La Fête du Travail
Yesterday was the Fête du Travail, the "work festival". Or "work party". Or any number of translations that I thought were funny -- here was a truly French holiday: one in which we celebrate not working. Then I realized we do this, too, on Labor Day. And then it made a lot more sense but was a lot less funny. Alas. Anyway, I had a surprisingly good day. I was doubtful. I kind of wanted to go to the grocery store (closed). The trams and buses weren't running. Even the bar downstairs was closed. Things were not looking up, in the way of entertainment. But mid-afternoon, Franck played a show with his blues rock band, FireFrank and the Fire Starters, at the Bourse du Travail. I hadn't seen them play before, though I'd seen Franck do a variety of acoustic covers and originals. It was definitely a good show. The weather was overcast, windy and in the mid-50s, Fahrenheit. I wished for a hair tie. My toes were cold in my sandals. This didn't really b...