For work I’ve always got a panoply of Amazon devices that spring into action if I utter the phrase “Alexa” above a whisper. Today at lunch I was enjoying a little Tuna Ahi at my desk and one of the voice boxes started to autoplay a new Amazon Original series called “Romanov”. The premise isn’t important, but the setting is duo-nationality Aaron Eckhart (Waspy American) living in Paris near his aging/crazy-racist Aunt.
J’ai envie.
There are many scenes of Aaron in close-quarters meals with friends, bouncing between English and French, unburdened by les sujets quotidiens, but rather musing on issues large and small, with equal doses of insight and emotion. Other scenes take us through the urban beauty of Paris that our characters seem to continue to appreciate despite daily exposure.
I have had two great runs through France.
The first was six weeks in the mid-90s, living in a flat on the Jardin de Tuileries. I had been there for nearly four weeks when I figured out that “tuilierie” was “tile”, not “tulip”. I was on a 12 month whirlwind work project that probably had me in front-of-the-screen more than the great opportunity should have warranted, but I still was infected with Paris’ magnificence.
The second was a month-long vacation in the South of France (Gordes, Provence) about 75km North of Aix. Four of us rented us a house and we relaxed, and toured, and ate, and played, and talked, and drank. Bastille Day in Aix rates with Oktoberfest in Munchen for boundless fun that welcomes all travelers. My only mistake before going was not to check if anyone else knew how to drive a stick — I was a 30 day designated driver. It was so magnificent I struck a deal with my workplace to work just eleven months a year so that I might make la pèlerinage français an annual event. Of course, by the next August I had moved on to my first startup, so the habit never locked in.
I’ve got to be at least 10-15 years away from from French residence, but maybe I’m less than five from starting an “August habit”, or rather “habitude d’Août”. I think in the meantime I can maybe breathe a little life into my faltering French. Having lived in a dozen different places has blurred what limited language skills I can draw on. And it’s been 22 years since that magical August. So…COMMIT 2019: Tune up my French.