UPDATE: I just realized I keep getting the name of Montmajour Abbey incorrect. Montmajour Abbey is the correct name. In French it is Abbaye Notre Dame de Montmajour. Wiki it here.
So I was walking down the street, singing “Last Kind Words” by Geechie Wiley, which is, like the saddest song in the whole world, in the history of history. It goes like this:
The last kind word I heard my daddy say
Lord the last kind word I heard my daddy say
If I die, if I die in the German War
I want you to send my body, send it to my mother, Lord
If I get killed, if I get killed, please don’t bury my soul
Just leave me out, let the buzzards eat me whole
When you see me comin’, look ‘cross the rich man’s field
If I don’t bring you flour, I’ll bring you bolted meal
I went to the depot, I looked up at the sign
Cry some train don’t come, there’ll be some walkin’ done
My momma told me, just before she died
Lord, Oh precious daughter, don’t you be so wise
The Mississippi River, you know it’s deep and wide
I can stand right here, see my baby from the other side
What you do to me baby, it never gets out of me
I mean I’ll see you, after I cross the deep blue sea
And I ran into that Karl dude, see above. And then back at Hotel Bellechasse, there’s our pals, Jake Riviera and Lauri Riviera, checking in just two minutes after we got there, not unexpected, but a welcome sight, and it means a pleasant evening is in store.
I finished Anne Carson’s Grief Lessons (Four tragedies by Euripides)before we left for Provence, and the images and plots and hysterical, brutal scenes were still ringing in my head, and I’m running into characters from those tragedies in bronze (at Musee Rodin, at Musee d’Orsay, etc.), and then there’s this poster everywhere, for Philosophie magazine, and I just had to buy it. Not just for the guy with the horse head, and just about any time there’s a guy with a horse head, it’s disturbing enough to get my attention, but as it turns out, they’re holding the
23rd World Congress of Philosophy in Athens now. Excellent! If I could I would go, even if all the talk would be over my head. So I bought the magazine and I’m slowly translating the whole thing (it’s in French), with the help of Babelfish. Looks like they’ve got heavy duty articles on Theseus and the Minotaur, Oedipus, and all that great stuff that’s been spooking me out for the past few years or so.
I also bought a couple of graphic novels at the bookstore by Deux Magots, and we went out shopping with the girls (except, now that I think about it, Jake and I would park at a bistro or something and have a couple of drinks while our wives shopped, then when they wanted to move on, we’d find another bar close to the new shopping area). Later that night we ate at La Rotonde, and it was just as good as the last time we ate there, maybe better. Next day we ate at the mother of all brasseries, La Coupole. We ate a lot of places and I took a lot of iPhone pix.