April 19 ‘Birthday Bud-notso-wiser’

Want to shout out a great friend’s birthday today via an appropriate story (and a couple of books). Firstly, there is the book “So You Want to be An Airline Stewardess” by Keith Saunders published 1973. Another dear friend (whose birthday is also coming up) is a flight attendant. She made this adventure happen.

In Chapter 21, “the Fringe Benefit that Counts” there is the discussion ‘Space Available’. My flight attendant friend has enabled me to travel to marvelous places (providing I wear tie and slacks, not my shorts and gym shoes). I am forever indebted to her for those adventures.

One such adventure was to the “City of Light”. We were three couples, and had just walked out of Notre Dame cathedral. The girls stopped for a drink, and I took the opportunity to check out Shakespeare and Co., a famous used bookstore right there by the cathedral. I dragged the other two husbands inside-one of which has his birthday on the 19th. They begrudgingly went in.

Books sometimes call out to me, and this one did: “Ale and Beer, a curious history”, 1967 from Canada. Birthday boy is a great beer drinker, and clever-er than anyone-a regular punster. I though that as we sit in cafes drinking, I might trip him up on his knowledge. I would need the help of this book; He is just that smart and quick-witted.

I felt great with the choice, and went to the French lady at the register.

“You are American, no?” She spat out.

I nodded, but with a quizzical smile.

“Pfffft. You come to France to buy a book on beer?”

“Yyyes,” I stuttered. “My friend here loves beer,” I turned to point to my friends, but they had exited the building, and left me horribly alone.

“Pfffft. Do you Americans not know of French wine?”

“Yyyes. But…I have enjoyed a Kronenbourg 1664 (French beer) just today near Pere Lachaise cemetery,” I weakly stammered.

“Pfffft. And you saw that American… Morrison… buried there, no?”

“Yes, but also I saw-“

“Pfffft!” She cut me off, handing me my change.

So, joyeux anniversaire to Matt. For me just trying to be a little smarter than him, I incurred the wrath of the damn French. I hadn’t gotten upset about no “la glace” for my Rum and Cokes. I hadn’t gotten upset eating “Fromage de chèvre” when I thought I ordered a BLT. But this…damn…

So I drank Stella Artois for the rest of the trip because I thought the French didn’t get along with the Belgians. And then we went to McDonalds, and I ordered a beer and French fries.

Pfffft.