Hankinsense

Le Parapluie

I only have two umbrellas, which is, I suppose, one more umbrella than one really needs at a time. One of them is an ordinary black umbrella and the other is an absurd, vivdly-colored vintage umbrella that looks like a parasol.

I try to use the latter sparingly. But I left the black umbrella by the door a few weeks ago, where it was sucked up into the vacuum known as “my roommates are always moving stuff around that I am trying to use.” Bless them.

“Where is my umbrella?” I grumbled aloud, as I got ready to leave for work . And then, because nobody else was home, I said it louder and in a silly French accent. Like so:

That’s me giggling in the background of the video, which was captured during a particularly surreal night in France. The last night in Les Sables, Bobby and I hung out at the summer home of some French university students that we met on the ramblais. We discussed our cultural variances over Screwdrivers…

…including the first phrases you learn in a foreign language. For us: “Je m’apple Kellen. Où est la bibliothèque?”

For them? Where is Brian? In the kitchen. It is raining today. Where is my umbrella?

All French students of English, they told us, will recognize these phrases immediately. They are the Gallic “See spot run.”

Didn’t find the black umbrella, but the memory made me a little more inclined to carry my silly umbrella to work. Or, as is fitting to call such a gaudy accessory, my “parapluie.”

Here’s Yann Tiersen’s covering Georges Brassens:

“It was raining hard on the main road
She was walking along without an umbrella
I had one, doubtless stolen
That very morning from a friend
Running then to her rescue
I offer her a bit of shelter.
Drying the water from her little face
In a very sweet way, she tells me « Yes »

A little corner of an umbrella
For a bit of heaven”

-Le Paraluie by Yann Tiersen

“Il pleuvait fort sur la grand-route
Ell’ cheminait sans parapluie
J’en avais un, volé, sans doute
Le matin même à un ami
Courant alors à sa rescousse
Je lui propose un peu d’abri
En séchant l’eau de sa frimousse
D’un air très doux, ell’ m’a dit ” oui “

Un p’tit coin d’parapluie
Contre un coin d’paradis.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 9th, 2010 at 3:53 pm and is filed under spare change. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.