It's all about attitude

As the debate over health care reform in America wages on, I have received many letters from my friends in California asking me about the french system of universal healthcare. And I have had many conversations with my french friends with regards to this issue. I also have been keeping close tabs on the issue in the States via internet, as since my divorce I have been unable to afford health insurance (and I am not exactly in the system here). France is a democratic republic, much like the U.S. with a dash of socialism thrown in for good measure. Socialism is a word that strikes fear and much emotion in the hearts of Americans-many believe that it is a slippery slope toward communism. The french view this differently. Perhaps because of her history of monarchy, where the masses starved and suffered whilst a priveleged few lived in luxury, equanimity is part of the french mindset. Let me give you an example. I have spoken to several friends about my concern that if something catasrophic were to happen such as a heart attack, cancer, or an accident that would require a visit to the hospital what would I do? As I mentioned earlier, I have been flying "under the radar" so to speak- an illegal alien in France! I have a little savings, but surely not enough to cover anything major should a problem arise, and I don't wish to be a burden on the french system. My friends have all replied in the same way, "But you would be covered. You must fill out a special form designed for people here illegally, and the state will compensate." I was shocked, and just a little bit horrified! I explained that it didn't seem right to use a system that I have not contributed to, that I would be using money that they have essentially worked for and been taxed on. Their answer was always the same, "But the money is there, you must use it if you need it!" This way of thinking is so different from the American way that it has taken me a while to process it. Imagine a country where people believe that healthcare for all is a basic human right. Imagine a society that considers the needs of each citizen over the profit margin of giant corporatations. At present, the insurance industry in America is spending one million dollars PER DAY fighting health care reform. The profit margin per year is in the billions. And 128 people a day die in America because they have no health insurance. Meanwhile, the attitude of many Americans is this: "I dont want my tax dollars going to pay for illegals!" (I've got mine, screw you) "I don't want big goverment running health care!" ( The VA and Medicare are government run programs that work quite well). Granted, there are problems associated with the ininsured needing emercency medical treatment, many hospitals in California and elsewhere have been forced to close their doors because of financial issues. As Representative Brian Bilbray pointed out, the federal government mandates that no one can be denied treatment, and rightfully so, but they are not sending the money back to the states for compensation. Meanwhile, in France everyone gets decent healthcare. Nobody has to die because they cannot afford to see a physician. And if their tax rate is a bit higher than what Americans pay it still works out to be less than what the average family pays in insurance premiums, only to be denied compensation, canceled, or denied coverage altogether because of a "preexisting condition". Living in France has been an interesting learning experience, full of suprises and contradictions. I have long thought that the French can take some lessons from Americans, and Americans can take some lessons from the French. There aren't that many differences between us, after all is said and done human beings have the same basic needs and desires. Perhaps the most suprising difference for me has been the attitude of the average citizen, and how the french view social issues such as health care. Last year I was sick with a horrible cold that turned into a sinus infection. I happened to be aquainted with a doctor from whom I rented an apartment whilst on vacation a few years ago. I phoned him for an appointment, stating I thought perhaps I needed a prescription for antibiotics. Not only did he fit me into his busy schedule that day, (he is a specialist widely known in France) but he spent at least an hour on the examination, discussing my symptoms and offering me my first accupuncture treatment. He sent me home with some homeopathic remedies, and he followed up by calling me the next week to check on my progress. The cost? Zero. He explained that we were friends and refused compensation. Imagine! Imagine. It's all about attitude.

Journées du patrimoine

Once every year for a weekend the french goverment opens its doors and offers viewing of places usually closed to the public such as the Palais Elysées, (where President Sarkozy lives and works) The National Assembly, and the Senate. This is called the "Journées du patrimoine". Last year I was walking around town one sunday and noticed people queueing up in unusual locations. Later that week I mentioned this phenomenon to a friend over coctails and she exclaimed, "Why that was the Journées du patrimoine of course!" Of course. Silly me! What is "patrimoine?" I asked. (I knew what a journey was) She explained it was like "heritage" or "inheritance", and that these places "belong to all the people of France as we pay the tax to maintain them." Makes sense to me. This year I decided to brave the crowds and I joined my friend Madeleine for a tour of the Palais-Royal and the Quai d'Orsay, which is the nickname for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. We met at the Palais-Royal, commissioned by the Cardinal de Richelieu in 1634. When he died, he bequeathed the palace to the royal family, and it was occupied thereafter by the Bourbons, represented by Louis XIV, the princes of the House of Orleans, and the Bonapartes respectively. Fire and the revolution took it's toll on the original palace and much has changed since the days of Richelieu, it is spectacular nonetheless and a national treasure. Today it is home to the Ministry of Culture and Communications, the Council of State, the Constitutional Council, and the Comédie Française. I have to say, if you have to work 9 to 5, this is the place to do it! The sumptious architecture of the 15th century overwhelms the eye, the detail in the mouldings, the beautiful carpets woven at the legendary Les Gobelins workshops and uber meters of fabric frame the doorways and windows in traditional french style. As we passed through the salons and offices of the Ministers of State, I was struck by the juxtaposition of traditional architecture, carpeting and draperies with modern art, desk lamps, and furnishings. It was eclecticism at it's best! We entered the office of the Minister of Cultural Affairs to discover a most shocking purple wall and fabulous piece of modern art that demanded ones undivided attention. At least I thought it was shocking, I mean who would imagine a purple wall in the middle of all these marble fireplaces, gilded wainscoat, and crystal chandeliers? Madeleine on the other hand was unfazed.....I must admit once I got used to the idea, and my brain processed the information it was pretty cool! The perfect setting for the Minister of Culture. We meandered through office after office, a dream library with a rolling ladder, and visited the General Assembly Room. The four oil paintings by Henri Martin painted in 1920 depicting Agriculture, Commerce, Industry, and Intellectual Work are stunning. After all this eye candy, we were in need of a break. We wandered into a small garden outside, found a bench in the shade, and watched people stroll by as we munched a ham and cheese sandwich and boosted our blood sugar with a coke. We began the second leg of our journée strolling down the fashionable Rue St. Honoré and windowshopping, then onto Rue Royal toward the Place du Concorde. This is my favorite place in all of Paris-bustling, steeped in history, a 360° turn full of famous monuments. It was a gorgeous fall sunday, sunny with a slight breeze, the light a golden yellow hue that is autumn, the sun warm but the air fresh. We crossed the Place du Concorde and headed west along the Seine toward the Assemblée Nationale and the Quai d'Orsay. We chose the Quai d'Orsay as the queue was much shorter. Known officially as the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, it has welcomed many a foreign dignitary. Kings, Queens, Sultans, and Presidents have wined, dined, and forged diplomatic relations here. The Grand Salon is a celebration of red velvet and gold gilding, with the most magnificent tapestry imaginable, and there is a suite that was installed for Queen Victoria and her husband that boasts a mirrored salle de bain for her, and another with polished ebony walls for him. Wowza! There is a beautiful jardin behind the Ministry, and the offices in the rear of the building have lots of light and a great view. We finished the day relaxing in said garden, a luxury! Next year I would like to visit the Assemblée Nationale and the Comédie Française. What a blessing and a joy it is to have this opportunity. I thank my lucky stars every day!

The Fabulous Flavien

If you take the Metro Ligne 4 to "Odeon" and exit direction "Carrefour de Odeon" you will arrive above ground and be immediately greeted by an air of excitement and activity. College students mill about in groups smoking cigarettes, practicing being cool as they regard the opposite sex casually (or not) and run their fingers through deliberately messy hair. Others are on their cellphones waiting for a date who is running late, and guys with nothing to do lounge on the base of a statue of Danton and bum cigarettes from passers by. There is a man cooking hot crepes and a line of tourists waiting to eat them. The sound of laughter and animated conversation fills the air with the anticipation of a night of fun and uninhibited partying, for this is the "Quartier Latin" (kat-e-ay la-tan), home of night clubs and boutique hotels, interesting shopping and horrible tourist trap restaurants. It was this place, and the metro that would take me back to my vacation rental in the 15th that I was attempting to find as I wandered the streets in exhausted confusion one night about 5 years ago. I had just separated from my husband after nearly 28 years of marraige and decided to take a trip to Paris for a couple of months. I was in the middle of a major nuclear meltdown, and spent many days just wandering the streets aimlessly. I didn't know Paris at all then (in fact I still find myself lost on a regular basis) but I was tired, my feet ached, the sun had set and it was getting cold. I had wandered across the river to the Notre Dame Cathedral then back to the left bank and its maze of narrow crowded streets. I knew there was a metro somewhere nearby, I just couldn't find it! Every turn I took led me deeper inside the labyrinth of drunken college boys, thousands of satchels and tee shirts emblazoned with the image of le Tour d'Eiffel and PARIS, Lebanese fast food and gyros galore! I turned a critical corner and found myself on a slightly more civilized street, filled with art galleries and little clothing boutiques. The streets were wider and cars passed by, unlike the pedestrian streets I had been navigating. This was a good sign, my instincts told me I was headed in the right direction. Suddenly, to my left a door opened. The sound that poured from the doorway stopped me in my tracks! It was the music of the most beautiful piano imaginable, accompanied by the rythym of a contrebasse. My desire to head home vanished as I was seduced by the music of Pan himself, and I entered thus into the magical world of the Café Laurent. Elegant yet cosy, french yet welcoming, the Café Laurent is located on the ground floor of the Hotel d'Aubausson on Rue Dauphine. Formerly home of the famous jazz cave "Tabou" it was frequented by such luminaries as Jean-Paul Sarte and Brigitte Bardot. Three nights a week, from thursday to saturday, you can listen to the talented and always cool Christian Brenner Trio while enjoying an expertly mixed coctail from the bar. That night I was having my favorite drink, a champagne coctail. It was served by the most fabulous man to ever work a room, his name: Flavien. Flavien is elegant, poised, and immaculately groomed. Well dressed at all times, he appears cool in his suit and tie even in the oppressive heat of summer. He is beautiful to observe as he glides around the floor like a panther, his tray laden with drinks appears to weigh nothing at all. He is the perfect host, welcoming you as an old friend, taking your coat, making a joke. He is also strict, if you dare to choose a seat yourself you will surely be moved. It's Flavien's room, and he choreographs the seating with the precision of a Bob Fosse dance. To his credit, he seems to have an instinct for who should be seated where, and I have met many interesting people as a result of his innate talent as a host. Everyone should have someone like Flavien in their life. He fawns over you when you look fabulous, he dances with you like Fred Astaire spontaneously, and he cuts you off when he sees that you are on the way to drink and dial land. He is the heart and soul of the Café Laurent, and when he is away on vacation things just aren't the same! If you are ever in Paris you MUST visit the Café Laurent and Fabulous Flavien.... to see more of Flavien in action and a virtual visit to the CL, go to http://www.christianbrennerjazz.com/ rubric: videos, then click on "le Café Laurent".

Amsterdam

Amsterdam is everything you imagine it to be and more. A multi-faceted gem nestled in a setting surrounded by agriculture and commerce, it is at once a bustling center of tourism and debauchery-and a great place to settle and raise a family. "What has she been smoking" you might ask? Some pretty good shit franchement, (but that is neither here nor there). Upon arrival by train at Amsterdam Centraal Station one is immediately innundated by hordes of pedestrians rushing to and fro. Some are commuters running for the train that will carry them to work, but most are confused tourists getting in the way of the former as they navigate their way through a maze of fast food take out stands and last minute tulip vendors. Upon finding the exit one has the sense of being in sort of a Disneyland/carnival atmosphere. All trolley lines it seems begin and end at Centraal Station, a giant brick structure with two towers that house clocks large enough to see from a kilometer away. Young travelers equipped with dredlocks and backpacks hang around outside munching gyros and smoking one last fag before catching their departing trains. Beggars mingle amongst them hoping to scrounge a few euro, and there is a lone Jesus freak doing his very best to save those who have sinned in the sinningest city in Europe. Weaving through the masses of people coming and going, and taking care to mind all trolleys whose tracks crisscross over the streets, one makes one's way to Damrak, the main street in Downtown Amsterdam. And let the show begin! Do you like museums? Amsterdam has many fine installations for your enjoyment. Tired of that depressed old Vincent Van Gogh? Allow me to suggest the Vodka Museum! Just steps away you will find the ever popular Sex Museum, Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum, and the Condomerie, where your opportunity to photograph a wide assortment of novelty condoms hanging in the window is (evidently) not to be missed. Tourist shops line the boulevard, the hot ticket items seeming to be bright orange wooden shoes, cannabis seeds, and something to drink. As in most European cities, the shops are located on the bottom floor of a multi storied dwelling, with living space in the apartments above. The architecture is difficult to describe- a sort of mélange of four storied gingerbread buildings crowded together, most leaning precariously on it's neighbor for support. Canals meander gently through the city, inviting one to rent a boat and explore quieter neighborhoods away from the circus that is downtown. It is in these quiet places one realizes what a good way of life it is in Amsterdam. There is a sense of community, acceptance and tolerance. Bicycling is the preferred mode of transportation, and the neighborhoods occupied by young families are clean and peaceful. The air is brisk and fresh, people smile easily, and every small business has a cat on premise. It is a real joy to explore by boat or bike, and the balance one needs to survive party town. Which every canal and every trolley leads back to eventually... Must do's in Amsterdam: The Anne Franck House, apple cake with cream, the "green light district", shopping the boutiques. (Amsterdam has some great fashion, much more interesting than Paris!) What to avoid: Going to the red light district to gawk at the hookers, (unless of course you are intending to hire one) ANY restaurant in the red or green light district (the food is crap), and stepping out in front of a moving bicycle (certain death) It's an Amster-dam good time!