post a couple of more diverse selections for your listening pleasure.  The first is from a band based out of NOLA by the name of Galactic.  In case you were wondering, this is a band routed firmly in the Rap scene.  For those of you that object to this  genre, please give this a chance.  Their albums are amazing and can't be painted into a corner.  If you are into classifying things, I would guess you could call it a fusion of Rap and New Orleans Funk.  The second is one of my personal favorites in the Country genre . . . Hank III.  With the voice and hauntingly familiar facial features of his granddaddy and the lyrical sensibilities of his pappy, he is truly a joy to listen to.  Since I also have a love for the Man in Black, I am posting Hank Jr Jr's version of Cocaine Blues.  Again, I encourage you to check out some of the rest of his work.  You will not be disappointed.  Tread carefully though, because the duality of his personality will lead you to a side project called AssJack and a second career as a hard rock pioneer.  Enjoy them both and we will talk to you tomorrow.


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