Sitting out on my balcony as I write today's blog; enjoying a perfectly beautiful day, clear skies, green leaves have almost fully returned to the trees in waiting, and the aroma of wisteria faintly saunters on the currents of a gentle breeze.
As you know, I am without a car here in France. Texas finally reciprocates with France on the driver's license, so being able to drive legally is no hassle. Nonetheless, I have elected to do without a car, as I can get along without one with respect to commuting, and a rental is available at the end of any "voyage par TGV". I take the bus to work, the 395, from the Mairie de Sceaux (city hall) to Bois Brule in Clamart. From the Bois Brule stop, I walk 5-7 minutes to the office. On Monday, I encountered snow between the Bois Brule stop and the office. Yes, white stuff on the sidewalk, white stuff in the air. Fortunately, it was not also cold and wet. One of the trees in bloom begins its spring completely covered in tiny white petals, no bigger than your fingernail. There was a gentle breeze and the fallen petals covered the sidewalk -- it did look like snow -- and as I walked under the tree, the breeze kicked up just enough to create a shower of white petals -- falling snow. It was the only snow I really enjoyed this year, I can assure you of that.
Our office here has a cantine (cantina, cafeteria), as our building is also part of the engineering and manufacturing facilities here. Rather than send a few hundred people out in their cars to the always busy roads and streets of greater Paris, we have a cantine. It is very efficient, as we can be in and out in 30-40 minutes total, but it does not always seem like a break -- lunch, yes, the food is quite good, but a break? Not always. I have a couple of American coleagues here, and we leave campus once a week to get a real lunch-break. There is a place only a 10 minute walk from here which is a pizzaria and creperie. Pizza and crepes. Not a combo I would imagine, but hey, ca marche (French expression for "it works", literal meaning "it walks")! Oddly, both the pizzas and the crepes are quite good here, though I only partake of the crepes maybe once a month (I do not want them to "hang around" while I run). We have gotten to know the waitress (there is only she and the cook for about 20 tables), and she knows our order for pizza and drinks without asking, though every now and then I change things up just to keep the experience fresh for all parties...cheap entertainment, I know. It makes for a pleasant break and head-clearing exercise, which is its primary purpose.
Speaking of the office, here are the countries represented on the HQ's floor:
French Morocco
Vietnam
Turkey
France
USA
Algeria
India
Trinidad
United Kingdom
Ireland
Egypt
Italy
Scotland
Peru
As you know, I am without a car here in France. Texas finally reciprocates with France on the driver's license, so being able to drive legally is no hassle. Nonetheless, I have elected to do without a car, as I can get along without one with respect to commuting, and a rental is available at the end of any "voyage par TGV". I take the bus to work, the 395, from the Mairie de Sceaux (city hall) to Bois Brule in Clamart. From the Bois Brule stop, I walk 5-7 minutes to the office. On Monday, I encountered snow between the Bois Brule stop and the office. Yes, white stuff on the sidewalk, white stuff in the air. Fortunately, it was not also cold and wet. One of the trees in bloom begins its spring completely covered in tiny white petals, no bigger than your fingernail. There was a gentle breeze and the fallen petals covered the sidewalk -- it did look like snow -- and as I walked under the tree, the breeze kicked up just enough to create a shower of white petals -- falling snow. It was the only snow I really enjoyed this year, I can assure you of that.
Our office here has a cantine (cantina, cafeteria), as our building is also part of the engineering and manufacturing facilities here. Rather than send a few hundred people out in their cars to the always busy roads and streets of greater Paris, we have a cantine. It is very efficient, as we can be in and out in 30-40 minutes total, but it does not always seem like a break -- lunch, yes, the food is quite good, but a break? Not always. I have a couple of American coleagues here, and we leave campus once a week to get a real lunch-break. There is a place only a 10 minute walk from here which is a pizzaria and creperie. Pizza and crepes. Not a combo I would imagine, but hey, ca marche (French expression for "it works", literal meaning "it walks")! Oddly, both the pizzas and the crepes are quite good here, though I only partake of the crepes maybe once a month (I do not want them to "hang around" while I run). We have gotten to know the waitress (there is only she and the cook for about 20 tables), and she knows our order for pizza and drinks without asking, though every now and then I change things up just to keep the experience fresh for all parties...cheap entertainment, I know. It makes for a pleasant break and head-clearing exercise, which is its primary purpose.
Speaking of the office, here are the countries represented on the HQ's floor:
French Morocco
Vietnam
Turkey
France
USA
Algeria
India
Trinidad
United Kingdom
Ireland
Egypt
Italy
Scotland
Peru
Jordan
You can visit around the world in one stroll down from my office...
I went to Moscow this week, my second trip to Russia, but first to Moscow. I was attending a workshop being conducted by our Russia area management. It dealt with geophysics, and it was interesting to talk to them about their business, and listen to them present and describe their ongoing activities. The workshop was done in Russian, but they had arranged an interpreter for me, who translated each presentation in real-time. Fortunately, the slides themselves were in English, with the more complex slides being done mostly in Greek (and other symbols of higher math). It was a good opportunity to get to know the team there, but while it was sunny in Ile-de-France, Moscow was overcast with piles of snow still on the ground, and not one tree had yet budded. I was very happy to get back to Paris and sunshine. I landed at about 6PM (18h00), and traffic was so bad that it took me almost as long to get from the airport to Sceaux as it did to fly from Moscow to Paris! The driver and I chatted a lot, and I had to do it all in French as he spoke very little English -- I even showed him a shortcut back to my apartment, giving him directions as we went along.
Just a side story of my flight to Moscow, if you will...the flight from Paris was packed, mostly with Russians returning from holidays, including a family of five who were seated in my area. The teenage girl and her pre-teen brother drew the short straw and sat next to me. The nationality of these kids could not be picked out of a line-up of American kids. It was kinda cute considering most of our impressions of Russia and its people, coupled with its 20th century political history. Anyway, some of the guys at the office want to form a band just for messing around, and asked me to be a part -- we are just going to do 12-bar blues kinda stuff, with a few extras thrown in for good measures. One of the extras was "Like a Rolling Stone", Bob Dylan's classic, and the song Rolling Stone Magazine calls "the greatest song in the history of rock and roll". The leader of the group was lamenting the words "too many and too complicated to get right", and I said, "no problem, know them all for all verses" (he is not off my generation, about 15 years behind). I was chartered to put the song together. I have a video of Jimi Hendrix playing "Stone" at Monterey in 1968, and decided I would study it for ideas on how to lead out on guitar, and ascertain the structure of his chords, etc. I was watching the video over and over again on my Android smartphone, and the whenever I sat it down on my tray table, the Russian teenager (from Smolensk, I later discovered) would watch it, too. I noticed her interest, and offered to let her listen. Being polite, she refused, but I smiled and insisted, and she broke into a big smile and set the Boze headphones on her head. She was smiling and bobbing to the music in zero-flat. She had seen a picture of Jimi before, but not heard his music until now. She asked if I played guitar, and I said yes, and she asked if I was on television, I laughed and said, no, I just play for fun. She asked what I played, so rather than explain in a language with which we both were struggling (English), I let her listen and watch Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert King perform "The Sky is Crying". She liked it all. It was a nice break from the monotony that is flying, and a fun exchange, both generationally and culturally.
I fly back to the USA this week for business, and will get to meet my grand-daughter for the first time. I am looking forward to that.
Until next time,
Mark
You can visit around the world in one stroll down from my office...
I went to Moscow this week, my second trip to Russia, but first to Moscow. I was attending a workshop being conducted by our Russia area management. It dealt with geophysics, and it was interesting to talk to them about their business, and listen to them present and describe their ongoing activities. The workshop was done in Russian, but they had arranged an interpreter for me, who translated each presentation in real-time. Fortunately, the slides themselves were in English, with the more complex slides being done mostly in Greek (and other symbols of higher math). It was a good opportunity to get to know the team there, but while it was sunny in Ile-de-France, Moscow was overcast with piles of snow still on the ground, and not one tree had yet budded. I was very happy to get back to Paris and sunshine. I landed at about 6PM (18h00), and traffic was so bad that it took me almost as long to get from the airport to Sceaux as it did to fly from Moscow to Paris! The driver and I chatted a lot, and I had to do it all in French as he spoke very little English -- I even showed him a shortcut back to my apartment, giving him directions as we went along.
Just a side story of my flight to Moscow, if you will...the flight from Paris was packed, mostly with Russians returning from holidays, including a family of five who were seated in my area. The teenage girl and her pre-teen brother drew the short straw and sat next to me. The nationality of these kids could not be picked out of a line-up of American kids. It was kinda cute considering most of our impressions of Russia and its people, coupled with its 20th century political history. Anyway, some of the guys at the office want to form a band just for messing around, and asked me to be a part -- we are just going to do 12-bar blues kinda stuff, with a few extras thrown in for good measures. One of the extras was "Like a Rolling Stone", Bob Dylan's classic, and the song Rolling Stone Magazine calls "the greatest song in the history of rock and roll". The leader of the group was lamenting the words "too many and too complicated to get right", and I said, "no problem, know them all for all verses" (he is not off my generation, about 15 years behind). I was chartered to put the song together. I have a video of Jimi Hendrix playing "Stone" at Monterey in 1968, and decided I would study it for ideas on how to lead out on guitar, and ascertain the structure of his chords, etc. I was watching the video over and over again on my Android smartphone, and the whenever I sat it down on my tray table, the Russian teenager (from Smolensk, I later discovered) would watch it, too. I noticed her interest, and offered to let her listen. Being polite, she refused, but I smiled and insisted, and she broke into a big smile and set the Boze headphones on her head. She was smiling and bobbing to the music in zero-flat. She had seen a picture of Jimi before, but not heard his music until now. She asked if I played guitar, and I said yes, and she asked if I was on television, I laughed and said, no, I just play for fun. She asked what I played, so rather than explain in a language with which we both were struggling (English), I let her listen and watch Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert King perform "The Sky is Crying". She liked it all. It was a nice break from the monotony that is flying, and a fun exchange, both generationally and culturally.
I fly back to the USA this week for business, and will get to meet my grand-daughter for the first time. I am looking forward to that.
Until next time,
Mark
