Drinking beer in the Deep South

Sometimes I think I should be writing more, and sometimes I am stuck for things to say. I think no one will be interested in the slightest in anything I have to say. Maybe that is correct, but tonight nudged me straight out of one of those moods. There I was in a bar with a New York Taxi stuck on the roof, a Caddy parked up outside, some huge trucks in the parking lot, the sound track to "O brother where are thou" was blasting through the bar, coors was on tap, the waiter was a stocky greasy haired hill billy rocker type, the barman was bald fat and bearded. Burgers and ice cream were being ferried out to tables as quickly as humanly possible and the pool table was worn and tilted, the weather was hot and sticky even at 10pm at night, but what would you expect from the deep south of.....FRANCE.
I was cracking up laughing to think that although Ken and Joe are gone back stateside, they would have had a huge laugh to look at the Texas Truck stop just outside Antibes, and have a beer, and yet listen to the staff talking in french.

Funny how you hear so much negativity about France from the U.S. side of things and how much the French and indeed the world admire certain aspects of American Culture. Pity that people of different cultures who know so little about each other, either completley admire or completely destest the other without knowing who the other really is?
So I guess I should take the opportunity to say that although I identify strongly with my passport identity, Irish, I don't think I would be considered typically Irish. I don't really know. Are any of you who read this typically American or French or English or anything at all?

Anyway the new job is interesting, lots of nice people and intelligent people which is always good. They all seem to pretty cool too. I can't and won't put in too much about where I work, some people might not be happy. Suffice to say I am learning and enjoying the challenge. I do have one worry, but will try to sort that out with the boss tomorrow.

Oh yeah the real news this week as I am clean out of cash and haven't a red penny because I had no work whatsoever for the month of August and having worked since July 7th, is that I got stung for 81 euros and 50 cents to get my 50cc scooter out of the police lock up, as apparently it was causing a security problem at 11am for a match that was kicking off a 9pm monaco time. The fourrier here is what they call the car pound and yes I was feeling well and truly skinned. Yes the cops in Monaco finally got me. What can I say? I had eluded them for so long, but not any more. The race is over, the competition is finished. They won't get me again as my free parking starts next month :-). I am really hoping the cheque doesn't bounce. Well August has been the most positive month I have had since I got here in June 2003 I reckon. Long may it continue.