AliThinks

Written On Sunday

In the summer of 1992, I was a fresh-faced -- I think -- college graduate who had a big decision to make. For almost my entire senior year, I had dated the French teaching assistant, and had spent the two and a half months following graduation with him in France. I came home to the States for my brother's wedding; otherwise I might have tried to stay in France, hard as it would have been to get a work visa.

I can't remember if this was before or after the wedding, but I visited the magical place where I'd worked the two previous summers. Chautauqua Institution is an indescribable place. You just can't explain it to someone who's never been there. My job in the independent, arty cinema there was one of the best jobs I have ever had in my life.

I also can't remember who was with me at Chautauqua that day. I'm inclined to think it was my parents. We went there to see the Democratic nominee for President. I speak, of course, of Bill Clinton. He came to Chautauqua with his wife Hillary, his running mate Al Gore, and Gore's wife Tipper (for whom I didn't have much respect at the time, because all I knew about her was her lobbying to have warning labels put on album covers when I was a teenager, and I was a serious music fan, even back then).

I already knew then that I would most likely vote for Mr. Clinton, but seeing him speak (and then Al Gore, Hillary Clinton, and Tipper Gore afterwards) banished any doubts I might have had. I even forgave Tipper for her PMRC crap.

All this is a preface to this past weekend. Six of us saw An Inconvenient Truth last night. I'd wanted to see it; I was interested in seeing Al Gore now that he has no office to run for. The six of us agreed that the audience for this documentary is people who already are concerned about global warming. People with a liberal bent, perhaps. People who have respect for Al Gore.

Well, I don't really care about your politics right now, or what you think of Mr. Gore. I'm just going to recommend this film to everyone. If you care about humankind, see it. If you have children, see it. If you are an educator, see it (and when it comes out on DVD, show it to your students).

Any attempt I could make at describing the film would fall short right now, just as I would fall short in describing the Chautauqua Institution to you.

Speaking of which, a few of us are going to Chautauqua tomorrow to hear Mr. Gore speak. Perhaps we will hear the same things we heard last night. It doesn't matter. It will be good to hear it again. And I'm especially looking forward to visiting Chautauqua again. I've racked my brain, and I'm pretty sure that the last time I was there was the summer of 1992, not long before I decided to move to France to marry that teaching assistant.

Edit, Tuesday, July 25th: We are back in Kentucky, and I wanted to add that Mr. Gore's presentation in the Chautauqua Amphitheater yesterday was standing room only. And we had no seats. We listened to his introduction, then when he started the slideshow, which we'd essentially seen two nights before, I went for a walk with Allan, my (impatient) kids, and my nephew. It was wonderful to be back there, even for just a short time.

We Really Are Crazy

On Thursday we were supposed to meet my friend Denise for lunch, but she had to cancel at the last minute. Faced with a day when everyone else we know in the Pittsburgh area had plans, we decided to drive north to my family's ancestral home. One of my brothers lives there in our grandparents' old house, and the other was staying at our family's house on an adjacent property. The houses are about 600 feet apart as the crow flies. A dirt road leads from one to the other, or you can walk through the woods and across the creek. It is home to me.

It's a two-hour trip up there from the 'Burgh, but the kids were excited with the prospect of seeing cousins. And I was excited about seeing my own cousin, who was visiting there, and whom I didn't expect to see at all.

It was a great day, filled with creek-and-woods exploring, pool splashing, beer drinking, fire building, meat grilling, and story telling. We got back to the hotel at 1:30 in the morning. The kids didn't want to come back (since we are going back up there tomorrow for a week -- are you confused yet?), but yesterday we had a date with my dad at Kennywood. And that's a subject for another blog entry.

Road Pop

...makes traveling with kids SO much easier.

"Are You Crazy?"

That's what my sister said when I told her we were leaving for Pennsylvania at midnight.

Maybe we are crazy. Maybe I just don't feel like hearing my kids complain about being bored and asking "when are we there?" in their French-influenced syntax. Maybe I think Ohio will be better in the dark. Less wide. Less flat. Less boring. Less likely to spark the desire to  commit a crime.

Yeah, so. We're off to Yinzerville Pittsburgh tonight. Allan has more.

Good Morning, Jetlag!

I've been awake for 45 minutes. It's 6:30 in the blessed morning. I'm trying to stream some music here, but it just ain't workin', and I'm thinking I should just go back.to.bed.

Nope. There's the music. RealPlayer. Who knew it actually worked?

So. I arrived safely, but I'll tell you, getting here was quite the series of bumbles and comic events. I can't remember a single damn thing, either, except the mess of chewing gum on my wallet. Caterpillar-gut green chewing gum, stuck to my wallet, because I'd placed the wad of it in my luggage tag from the flight. I wrapped it up, stuck it in my purse, because hello, this is France; good luck finding a garbage can when you need one. Well, my wallet fell on top of the tag in just the right position to "open" the fold I'd made in it. Gum. All over the corner of the wallet. 32° heat. Sticky!

The good news is that Hertz gave me a really hott car to drive. I'm the proud renter of a Peugeot 1007. (Entre parenthèses, why did Google default to a search in Brazilian Portuguese? Um, whaaaa?). This car was designed for apes and creatures with superperipheral vision. I kid you not, to put on the seat belt, I have to turn around, get on my knees, and reach back for the strap. I can reach the gears okay, but that drink I put in the cup-holder? Not. (I know, I know -- it's more important to shift than to drink). And the windshield? Has these things in the corners that make it hard to see. Unless you're an ape with super-peripheral vision. 

Oh, remember the bumbling and comic part? I remembered another thing: at the toll-booth, I couldn't see how to open the window. So I opened the space-age sliding door and took my ticket. Fortunately, no one saw me, ass. Unfortunately, the surveillance cemeras probably did. Fortunately, I figured out how to put down the window before I got to the next tollbooth.

But I made it here in one piece, and have had a lovely weekend with my friends. I hope you are having a good one, too.

Boosting The Morale Of This Gator

Yesterday my friend Anne called me up, invited herself down here, and said "We'll go to IKEA." 

I love Anne. 

We headed down to Bordeaux quite late in the afternoon.  It was after five.  But IKEA doesn't close until 8 p.m. so we had enough time.  It's only 95 kilometers away.

Except that the Pont d'Aquitaine, THE bridge you have to go over to get to IKEA, was closed.  Let me make a comparison to a city I know:  It's like the Fort Pitt Bridge in Pittsburgh being closed (which of course, it recently was).  Be sure to click on those links just there.  There are some great photos.   

Yikes.  Three hungry kids in the back seat didn't help.  We had to drive toward Spain (tapas, anyone?), then circle back around the other side of Bordeaux.  We got to IKEA about 45 minutes after we'd planned to, and had just about an hour to shop. 

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know how much I love IKEA.  I was thinking about this today, trying to think of a reason why I love IKEA.  I mean, it's just a store.   I came up with one reason:

Cool stuff at affordable prices. 

See, you can't get nice things for cheap in France.  You just can't.  If you're a student, chances are you have a fold-out couch like this or this, and isn't that just the ugliest shite you've ever seen?  If you're not a student, you're most likely not earning much money anyway, because we all know that it's impossible to make money in "Capitalism Is Evil" France.  But I digress.  Point is, you're probably not going to be able to afford this, this, or this. 

So you salivate over all things IKEA, especially since there isn't one right near where you live.  (And no, I didn't choose this town just because it's closer to IKEA.  It's just a cute little town with a medieval prison in it). 

Anyway, I had enough time to buy a few necessities.  My bum is now parked in this chair.   I got one of these, so that my living room wouldn't be so dark.   I also got a few other sundry items.   I need more to make this place my home, and not all of it will come from IKEA. 

Going there yesterday was exactly what I needed, though.   

Thanks, Anne.