(Edited version) Allan, you lucky lucky man! To be in that timeless town having the Tuileries all for yourself. On the day that dingbat Drumphus really did what everybody expected but still could not believe. You should have waited with your blog. I fear it pushed him over the threshold. Your piece was the butterfly that flapped its wings and caused a storm in another part of the world. No, I am kidding of course. The casino thug must have been born without reason. And now the hotel hoarder looks at the earth and us and shouts ‘you are fired!

Let’s stand up and sing a sad hymn to Paris and the eggs that can be fried on the pavement of the Paris parks nowadays. In spring…..

I loved Paris

Every time I fry eggs in this timeless town

And I know that the climate is changing

Thanks to that clown, feeling utterly down

More and more do I realize that:

I loved Paris in the spring time

I loved Paris in the fall

I loved Paris in the winter when it drizzeld

I loved Paris in the summer when it sizzled

I loved Paris every moment

Every moment of the year

I loved Paris

Why, oh, why did I love Paris?

I loved the weather there……

*Original lyrics by Cole Porter. Not too good though. A little bit redundant. But I love his music and the unforgettable version of Ella Fitzgerald. I hope Cole and Ella forgive me.

Friend of life and beauty and foe of spoilers of life and beauty. Golden marriage. Grandfather. Pianist and micro poet. Dutch, European.

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