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Early summer

My friend Joey graduated from Columbia this year. I could have gone to the ceremony, but instead, I am flying her to Paris for three weeks. She majored in architectural history, studied French for 2 years and has never been to Europe. I know! Could not have been a more obvious choice. 

Joey is staying at the apartment of a friend of mine here, who is elsewhere on her own vacation. Joey is here alone to start and the boys (her husband Ben and their 10-year old son, Owen) will follow in about a week. I have a few things planned, but mostly time together. Joey and I stay in touch but we both miss our time together. When she was in school, we would have lunch every Thursday and mull over the issues of the day. This time in Paris is a joyous time for me; time to reconnect and to get closer. It has a touch of sadness as well. When this time is over, when will we be able to do this again? No, not for now. Now we will revel in the time we have. 

Of course we have to see some of the architectural marvels of Paris. I have tickets to the ballet at the Palais Garnier (the Paris Opera). There are 4 of us going: Joey, Helmut, Laure and me. The ballet itself baffles me a bit. I was hoping for some depth but it is "La Fille Mal Gardée," a fairly fluffy comic piece. Helmut is absolutely charmed by it and the auditorium is filled with his laughter. This warms me, but, being an opera guy, I expect at least one death. Not happening. At the intermission, we promenade, marveling in the splendor that is the opera house; really amazing. Everyone else loves the ballet and I am so happy for them. No distruction for me, but it was a charming evening. So they tell me. 

My birthday rolls around and I become 59. When did that happen? I was always the youngest in the group. Anyway, I have a special treat planned. I am taking Joey to the Jules Verne restaurant in the Eiffel Tower. When you come to Paris, seeing the Tower is of course a necessity, but it is also a nightmare. There are hours-long lines for each of the 2 elevators and even if you are willing to walk, there are lines and a charge for these. The Jules Verne restaurant has its own private elevator, so if you have reservations, you go right up to the second floor and get seated at a window overlooking Paris. The food is wonderful, supplied by Alain Ducasse. A memorable lunch and event. 

This weekend we are spending the weekend at the Mill, Helmut's family country home, which is really wonderful for Owen. He is loving the dogs. And the cats. And the chickens. And the turtles. I am in hell, but he is loving it. We are returning to Paris later on today (Sunday) after more country goings on. (Aside: what is the big deal about walks? I am here looking at something green and now you want me to walk an hour in a direction to look at another tree. I'm good, thanks. )

In the midst of the fun, I sit back and realize I will miss them when they go back home. But that is for later. Now we have more sites, more lunches, more dinners, more coffees at the cafes, more aperitifs. 

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