I Was a Free Man in Paris

I felt unfettered and alive

Nobody was calling me up for favors

And no one’s future to decide.

You know I’d go back there tomorrow

But for the work I’ve taken on.

Stokin’ the star-maker machinery,

Behind the popular song.

            Joni Mitchell, Free Man in Paris

 

Traversing Paris was a challenge. Not for everyone perhaps, but certainly for us.

Where the hell are we? How do we get there?

Out of St. Germaine de Pres? To the Louvre? Back to la Rue Descartes?

 

I cannot read a map. My sixth grade teacher Mrs. Plante would be utterly disappointed. She taught me volumes about South America but missed the mark on map skills.

And in acknowledgement of those of you who love maps (you know who you are) I argue that they prove to be completely, totally and irretrievably useless if one has no point of reference. This conclusion is based on empirical data proven again and again that in order for a map to be useful, one must first determine where one IS, which is not too difficult given landmarks as big as Notre Dame Cathedral and the Louvre, but even then one must determine in which direction one must move. North, South, East, West are useless if one does not know whether these are left, right, straight ahead or backwards. One must know if one is situated N, S, E, or W of the desired new location. “In order to get there, do we go down the street in this direction, or up the street in that direction?” Is the Seine over there or over there? Trying to use a map in a strange place is like trying to look up a word’s spelling in the dictionary if one doesn’t know how to spell the word. Those of you who would like to defend maps, go right ahead, but you’ll get no acquiescence here.

 

In Paris, My Friend and I took the wrong turn so many times we probably lost one of the two pounds each of us lost on the trip simply in the backtracking. By the end of the trip we would choose a direction to walk by reversing the way we thought we should go, simply because we had been wrong so many times.

 

On our first day in Paris we attempted the bus system. Big mistake. We ended up riding for free the entire day though. As we stepped onto our first bus I attempted to give the driver francs, not knowing that one must purchase a ticket before boarding. As I fumbled with my wallet the driver made a characteristically French gesture (or one characteristic of French bus drivers anyway), which consisted of a disgusted, perfunctory wave towards the back of the bus. We rode to the end of the line and attempted to ask the driver where to get off for our desired location only to be greeted with another wave of the hand, which this time meant, get the hell off my bus. We didn’t even bother trying to offer the next bus driver francs or a ticket for our ride away from the end of the line, at which point he simply shrugged and once again we got, “the wave” pointing us to the back of the bus.

 

Two locations in particular gave us repeated trouble; a district called St. Germaine de Pres” and the Metro station named Cardinal Lemoine. We finally mastered the Metro with a few lessons from my daughter who told her host family that we had been in Paris four days and had not yet ventured underground for fear of never returning, and they laughed! The Champs-Elysees was easy enough. Shoot. With a landmark as big as the Arc deTriomphe even we could traverse the boulevard. While walking along the Champs-Elysees we encountered a trio of gendarmes just hanging around, smoking cigarettes and talking. I asked them to take our picture under one of the street signs. They shook their heads, “non,” and I understood that they certainly could not because they were on duty and were required to be ever diligent. So, as we walked away, I turned the camera on them and took their photo.

 

Every time we emerged from Cardinal Lemoine Metro station (the closest to our apartment), we repeatedly recognized no landmarks, no shops, no corners, nothing, nada, ne riens. Now keep in mind this was the same Metro station from which we emerged repeatedly. It truly was bizarre, as if we made frequent appearances in scenes from “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” or “The Spotless Mind of Eternal Sunshine,” or “The Spotless Sunshine of the Eternal Mind,” whatever that movie is. We would emerge from the depths of the Paris underground and stare once again bewilderingly at our surroundings…pathetic looking, I am sure.  Another day, as we attempted to find our way out of the district of St. Germaine-de-Pres we confidently thought we were heading in the right direction (away from the Seine)  but the walk seemed longer than it should have. My Friend said, “So help me god, if we get to the end of that street and come face to face with the Seine, I’m going to throw myself into the river rather than take one more step.” Guess what was at the end of the street? But we had choices; throw ourselves into the Seine, hail a cab and place our lives in danger by riding with one of those Parisian vehicular maniacs, wait for a bus, or walk some more. We chose the bus, confident now that we had a ticket, purchased the day before. What we didn’t know is that bus tickets in Paris have expiration points so we were surprised when we inserted our tickets and the machine read, “Invalide!” Another disgruntled, disgusted wave from the bus driver and we were on our way, happy to be sitting in a warm bus on a cold day hardly caring where the hell it would take us next.

 

Our last night in Paris we met my daughter for dinner. I brought a big bunch of sunflowers for her (her favorites). We had a lovely dinner and at 10:00 said good-bye in front of the Paris bistro. She had been in Paris for almost three months and I hardly worried about her. I didn’t imagine dangers around every corner. I didn’t fear for her safety. And yet that night as she walked away, her back to me and carrying a large bunch of bright yellow sunflowers, young and confident woman that she was, she was still my child. I resisted the temptation to cry out, “Call me when you get home!” And for the second time that week I whispered a blessing. And I placed her once again into the arms of the city we both grew to love.