sitting in a suburb of Paris...

...listening to Emmylou Harris' "Wrecking Ball" album. I am in a hotel in Clamart, France, a "village" that can be described as a suburb of Paris, but also represents a technology center for France. I will be working out of Clamart soon, a very radical change from the 18 years I have spent and largely enjoyed on America's Third Coast: Pam and I have raised our girls there; we've raised our children as other close friends have raised theirs; most of Pam's family has moved there; both our girls and our son-in-law are Aggies (whoop!); we have lots of "old friends" and always seem to be making new ones at the same time (what richness!); we've seen good times and tough times there...

Now, merely an eight hour+ flight east, followed by two of the longest hours I'll ever spend in a taxi, I sit in Clamart, France. In the Grand Hotel du Plessis (48°46'45.99"N 2°15'38.89"E for Google Earth fans), overlooking the intersection of Aristide Briand and Rue de Charles de Gaulle. In two weeks I will repreat this trip, only this time I will be focused on where I will call home (more appropriately, perhaps, "my abode") for the next 2 to 3 years. Will it be in Paris proper, or out here in the Paris 'burbs?

My waiter tonight loves Clamart. He says, "not so many cars, people, or smoke; more quiet here, more green spaces, not so intense -- it is France to me". Quite an endorsement. OTOH, there is no Metro here, you walk or you drive every where for everything (driving here is not high on my priorities), and not a lot of history engulfing you. Still, the thought of walking to work every day has its appeal...

Ah, but Paris, the City of Lights, of which it was said concerning our returning doughboys in 1918-19: "How will we keep them on the farm once they have seen the lights of gay Paris?". I have visited this great and beautiful city eight or nine times, and have often said (though I never thought it would be an option), "Paris is the only city in the world in which I would want to live in the city." Mind you, I am way more comfortable sleeping under the stars where Butch Cassidy and his band once slept, and which is still just as remote today as it was then, but Paris is special. Paris has its wonderful Metro, placing you anywhere in the city in a few minutes; it is rich in history -- one is engulfed by it at every turn; it is lively (with a love for Starbucks, as unholy as that might seem to some French); it represents a 30 to 45 minute commute every day I am in Paris and going to Clamart.

Took an hour-long walking tour of Clamart today, unguided, and required me to ask directions, for which I received immediate help, concluded with a smile (rude Frenchmen??). Clamart has its charms, as my waiter tonight pointed out; I am glad to have this week and the one coming up to make a decision; it is not as easy as I first imagined...