Preparing for Life to Begin

The 40th is coming up. What does it mean? Well already it's a big letting go period. Not to say the the 30th wasn't either. (The 21st was more of a diving into adulthood, as it was perceived at the time). Now it's letting go, chilling out, recluse comes to mind, but I am not sure it's in a way that the popular definition describes.

I have celebrated every birthday since I was 18. It's the day I was born, the reason I am here so to speak. Without that day, I couldn't be me, and I couldn't have had the experiences, highs and lows I have had. So I celebrate it.
I celbrate everyone in my life at this moment in time and at my birthday I throw a bash to thank them all for making me who I am. But. I don't want to do it anymore.

So this year on my birthday Sep 21st when Ireland play France in the Rugby World Cup, I will be eating with a select few friends. Seated on the ground, a makeshift table for 15 people, cushions, cloth, candels, colliewarrior ;-) hihi. I just threw in that at the end 'cause of the letter C. I digress.
I am hoping to create a relaxed loving atmosphere, an open space where couples can be themseleves. I will serve 15 dishes( I don't know why 15, I am just following my intuition) there will be 15 bottles of wine or at least one wine for every dish. I hope to start early by French standards and finish late.
I have asked that people dress sensually elegant, or was it elegantly sensual? Bring their favourite music, they will be barefoot.(but I am hoping some of the ladies arrive in high heels...well it is my birthday).
Some things on the menu people won't eat, some people will eat everything. It's sort of theatrical dinning a la moi.

I have met some people in blog land that I don't think will be there, but if you read it and you know who you are, you will know you are welcome.

Not being a wealthy guy I have a big edge around wealth, when I think that the people coming for the most part earn twice what our couple earns and are well installed in life, I get a little intimidated. However, I try to keep my confidence from my theatre days, put on a show, be honest, do your best and people will love it. It's an edge.

I am trying a host of new recipies. Aqua and I are having a laugh trying them out at the moment. I am a little proud too so it's difficult for her. It's my night I am doing it, so people helping are a little perturbed I don't jump and shout for joy when they offer assistance. Let me explain, I may not be a genious but I am trying to create something. Can you imagine picasso accepting help to put the paint on the Canvass? Or Shakespear jumping for joy when you offer to write Act 3 of Lear? Well I am not to their standard but it applies. Let me create, let me give, let me show my love an appreciation for those around me my way, and then when it's finished I hope you will have enjoyed it :-) .

My honey has made amazing invitations for the meal. Then on the Saturday night there will be the tradtional and last piss up in Collie's house for his birthday. Besides, I am getting to old for that lark, and I am getting extremely fit, so that sort of night is becoming less and less attractive.

Raw Hide....NOT

Yesterday was Horse Riding in Le Boren. Drive 2 hours up into the foothills of the Alps and there you find a lake, full of wild trout. Peel slowly around the corner there are 15 to twenty horses, all with riders, all waiting for us... we are late. Very late and very stressed. I don't realise how stressed my love is till I see her face as she comes in to the pound 3 minutes behind me... I have already met the guide, whose name I never caught, and the owner Dennis, a US Twang in his voice, he looks like a miner from a Eastwood Western....
I am mounted before I know it... The beast is big but funnily there is no sensation of vertigo... I feel strangely comfortable in the saddle. I have never learned to ride, the last time I was on a horse, was a hunter stallion 15 years ago and I couldn't wait to get off. This time I felt at ease.....
Our Guide.....ha ha what a woman, apparently her father is Sicilian, she was about 25, wild eyed, blue, curly hair stuck to her head. No shower for 3 days..perhaps..or rained on that morning?
I am trying to find our Contact an English woman. I don't succeed, I am mortified we are so late, I apologise ineffectively, nobody really cares, I can't see my love. I don't think she wants to talk to me...I don't mind..I call out to her anyway..she hasn't prepared, isn't comfortable. She feels it deeper than I and shows it. I just talk to my horse, to anyone, who will listen..we are walking....its easy comfortable, good....we are trotting, not comfortable ....not easy, not good, stop woah slow down...my horse breaks into a gallop..Holy shit.. I am terrified..I have no idea what to do. There are some Comedians from the city, they know less than I but don't show it. The shout and roar a gee up the horses for all they are worth laughing their heads off..... Finally the horses walk again...whew....that wasn't nice...my love is not happy... I am regretting the feeling like I pushed her this morning.....I don't want her to give up or in, ever...she's done enough of that. Recently she has found new force, new voice. It is a thing of beauty but I am afraid of her slipping back....she doesn't look happy.... I can't see her now. We are in single file up a narrow almost invisible track through the trees. Our guide calls out 'A droite' the horses duly oblige...I have made an aquaintaince, she is 'horsey set' English, The horse's are climbing, we are swapping jokes back and forth, she is right behind me... we are coming out of the trees, I hear her calling hold on, hold now just hold on, I don't understand. The two horses in front of me bolt out of the tress, gone...shit I hold, I have the reigns in one hand and the mane...Oh shit...my horse DejaVu is up and out like a shot and off with a Gallop I turn I see Jupiter(my English friend) looking shocked her horse had bolted too. I know my love is next but I can't see her and I am afraid for her...I shout loudly to her to hold on, to be ready, breathe don't be afraid. I can't see her, I cant turn the the stupid beast around..and out of the trees she comes, fear on her face, her hat falls to the ground and is trodden her horse is flying...my horse doesn't let me see the rest. I get to turn around when all is calm...her horse has backed into saplings..I can see horses people, I know there is panic but I know little else(later I find out the horses were walking on a wasps nest, and our friend fell off trying to help my love, she hurt her arm but not badly)...and then there is calm...we are off again.. I know this is the last time will we be on horse back and I had such romantic notions of it...We are off... this is a gallop, I have picked up to stand up in the stirrups and I try shit it works..wow...I get it, I manage to make the horse go left and right as she runs wow this is cool ....a white horse flies past a crazed with joy face turns and those blue eyes pierce me..my horse decides to move up about 5 gears....OH good god in heaven and all that's holy I hope I have a change of underpants, I am going to need it if this keeps up...Our French sicilian guide laughs at me, she mocks me laughingly and all I can do is agree... There is no point in being macho and trying to hide what she saw on my face. It spelled shear terror..I can tell you exhiliration has taken on a new sense in my dictionary...
We rode for 3 hours.. the two comedians were eventually forced to walk back as our guide lost her mind with them for abusing the horses and moaning and complaining the whole route but mostly for whipping the animals..they refused to dismount. She was screaming they were refusing...I have a deep voice and bellowed..one dismounted straight away...2 minutes later she was at the other one, the same insane fury...I have felt it, been it harnessed it and learned from it and it was then she was ingraved in a part of me. I finally saw in someone else a fury born from passion that meets pig ignorant laziness. It's a sight to behold... I belowed again, easily, this time perhaps my look helped more than my voice. I took little notice I could now turn the horse where I wanted...... I could make him trot.. amazing. I passed up on the last Gallop afraid for my love so I stayed with her, and nervous for myself so it was easy, so do did our contact who I think is a wonderful woman, another horsey set..... Look at me, the Irish Rebel hanging out with the English horsey set and loving it..Thunder was rolling around the hills now, war like clouds swathed the mountains and the first Drizzle I have seen in France in 4 years fell. I was in Jeans and T Shirt and I was blessed lovingly by Mother Nature. But the striking thing at the end of the day, were the views, to be in a place no car could be, on horse back, hips swaying in time, back straight, and a small smile curling on the lip, all quiet...wow....That and that my love is determined to take riding lessons so we can go again...gidy up...away.
Surprisly my ass and balls are not in the slightest bit sore, I must have been doing something right... ;)

Living Powerfully

You know I was tagged to talk about I live powerfully. It was 2 weeks ago.
I am still stunned that anyone would think I do because I think I don't.
Everything I see described as powerful living I take for granted I guess.
For me it's more why not how I live powerfully but how others choose not to live powerfully...
I don't know what else to say.

Algerian Boogie

I know I have been amiss in keeping my blog. I have had a lot going on and a lot of it positive. I suppose I have been fermenting a bit..I have discovered some thing called Tantra, for real. Meaning I had read acres of stuff about it but never actually done it. More on that on a later post....but today I wanted to tell you about dancing....dancing is great to shift the gloom no matter what time of day or night you do it, if you are down, bang on some music and dance.
I used to hang with two Berbour Girls from Algeria and their music was all that and more. Incredible to watch them dance and do that crying thing with their tounge, at 2am in the morning. Damn it was pretty erotic to watch those hips go, those big sloe eyes, and the knowing smile, they knew they were having an affect and the loved the attention.... The music was almost like it was made to fuck to but they were good girls and I behaved myself as usual.. Can you imagine it, 6 people in kitchen come bedroom, one of them smoking pot, enough money for some rice and some fish and some fruit juice. On goes the music, one of the girls jumps up and we squeeze together to make room, imagine Shakira with less of and edge and more sensuality....The used to say they were terrible dancers but I can tell you it was difficult not to be hypnotised. It was one of my most difficult times I think looking back..and yet if I look back more clearly all I had was money worries. At that point in Time I had 3 or 4 people I could rely on to spend time with and make me feel better or in somecases miserable. There was the American guy the two girls and a Colombian.... The American left, the girls moved on in their lives and the Colombian lady is not good..but I had everything really in one sense without realising it. My french was crap but they helped. I had little food and they helped and I had little self respect, they helped. I just got all nostalgic listening to some similar music on a friends site...... ah those where the days when I had no ass in my pants and I couldn't speak french and cockroaches were my best guests.....thank something its over. ... but Damn I miss those summer nights and the Alergian boogey....

Baldy headed Shrek and the eco house

The Eco Plan.

So here 4 years and nearly 40. Oh my God does he ever stop? He is always going on about being 40. I am not 40 yet, but God I am looking forward to it. Right I have a plan. See I tried to get my hair dyed blond a few weeks ago, they gave me a mesh instead. Looked dirty and crap. They told me platinum blonde was faddy, the mesh would be better. I believed them. My son was with me but still shocked when he saw the change. My source into french Non verbal Communication told me it's because they didnt know how to do it, that they gave me the mesh. Apparently I was less virile and my girlfriend didn't like it at all. So I will go to her hairdresser next time......if there is a next time. See after a month I shaved it all off and now my head breaths, oh yes god how beautiful it is to be hairless. I am balder than a pumpkin, balder than watermelon I am as my son put it, a baldy headed shrek. He loves it and keeps patting me on the head. She likes it too. :)

Right the Eco plan. With all that air getting to my head I came up with a masterplan. It's expensive to buy and house and 40 approaching, mortgage blah blah... well...yes I am. I am going to build my own house. Our own house that is. We need to find a plot of land, and a wooden kit house that suits our needs. Check out what funding is available for grants and basically build the self sustaining house of the future, run on solar power, recycling all the water used, and producing it's own fertiliser for a vegtable garden. Hopefully it will be a place that will have a positive rather than zero, and certainly not a minus effect, on the environment.
Once a month it would be open to people to come and see how to benefit from eco living and what small changes they could make in their own homes.

To be honest it is probably the only way I can afford a house, and probably the only way I can get the EU or French Government to give me some grants in helping build it.

What you all think ? Are any of you out there inventing knew or different ways of saving energy and think it would look good in our house?
Get in touch :-)

Books and bits and hitting the floor.

I have been tagged by Gillette, she wanted to know the most fun thing I ever did with a book, involving books or libraries.
The most fun thing I ever did with a book!
Hmm it could be the summer I read 30 novels
Hmmm it could be the time I used to share passages of a Nancy Friday book with certain Friends....
Hmm difficult, honestly I have no idea.
See books for me are treasures. I have been collecting and loosing books for years...I left a lot of them behind me in Ireland and gave them away.
I managed to keep some with me. In fact as a child our house had so many books they often sat on chairs more than we did.
At the risk of sounding completely boring the most fun thing I ever did with a book was read it, keep it, and then a few years later, read it again.
I am sure there are some saucy tales with books and ex-girlfriends, but I am not sure those type of books qualify...... Well I just read back on Gillettes post and apparently they do. The most fun thing I ever did with those was get off. ;-) The first time was to one of 'those' books, not readily available in Roman Catholic Ireland but hey, being the youngest of 6 ( 5 boys) helped ;-). There was also a certain lady who was interested as to why it was interesting....well duh..needless to say the magazine landed up on the floor long before we did :-)
Now who to tag? I have been away for so long from blog land I forget who comes here apart from Greenwoman...So if you find yourself reading this consider yourself tagged.

Codes

I have often heard stories about how people in china wear red to funerals, or make loud music. While in Ireland they used to hire people to cry and then have the mother of all parties. I am here watching and learning the body language. I had a mesh put in my hair and not one guy told me I was gay(standard Irish guy response). Acutally I wanted to go Platinum blonde but the hairdresser.... well that's another story.
Living here is like being in a rural metropolis. Everyone knows everyones business. Men are men and women are women and the roles are extremely strict. Not in the overt sense. Women can be powerful in business but the must look and dress like feminine creatures not like men. Men must be athletic, strong, standard male stereotype. Bosses don't understand why a guy would change his hair colour.
However living here I realise the non verbal language is very different. A woman will show off her cleavage and be happy that men look at it. She will flaunt her body and not think you a perv for looking. A guy will shake your hand, smile, slap you on the back, and then not bother his arse answering emails you send. There is a Non verbal Hypocrasy that is intensely absurd adolescent, and extremely difficult to decode. The problem in highlighting it is that I can't acutally give a specific example, but if I brush your arm with the palm of my hand to say hello, what do you think I would be saying really? It happens here, but I don't know what they mean.

HOMESICK

What is it about Irish people? There has just been an election at home and as usual the corrupt party got elected and the right wing got decimated,(Hmmm is it possible to get decimated?).

The political landscape has been a strange one to grow up in. It is only now that I am no longer there, that I can define in a new way what it means to be Irish for me. It has little to do with Church or State even though I have been profoundly effected by both. I grew up in a poor, mostly homogenous, country, where usually the foreigners were tourists.

The Nigerians who came to eat with us, who worked in the same hospital as my mother, and the Arab guys who lived a few doors down, were exceptions. That I had contact with them at all was a priveledge and it is only now as I write I realise I was the only one in a neighbour hood of many children, who spoke and ate with these kind and gentle engineers from another country.

There are now more jobs than workers in Ireland, and it is a thriving multinational island on the west of Europe, and yet at it's heart too. Racism is still rife.

So what am I homesick for? My parents are selling the house they have lived in for over 50 years of marriage. My home will be sold. My home. Me?
My friends have either sold up and moved away, or lost contact with me and I with them. It rains a lot. I have never felt I belong there, neither to the religous conservatives, nor the sporting leftwing or the rich and nazi like right. I could string a few words of gaelic together, I knew where to get 'good' music, a decent pint, what places to avoid, and in a second, I could tell if there was going to be trouble. I could size a guy up by his walk and the look in his eyes, I could meet him on his own level because I have an uncanny ability to imitate, and a great visual memory for movement and body shape.

Maybe it is this. This knowing and understanding that I miss. I am like a man scuba diving without a tank. I speak and it is all bubbles, I hear and it is all muffled. I speak English, every phrase has to repeated. I speak French, every phrase has to be corrected. I don't know the faces, the kids look like adults. The adults act like children. I am completely thrown for six in fact. I am a man who is now swimming more often than in the whole of my life to this point, and yet I am a fish out of water.

I live in paradise. I am no longer in Tir na Og, (land of the young),Ireland.
How strange! I am reminded of the instutionalised who cannot function once set free in society. I am more than capable at home, here I struggle. This is the longing for home, the longing to walk into a bar, look accross the room see a complete stranger, smile, and know that in 20 minutes you will be engrossed in a damn good conversation over a decent pint and there is always fish and chips to eat on the way home. But can you ever really go back once you leave? A friend told me one time, the intelligent leave and grow, and do well, the stupid stay. How frustrating for the intelligent when they see they have arrived in Stupid land. Ignorance is not at all bliss, it is a terrible affliction, and yet I am homesick for my cold and damp ignorant island that is Ireland, that is Home.

The Right Has It

The Result of the Presidential Election is that Sarko goes past the post with 53% of the vote. Now we will see if there is a New France or more of the same from the ruling party that is the right. Sego is already giving her speech. Voting closed at 8pm and the outpolls, always accurate give us the result. It's quick clean and simple.
But what now?
--------------------------------

What does it mean when the President elect mentions the opposition and all his supporters boo and holler? What does it mean when the President elect says 'No, we must respect Madame Royale because half of France has voted for her, and it is the job of the President of France to respect all of the people of France?" Does it mean that only because he is president he will give lip service to you? Or does it mean that political views are now as zero, and he will actually respect everyone regardless of race, colour, creed?. Mon Oeil. I could write so much more about what I have seen tonight but why? A country gets the leader they deserve. If 20% of the population couldn't have been bothered to vote or to make a choice they will indeed reap what they sow.
Sarkozy has called on people to support the US. France is a friend of the US. I wonder what this means for both Bush and his war on terror? Or is it Sarkozy's anti Magrebian, anti Arab, anti Berbour, anti anyone from the middle east or a former French colony policy that will change forever the face of modern Europe? It is definitely a strange time to be here. Yes the Right have it, but it doesn't mean they are correct.

Where is Home?

The Election is on today. France will have a new President soon. Those who are voting blank are voting for Sarkozy. They will moan and bitch afterward without realising their refusal to vote against him is a vote for him. He may be the tonic France needs. He worries me. He looks too eager. Strange that his father came from Hungary. I wonder what this country holds for my boys future?

My son is here with us. I am extremely tired. I think I may have had a flu and although now I have come through it I am completely knackered.
My Parents are selling the family home in Ireland. It is causing me some problems. I knew I was attached to my place, my space. Since I have left Ireland I have had to redefine my identity. I had never before had to explain what an Irishman is until I came here. I knew then it was only my explanation, not any other Irishman's or Irishwoman's.
I have watched people make assumptions and crack jokes and completely misinterpret what goes for normal back home. The notion the French have of Irish people is a little like that of those who think French men ride bicycles with strings off onions around their necks, while their wives smoke long cigarettes and wear suspenders under knee length pencil skirts.
Now there is another straw being pulled away. Another thread opened and unraveled. When I go home next, where will home be?
It is certainly not here, not yet. I haven't been able to seep my spirit into the soil and find a connection.
I wonder if there is a reason for that?

The Final the Election and Europe

I missed the televised debate. I have no idea what happened. Why ? Well sick as I am I decided to go and watch Manchester United be humbled and thrashed by AC Milian. No, it was not the plan. But I did meet a cool guy, well I had met him a few times, tonight was the first time we talked. An Italian Guy, a father, divorced, devoted to his son. This could be a good step.

I say this however, if you are thinking of not voting, please vote no matter where you are. At the least it may give you the right to bitch for the next 4 years.

Alexander Newski

I am just back from the Grimaldi Forum. The Monaco Philharmonic played Prokofiev along to the film by Eisenstein. It was quite fun in fact to see such a presentation. The film was made as a message to Nazi Germany not to Invade the borders of Russia. The message fell on deaf ears but the outcome historically was the same.

I wondered how Russians and Germans in the audience or even Orchestra might have perceived the film today. It was a lesson in propaganda no doubt. But as a story on it's own it was quite a fun experience.

I asked what was spirituality. One reader noted I am on a journey. It is one I have been on for a while now. Lately however I am noticing energy in my body in strange ways. Physically for a while I have a rash over my heart chakra. I have sebhoric dermatitis which is extremely irritating. However now my chakra seems to have opened up and energy seems to be pouring out of me splashing on whoever is near. The rash has for the moment disappeared.

I am lacking a guide, a spiritual advisor in some way, a shaman. It's a huge part of my life I have neglected till now and at present, it is screaming and roaring for attention. I don't know where it will lead. I am nervous about it.

So at the beach this morning I was conscious of more looks than usual from women on the beach. I felt like I was standing out for some reason. Was there fire coming from head and feet perhaps?
Those of you that know me will think the warrior has gone nuts. The rest of you probably know what I am talking about. I couldn't help but catch the eyes of people. As I returned from my swim I saw a few of the women around 40-50 years old trying to come into the sea, they all tried to engage me in conversation about the water. This doesn't happen here. To make even friendly contact is quite unusual, so with my energies flying around the place I as usual noticed it and filed it away for further examination.

It has been a busy weekend Lots of people around us. Lots of positive feedback from those around us. I notice the network of English speakers fluctuating as always. Groups that used to number in the 20s and 30s for a night out, now number less that 10.

It is normal here. There is such a transient community. People come for the weather, the adventure, to escape something, perhaps. They get bogged down in red tape, they don't bring the right information with them, they can't understand the unspoken rules and don't know why the waiters can be so rude. They understand less the strikes, the lack of French friends, the need to speak French. They think they are dynamic and positive people but with 15 to 20 percent unemployed in the region and they not speaking the language, is it no wonder the last a few weeks, or months or a best maybe a year or two before they give up.

You see it's all been tried before, the market is flooded and people who are will protect the territory they have.

I guess it's a little like the story of the film, there seems to be a desire to repeal the invader here. The invader here are those that don't 'get it'. But I don't have an answer as to why people come. There seems to be a lot of women run away to here. The guys come to work the girls come to hide. I wonder how much truth is in that.

What is Spiritual?

You know as I sit here and write I have a plethora of things going through my mind as to what I should be writing about. I have met someone whom I think is a signpost. Recently they have pointed me near a Zen Monastery.
For me this was a real wow moment. I had not imagined there was one so accessible, so close. I am very excited about it.
In the turmoil of leaving home and friends, of being thrown in at the deep end, of breaking up with my ex, of fighting with myself to stay, of choosing to enter another relationship so soon, of just plain living, something somewhere has gotten misplaced.

I seem to have a spiritual hunger.

I seem to cathect a lot lately. To misplace energy into spaces that are not built for feeding the spirit.

I wonder how in this modern age, the spirit can be fed. How do we let go the trauma of birth, of learning to walk, to talk, to learn, to grow, to belong, to let go? Surely we must all to some extent or another suffer from Battle fatigue or post traumatic stress without actually realising it?
Surely the negative energy many people give off, sticks to us like sound to magnetic tape, and we need some space and time to brush this off?
To rebirth ourselves in consciousness and awareness, to feel deeper and more profoundly those ceremonies of life and their true meaning. What does it truly mean to marry? To get a job? To be unemployed? To be divorced? What are these labels we bandy around the place that make us rejoice or cry? Why? What does it really mean when we say, "We are at War" ?
I wonder if either of the potential presidents of France have an inner spiritual life that they are aware of. How do they apply it to their search for power? What is this power they seek? Are they so void of depth as to seek meaning in position and in fact therefore remain completely powerless?
How do you define yourself and your inner self? What are the secrets you carry that no one sees, that define you?
How does one give birth to ones true self?

The Follow Up

As I haven't been here for such a long time I doubt anyone is reading. However yesterday I spoke about him and now I will speak about her.
She is Sego. Not Sarko but Sego. Sego has just finished her spot on TV. I found what I was looking for to some degree near the end. The guy asking the questions, in fact there were two of them, asked her about her strengths and how she would prepare to face Sarko on Wednesday. Her response was completely natural, completely right and she smiled amused at such a silly question. Her responses were basically to do with asking the interviewer what he thought she had been doing for the campaign? What he thought she had done here tonight in front of him and his co-host and in front of Millions. Why in Gods Name would she be practicing in front of someone who was pretending to be Sarko? I mean Really.

Ségolène wants change and lots of it. She wants the women who work at the check out to get a pay rise every year and that the equivalent of Wall Mart doesn't get richer while paying the same wages for years.
She wants investment in youth that will in time cut the cost of unemployment.
She wants responsible Unions and Responsible Owners. Dialog before striking rather than striking to get dialog.
She wants people it seems to grow up and stop taking hand outs for nothing. She wants business to be not given huge amounts of grants when they are already rich.
She wants banks to stop charging ridiculous sums of money for the slightest infractions. ( that would get my vote if I had one. )

When pressed about Taxes she said she wouldn't raise them but Sarko said he was raising VAT. The interviewer quickly interrupted and stated that it was to be an experimental tax. Quick as a flash she turned on him without taking a breath, 'when have you ever paid an experimental tax ? It's either a tax or it's not'. I thought she was going to put him over her knee and spank him.

Maybe I am looking at her too much. she is an attractive person when she is relaxed. The few glimpses of her natural self that we have been permitted to see, shows she is a far more interesting person that the Stepford wife I described yesterday.
Stepford was not around today. Her clothing (and this is where women win hands down over men in politics, if they get it right) was amazing. She wore a white dress and black jacket and heels. I doubt French culture would let her away with trousers. But the bodice of the dress was reminiscent of a corset. It had sort of ribbing or outlining and while the dress was not at all tight it was definitely borrowing from the corset style. I was wondering if it was an intentional message to many men of France that your powerful to be leader can also be sexy. It was very subtle and perhaps not intended but certainly did no harm. I wonder how many French men and women dream of being dominated by a sexy powerful woman. It always seemed to be some sort of fetish the English Conservatives had but I didn't figure on the French having it too. [NO she who on my blog will remain nameless was not even close to feminine, never mind anything else].

I think Ségolène painted a new way. I think she communicated responsible socialism. She is bringing a new set of rules to change 'Rip OFF' France. I am intrigued as to how many votes she has gained tonight as I don't think she lost any, that's for sure. How she is going to impose her rules I cannot imagine.

Last night Sarko refused to answer what he thought her strong and weak points were. Tonight she answered the same questions about him. His strong point? He Knows Everything. And his weak point? He knows everything. He always has an answer for everything'

I don't comment on his style as he wore a suit and tie and as usual looks like a guy at a bar looking for a game of poker. How he managed to learn to ride a white horse for this election is beyond me.

I don't know who will win this election. I feel it's the most important in France for decades. I know I am more attracted to Ségolène's way working. I doubt it would be given a chance. I think a lot of what she said is already in vogue in other EU countries. This is France. They don't like change. They don't mind short men with power complexes. If she does win, it will be by a percent or two. If Sarkozy wins I think he will do it outright. I will keep you posted.

A Sort of Explanation.

Okay so you don't know so here goes. France is a founding member of the European Community.
I come from Ireland one of the countries that has benefited most from the EU.
France has an awkward history which it still refuses to deal with in relation to two key areas. The first being the WW2 and the second it's colonial past. Let me just say now, of course I have to generalise how else do you explain the reaction of a nation of over 50 million people. Both of these histories have left indelible marks on the French psyche. In particular in relation to the type of politics practised and of course identity.

The election last week was the first round of a two part race. Two people are elected to the second round and then 2 weeks later it is a straight run off.

There were 4 principal candidates in the first round. Jean-Marie Le Pen who is the Leader of the National Front ( so far Politically right it's unbalanced in my view). Francois Bayrou and politically ex right wing and now centrist leader. Segolene Royale from the Socialists and Nicolas Sarkozy from the center right UMP.

Sarkozy and Royale won the first round. It was expected Bayrou, who came third with 18% or 7 million people, would tell his followers to vote one way or another because of the result. Bayerou has instead challenged the finalists to a debate and refused to say how he will vote in the next round as they are both bad for France.

Royale immediately said ' Yes next Friday in front of the press' and Sarko has just said on TV basically 'What is the point?'
His view is, he in the final, and the third placed team can go home.( this is a mix of his word and my phrasing). What is the point of debating with someone who has lost?

The problems the French are facing are enormous.
Unemployment is extremely high. Immigration from former colonies is very high and many people are here illegally. The paradox is they come to work. The truth is they get it as they will do jobs the white French don't dare.

Youth unemployment in France is among the worst in western Europe, at around 20 per cent but hovering around 40 per cent on some housing projects. These are the people Sarkozy referred to as scum as they burned their neighbourhoods and their neighbours property in protest early last year. Not I might add, Rabble, no indeed the word used was Scum.

Social welfare is among the highest in Europe. Since I have been here paying taxes I have had my teeth done, and have had various visits to the doctor and got new spectacles. I am estimating I paid about 30% of the overall cost.

There are a huge number of civil servants and as to what they do I don't know. I have often been asked by those dealing with me if Ireland was a member of the EU. I even had one sympathise with me as I was a refugee from the war...............? (that's another story).


I have seen people here go sick from work for strange maladies. They are depressed, go to the doctor get free happy pills and can't work anymore. They stay on full salary until such time as the company decide to fire them. This can take years. If they get fired they get full salary for nearly a year and sometimes the cost of firing them can be prohibitive.
There are more pharmacies in Nice than Bars in Dublin but their produce unlike the bars of Dublin is heavily subsidised. It is in my opinion a hypochrondriac society.

I have seen many people in the work place who do the bare minimum, and then gripe about the boss. Ingenuity and spontaneity are not welcomed rather they are frowned on as they correct piece of paper has not been circulated. Some people spend the first half hour of they day logging what they had done the previous day. that's a half a day a week, writing up what you did for the week rather than actually doing it.

The French are ingenious no doubt, but get them together and they get bogged down in the rules and regulations and these become far more important than anything else.

When Sarkozy talks I see a man who is extremely polite yet opinionated. Intelligent and power hungry. It's not a good mix for me. He has come out with some bushisms if you will but of a very serious nature. Google him and read more than one view if you want. Basically he believes in genetic determinism and that is a thought that in my mind should be left back in WW2.


Royale wants to increase the minimum wage. It costs an American company about 3 times as much to employ a French person as it is does an American if I remember my figures from an article about Wall Mart in Newsweek or some such magazine. The problem is the French employee earns about half of what the U.S employee earns.

Are you following me yet. Sarkozy is a Blairite/Thatcherite who will impose an FFI minister. French Identity and Immigration. To teach the immigrants who and what the French are and how France works? Is this fascist or just sensible?

This is the man many will say can get the job done, can pull the number 5 World Power out of it's decades of malaise and basically give it the kick up the backside it needs.

Both of these candidates have talked about National Identity. One talks about working for France leading France and how great France is. The other talks about putting France to work, the people,the unemployed.

I see the logic of giving up all the social stuff, France cannot pay the pensions of the people in it's care. In 20 years time there may well be a geriatric revolution with zimmer frames. But in Truth this Son of an Immigrant Sarkozy scares me while the rest of France frustrates me.

I am afraid my politics is more left than right. More social than capitalist but I damn well understand commerce, and the fact that the world we live in eats, breaths, pisses, and shits profit and loss. That is the reality.

As I have already mentioned Madame Royale may be formidable politically, face to face with someone, but in front of a crowd or camera or a microphone she dissappears into a stilting stone face stepford wife. Sarkozy is like Rumplestillskin in the corner rubbing his hands. He knows only two well she cannot spin all that straw into gold. While he will most likely sell the straw, kill the farm animals, knock down the house and build a supermarket, if you allow the analogy to go so far.
What will the future bring?

The French Elections

I am back. I cannot help it. Firstly apologies to those who posted comments and they were never displayed. I missed the whole thing about the new blogger being away for so long. Yes the elections happened today. If anyone is reading and anyone cares, I gaurantee that the next president of the Republic of France will be Mr Sarkozy. This is the man who said that sex abusers are what they are because of a genetic inheritance. This is the man who wants to establish and committee to define what it means to be French. So if you are Magrebian or non French you can forget ever getting to make a great life here. The new France will in no uncertain terms let you know your faults and be sure that you remember that you are not from here, while you are still paying your taxes.
Royale the left wing opposition, is an elegant woman who cannot speak in public. She cannot smile that she has been elected to the second round. The manner in which she halting delivered her speech of joy tonight was frightening. It was ineptitude on a major scale.
We still do not know what she wants to do as President. It took her about 3 pauses in one phrase to tell us how delighted she was, that France had changed it's political habits with the greatest voter turn out in decades. She should have been jumping for joy but she was calm, staid, silent even for the first 20 seconds. In air time 20 seconds is a long time. The lights went out and she wasn't perturbed neither could she think of something witty to say. What is it with these people who advise her. The speech was slow and stilting and did more to convince people she is incapable on a world stage that anything else. I am sure somewhere she has some good notions, but she doesn't portray it. In the end the French goverment policy of the future will come down to who gets their message across first and who does it best. Madame Royale, you were second tonight and will be for the forseeable future. For which now, I fear greatly.

What's Happening?

On a personal level I continue to be an Irish guy plagued by English people who should know better. At 'The Lord of the Dance', Show on Saturday night, a woman with an English accent kept commenting through the performance. When the female soprano was on Stage singing, the woman somewhere behind me starting making jokes about the words in the song. I had (as usual) had enough. I turned when the song was over. Without thinking I spoke to her in her own accent, 'Are you going to talk all night? ' , 'I beg yer pardin?'She replied. 'Would you please Shut up?' I replied.
I turned away sufficiently pissed off till I heard a male voice over my other shoulder. 'Merci'. I was truly glad. Sometimes I wonder why I let it get to me. Sometimes I wonder why I always have to be the one to say what everyone else is thinking.
The show was great fun, but lacked an easy to follow thread in the first half. Either tell a story or don't. Don't half do it.
At 10 euro for a program and 30 euro for a CD, I was embarrassed to be Irish, and Mr. Flattley? No wonder you are ill charging those prices, shame on you.
On a more serious matter, some of you know I comment on International affairs from time to time. Here is the following for an Irish News site.....Lebanese Minister assassinated. I don't suppose the implied warning would be from the Syrians, to the U.S. who have 'asked' them not to get involved in Lebanon's affairs? Mr. H and Mr. Z, I hope your families are safe and well.

Gaza town stunned by shelling

what justification is there for this.

I told you so

See? It must have been the full moon. I knew something was going on. Donald Rumsfeld, a man whom I thought the Devil Incarnate is gone. Now that is something to be really excited about.
To all those Americans who told all of us Europeans to go and jump, and stop interfering, and to mind our own business, well, see I told you so. Thank you all for kicking them out and hopefully some sanity can come back into the world now. Actually I doubt the Democrats are much better to be honest but I guess it's the best of a bad lot. When are you guys going to get a real democracy?

Turning

Well October and September were at best strange months. My brother in law passed away. It is a story with much beauty in it, that for my dear sister has obviously resulted in much pain, and perhaps it is not right to say the story has finished. Perhaps it is.
It has been a time where much of my doubts and fears had been cast aside. Doubts that had been ingrained due to the end of my relationship with my son's mother. Friends who mean the world to me, took the risk, the time, the effort, and gave the love, and came and visited. When I arrived here three years ago, there were a few people who had come to see me. Now the wheels have turned the very same few people are visiting again, and this time it is even better. You my friend who inspired Galina in my play, ( I promise only the person who understands this will know what I am talking about, anyone else will know I am weird) it was so great to see you and your friend. To hear you laugh, to watch you, to remember what it is like to be in your company, to see you enjoy yourself. How great that you came for a weekend and shared with us. How great that you feel good to come back again when you like. I sincerely hope you do. I still don't know what your parents look like.
My filmmaker friends were here too, Tom and Ann. I mention them because they are already famous on this blog and will be famous soon when you all click on the rascal film link or the James Connolly one in the side bar. (I can't remember which one, and I don't have it open just yet.) it was too short, they will be back. A sister in law, ( what do you call a sister in law who is your brothers ex? She is not sister ex in law is she?) who badly needed a holiday came to visit. I think it did her the world of good. It is difficult to get out of the mind set that it is not going to rain tomorrow. It is strange for us Irish here at the beginning. We read the sky and think, it will be a good day tomorrow. Tomorrow stretches into days, stretches into weeks, stretches into months and there is no rain. Then one day, there is a smell, something familiar, one looks at the sky and predicts rain within the hour. Fifty Five minutes later the heavens open and the locals look at you weirdly. It is what happens when you grow up in Ireland, but it only happens in the South of France.
I was on my back for almost a week after doing some more damage to my muscles by lifting an empty plastic bowl. Yes I can hear the howls of laughter but it is true.
I am more relaxed in myself but somehow my body is telling me things are wrong. My skin is falling off. I look like I have been beaten up sometimes or at best slapped hard. I have a bad skin, simply put. I am taking the steps necessary to sort myself out.
It has got colder. I haven't been swimming and I miss it. Tomorrow I will be at the beach near the Stadium in Monaco, I will be in the water, I will swim.
I met Hadia a few days ago, I had hardly been in touch with her since she left. There was friction between her and us at the start and she is so very proud. Then she rang and asked me to go gaurantor for a flat. I couldn't. How the shoe is on the other foot now. I had so many difficulties during my time alone here, finding a garantor was impossible. See for the moment the bills mount but who knows what lies around the corner? At this present time I am not in the position for her to miss a months rent. I can just about meet my own needs. I too continue to cut the corners for a little while longer. But there is light at the end of the tunnel.
Then Ken, who know the guy, who first went to Nice, then Croatia, then Denmark and then Back to the U.S. rang out of the blue. So howdy buddy. Get your ass back here. I didn't speak long, we were in the airport in Nice, I have just realised he was in the airport too, but in Virginia. See the point is I have a feeling of the wheel turning now. It's a feeling I haven't had for a while, movement in the right direction. Closure to many things but not all. There it is again, that line from the Elvis Presley song.......'and the world turns'. Cycles and full moons, and it is a full moon as I write. The value of Friendship cannot be estimated, but it has nothing to do with money.