I Was Screwed
โI am screwedโ, Iโm thinking.
Ok, Iโve been living here for a few years now, and I should know better, but I fell for the oldest trick in the book.
A week or so ago, I invited a few friends and acquaintances over for dinner. One of them, who is French, has always been a bit scornful of me, from my lack of complete fluency in The Worldโs Most Complicated Language to thinking itโs funny to ask me if Iโm going to take out ketchup for my dinner. At my house. Which was supposed to be some kind of joke. I guess.
Anyhow. So I get asked a question, and I should have seen this coming. But really, it just seemed so innocent at the time, he asksโWhat do you think of France?โ
The moment I opened my mouth, to give my opinion, I said to myself, โMerde!โฆthere is no way out of this.โ I should have shut my mouth right there and not even bothered. What was I thinking? When I moved to France, I purposely avoided political or cultural confrontations. Not only was my French not up-to-snuff, but there never seems to be any way to win an argument. But Iโve lived here long enough, talked to a lot of people, and have opinions just like any normal-ish person.
So if someone asks,
โWhat do you think of the Marais?โ
If you sayโฆ
โItโs beautiful and historic. The buildings are lovely and itโs a wonderful testament to the magnificent history of France.โโฆ
โฆtheyโll respond,
โUgh! It is a horrible place. It is full of tourists and very trendy now.โ
But on the other hand, if you sayโฆ
โOh, I used to like the Marais but itโs become so trendy.โโฆ
โฆtheyโll say,
โWhat?! The Marais is the most beautiful part of Paris. You donโt know what youโre talking about.โ
You basically canโt win.
As I attempted to answer his question, remarking what I loved about Paris, touching on subjects like the fabulous food, French history and culture, the beauty of Paris, and the expressiveness of the French, I also started alluding to the problems here; unemployment, the ailing social state, immigration woes, and the fear of globalization that are plaguing the country (and before any folks start in on the US, I certainly have a few things to say about that as well, but youโll have to visit my top-secret other blog to read that.)
Well, so all of the sudden Iโm defending both sides at once in my argument, kicking myself for being such a stupid boy for falling for one of the oldest tricks in the book around here.
In France, the worse thing you can do is not have an opinion, which was something I learned early on, and that itโs okay to be critical (except in my Comments, so donโt get any ideasโฆ) Unless youโre Tucker Carlson, most Americans think itโs really bad to get into a heated discussion (which was certainly true in poor Tuckerโs case, which got his bow-tied ass fired.) But in France, thereโs nothing worse than being phony, and saying what you want or expressing yourself is far more acceptable than walking around with a big, dopey grin on your face regardless of how you actually feel.
Well, I guess I should backtrack and say that itโs only acceptable it seems to express yourself as long as youโre in agreement with them.
But the lack of unprovoked smiling is why a lot of people think French people arenโt very friendly, when in fact, thatโs not true in most of my experiences. In Polly Plattโs book, French or Foe, she explains that French people wear a mine dโenterrement or funeral expression, and reserve smiling for times when they are truly, actually happy, rather than just slapping a silly grin on their face (โฆremember the old picture I had on my site here? See how French I am now?) Itโs not that French people arenโt happy, itโs just theyโre not happy all the time, just like David. In fact, I now refuse to smile anymore unless I absolutely, positively have to. Itโs made my life so much easier not having to act happy all the time.
Try it.
So Iโve come up with a solution to this dilemma: Only get into arguments that I can win.
Which leaves 2 things that are absolutely inarguable (well, 3 if you count the political state of America): Dog doo on the streets and retirement at age 50.
Iโve heard some rather ridiculous arguments things around here, such as this choice nugget against the proposed anti-smoking lawsโฆโYou have to respect the rights of others,โ said Valerie, 29, a smoker since the age of 20.
I think Iโll let Valerieโs comments speak for itself (and maybe cut the poor dear a little slack, since sheโs only 29), but no one can seem to defend leaving dog doo on the street, and no one seems to be in the โPro-dog dooโ camp. Are people going on strike to preserve the โrightsโ of dog owners not to clean up after their dogs?
Likewise with the generous retirement age. I canโt imagine retiring in 2 1/2 yearsโฆand with full benefits (well, I donโt get any benefits, so I canโt imagine that anyways.) But letting people retire at 50 seems awfully young to me. I mean, what does one do for the next 40-50 years? (Unless, youโre a smoker. Then you can probably shave a few years off that.)
So Iโve come up with a solution for both problems; instead of those people retiring, voila!: why not hire them to clean up after the dogs in Paris?
Or better yet, teach some of the young people a few lessons in logic.
Who can argue with that?







