Bonjour, La France

( My Very Twenty First Newsletter)

My 19-year-old recently told me he wished he’d grown up when I did.

“Are you kidding?” I said. “There was so much boredom.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You know how to deal with that.”

He had a point. I was an easily bored kid—but never bored around my friends. I just didn’t enjoy my own company. I was fine in front of a TV, but the options were limited. Taping shows wasn’t a thing yet, and the Walkman was still at least a year away. Luckily, I loved reading. Books got me from June to August, when all my friends were out of town and TV was just reruns.

The summer after ninth grade, I went on an exchange program to France. The setup was ten days of immersive French classes at a community college in western Massachusetts, followed by a few weeks living with a French family in a town I’d never heard of: Sillé-le-Guillaume. Each of us was paired with a host family that had kids.

I loved the community college part. Everyone in my group was funny, smart, and fun—except my roommate, Connie, a girl from San Antonio who forgot to mention she was severely epileptic. I didn’t really know what epilepsy was, and when she had a seizure in the middle of the night, I was pretty sure she was possessed. I’d been binging horror movie reruns on Channel 9 before the trip, so I was primed.

I wanted to talk about it, but Connie was more interested in drinking (not my thing) and making out (which would’ve been my thing, except all the boys were in love with Connie).

When we got to our host families, I immediately missed my group. My French family wasn’t the familiar “absentee parents/kids doing whatever” situation I was used to. Jean-Claude and Martine were young parents with a beautiful two-year-old named Damien. Great job naming, maman et papa—votre enfant est un monstre.

Jean-Claude was never around. Martine was always around. She had to be. In addition to Damien, she ran a daycare out of the house with five or six other toddlers.

To her credit, she never asked me to help. But I didn’t exactly learn a lot of French. Thank god I’d packed every Kurt Vonnegut novel (except Slaughterhouse-Five, which we’d read in school) and every Jane Austen novel (except Pride and Prejudice, same).

Every morning I’d wake up late, eat fresh bread with slabs of butter, and drink a massive bowl of café au lait while I read. Then I’d go back to my room and write long letters to my friends back home. I’d brought several legal pads and filled them with detailed dispatches about everyone from the group—Connie, of course, but also Adam from California, who was smart and liked the same stuff I did. Alicia from Connecticut, who introduced us to “House at Pooh Corner” by Loggins and Messina. And Laura from New Jersey, who insisted Danielle Steel was the greatest writer in the world.

In the afternoons, I’d walk into town through the cobblestoned square and buy an overpriced chocolate bar. If I was low on cash, I’d go early to cash my Traveler’s Cheques. Then I’d return to the house and hole up in my room until dinner.

Dinner conversation wasn’t exactly sparkling. Lots of talk about soccer. Lots about the daycare. 

All this is to say that it took two weeks with a French family to learn how to enjoy my own company, even preferred it. Well, except on my last night, when I taught the whole family how to say “go fuck yourself” in English.

Distractions

Snack

Some say writing is rewriting. I say writing is eating. I’m writing a lot lately and am enjoying it much more with my trusty Sahale snacks.  I discovered these a few years ago when I was trying to include more nuts in my diet but found nuts to be boring.  Sahale mixes nuts with dried fruit and deliciously seasoned glaze.

TV

If you aren’t reading this newsletter now, it had better be because you’re watching Sirens. It’s  one of these summer soap opera numbers where everyone is beautiful and the matriarch is a freak. It’s dark and funny.  And the best part is that Nicole Kidman isn’t in it.  Julianne Moore is.  As is Kevin Bacon.  I also love Meghann Fahy.  You will recognize her.  

Movie

I just rewatched Parasite. If you haven’t seen it, do so. I think it may be the best thriller I’ve ever seen.   Don’t be scared of the Korean; you get used to the subtitles.  Also, the new version is dubbed. But I recommend the original.  

Book

The Overstory by Richard Powers is an ambitious novel–it’s also an ambitious read.  The book weaves together the lives of nine characters and their relationship to trees in a technocentric world.  It’s the perfect book club book.

Something I Learned

I’m sure my kids already know this, but woolly mammoths were walking the earth when the pyramids of Giza were being built.