Smiling Now...At Times

As returning Epics know, I have always loved Hartsfield airport in Atlanta.  One of my favorite restaurants is there.  I have met many new friends there.  They have a tremendous sculpture exhibit from Africa there in the tunnel between the A and T concourses.  Returning Epics also know what a year this has been for me thus far.

But even in a maelstrom the wind eventually calms and the clouds eventually begin to part, if only intermittently.  Sun peeks through.  In the last sixteen weeks I have not only been through the worst emotional battering of my life but I have met a couple of superb new friends, had a few priceless trips, and I have even had some memorable social events.

I sat up in bed a couple of days ago during a tremendous trip to New York and realized that I felt better.  Just a little.  As if my internal compass had re-calibrated.  That made me smile.  But the next day I had to return to reality.  I was concerned that my re-calibration might not survive the trip.

Then I happened through the Hartsfield tunnel between the B and A concourses. Where I ran upon the most amazing sculpture that lines the entire ceiling.  It simulates tropical tree cover as you stroll along beneath it.  Full of lush colors and light.  With little spots where video panels show sky and birds flying about.  With audio of bird calls.  I really cannot adequately describe this marvelous work of art.  Or its effect on people of all ages.  Both children and adults were just standing looking up at different points.  Taking photos or video.  Or just staring with big grins on their faces.  Including me. My fears of losing my New York smile vanished when I saw this sculpture.  In an airport tunnel.  A true Epic experience which carried the lovely memories of my trip forward.  Undimmed.  Smiling still.

One Outstanding Bluetooth Gadget--From BLACKBERRY???!!!

I am thankful that I have a pretty great car.  The first new car I have ever owned.  And it has lots of cool gadgets typical for the price range.  One thing mystified me however.  The Bluetooth telephone connection for my cell phone is instantaneous and perfect in my car.  Not so for the music on my phone.  I have a new cell phone too, that my son described as "sick".  So I suppose that is very good.  But the music on my phone will not play on the car audio system.

One night when I had NOTHING better to do I ran this problem on Google and discovered that it is pretty common.  It made me feel good to see that there are cars costing a LOT more than mine that have the same problem.  Some sort of electrobabble about different types of Bluetooth signals or whatever.  No amount of Scotch was going to make that interesting. In one of the comments to a post about this issue however a fellow mentioned that Blackberry made a little device that, when plugged into the accessory jack in his car allowed his phone to play over his audio system.  I looked for the gadget on Amazon and saw it was under $30.00!!!! [It is under $20.00 today.]  Of course I "one clicked" it and it was winging its way to the hinterlands.

I have to say, this thing, whatever it is, works perfectly.  It is the size of a large pack of matches, requires no tech savvy to start using, doesn't take up any room, and does exactly what it is supposed to do.  I LOVE IT.  It allows me to play all my cell phone tunes through my car audio and I can also stream Pandora or Slacker or whatever through the car too using this and the app on my phone.

This little thing comes with the highest EPIC recommendation!!!  Trust me, if I can use it ANYONE can use it.  Enjoy!!

Epic Recharging: One Outstanding Song

Today seemed like a pretty ordinary day.  Some work out of town.  Some success. Some failure.  The usual.  When I got back to the house, my son the Future Rock Star asked if he could come along on a trip to the grocery store.  On the way he plugged his phone into my car's audio system.  And he started playing Frank's version of Blue Moon.

"Say Dad, do you think we can cover this?"

A sideways glance from your Epic.

"Absolutely".

So we did.  We sang it all the way through.  We sounded great.  I don't know what is happening.  I think my life is now perfect.  And complete.

Epic Recharging #4: One Perfect Thing

To understand this story, you must also understand my golf clubs.  And my heritage.  My dad was a golf professional.  One day when I was in my late teens, and probably not going to grow any more, my dad gave me a set of custom made golf clubs.  By THE custom maker of the age.  Stan Thompson.  Of Beverly Hills.  Woods made of wood.  Persimmon to be exact.  The best.  Forged irons of a slender design known as "blades".  A design favored then by professionals and the most advanced clubs available at the time.  I loved those clubs more than almost anything.  Because I hit them well.  Because I love golf. And mostly because my dad gave them to me.

Time passed.  Golf technology rocketed ahead along with everything else. My back became much less limber than in my teen years.  I played golf a lot, then less, then little, as life's duties overtook me.  When I did get a chance to play a round of golf, people would look at my clubs with amazement and ask why I used such "outdated" equipment that "hindered" my game.  My typical reply was that as little as I was playing the clubs were hardly the reason for my ballooning scores.  The real answer was....I love the game, I love the clubs, and my Dad gave them to me.

Then 2014 happened.  The return reader will recall that last year was brutal for me and my family. After returning from a particularly harrowing out of town medical trip with my wife, I sat down one night and promised myself that I would start playing golf again on a regular basis.  Just one round per month.  I had to do something for myself and it was a small step in the right direction.

And I kept my promise to myself.  One round at a time.  One month at a time. I even tried to practice once in awhile inspired by my son finding it fun to go to the driving range.  A strange thing happened.  Even though "hindered" by my clubs by my age and by my general state of deconditioning my swing felt better than it ever had.  More compact.  More....systematic.  At times I found myself hitting shots that I had never been able to hit before.  Some really great ones.  I was still playing pretty mediocre golf overall, but ...there was something there I had not had in the past.

Advance the clock to earlier this month.  I had the opportunity to play a round of golf at one of the great golf clubs in the Chicago area with some very good pals.  I admit I was pretty burned out and frazzled when the trip began.  Once we arrived however we found ourselves in a beautiful day out on a classic golf course.  I was playing a mediocre round, typical for me these days.  Somewhere on the back nine we came to a long par four which was pretty much straight away.  I managed to block my tee shot to the right.  WAY to the right.  Off-the-correct-hole-onto-some-other- hole kind of right. Using the fancy pants new metal driver my brother was kind enough to give me last year.

When I got to my ball, I found myself looking at a shot over some bordering trees about 195 yards to the green.  I am not generally recognized as a tremendously long hitter of the golf ball so I was pondering what club to hit when a couple of college golfers came up.  They were actually supposed to be on the hole where my tee shot ended up.  Nice young fellows.  Sharp looking.  Sparkly new style clubs.  Gentlemen, they stood back a bit to allow me to hit my shot first.  I needed a wood to cover the distance to the green but an iron to get over the trees.  I decided to hit a three iron, my longest distance iron club and one of the hardest of my clubs to hit.  A bit short for the distance at that.  The college men eyed my club as I pulled it from my bag.

"Say, sir, are those blades you're hitting?"

Yes, they sure are.

"Those are antiques aren't they?"

Politely said and a legitimate question.  Chuckling, I had to agree.  The thought had never occurred to me before.  Of course they had been in my bag for several decades when they didn't qualify as antique.

I took my stance and addressed the ball.  Put my good tight swing on it.  Kept my head dead still. And I flushed it.  As soon as I hit it I knew it was as good as I could do.  I followed through to see the ball arcing high over the tree line straight at the flag on the green.  The green on the hole where I was supposed to be playing. It settled down quite nicely about four feet from the cup.  An electric thrill shot through me.  I couldn't help it.  I stuck that antique three iron in the air and just stared upward for a moment in triumph.  A fifty-six year old showing off to his Dad.

"Sir, that was one GREAT shot."

Two thumbs up from the college varsity crowd who then went on about their way.  I missed the putt for birdie, but I was completely rejuvenated by hitting a perfect golf shot.  One so pure, so fitted to the need of the moment, that I am confident I have never hit one better in my life.  That moment took years off of my emotional fatigue.  Due to the magic of One Perfect Thing, for one perfect moment, I felt like my Dad.  

That golf shot was fortuitous.  When you are strung out and feeling low I cannot recommend the deployment of One Perfect Thing highly enough.  It may be a great tie you haven't worn in a long time.  A scoop of your favorite ice cream in a flavor you haven't had in ages. A long look into the eyes of a loved one.  Or just getting lucky while doing something you love and being in the moment enough to recognize it when it happens.  Find a Perfect Thing.  They are out there for us all.

A Republic

Lady in the street (1787):  Doctor Franklin, is it a Republic or a Monarchy?

Franklin:  A Republic madam.....if you can keep it.

Lets keep it.

Please.

Epic Recharging #2: Fix Something

It is a funny thing. My son is soon to be 18 years old. In a blink of an eye things turned 180 degrees from him running up to me saying "Daddy, look what I can do" to me hoping to get his attention and at times trying to illustrate the notion "Son, look what I can do". One of those "great circle of life" things the great sages of toddler dinosaur stories speak at length about.

When I was a Senior in High School, they had a couple of classes that were actually useful. Like electronics. Where we learned how to solder [do they even DO that any more?] and wire a lamp. Things like that. They don't "waste" their time on this sort of thing any more it seems at least where I live. In the event, as I was sitting in a sort of blue funk a couple of days ago, the Future Rock Star came up with one of his stereo speakers. Both wires connecting it to the stereo unit had broken in some teen misadventure or another. [Do they even MAKE speakers with WIRES any more?].

Dad, is there any way this can be fixed?

Sure. Shouldn't be much of a problem.

How much do you think the stereo place will charge to fix it?

Oh, we don't have to take it anywhere....I can fix it.

You CAN?

Um, yes. Actually I can.

He peered at me suspiciously apparently waiting for the punch line. When none arrived he handed over the speaker. Both wires broken VERY close to the cabinet as you can see in the photo above. Microsurgery time. So I got out the roll of electrical tape [they DO still make this but it isn't easy to find] and a needle nose pliers and I went to work. Oh, and of course as opposed to the era of my High School electronics adventures I now had to get my out glasses too. After a few failed attempts to wind the short stubs of wire together and then a few more failed attempts to get small slices of tape around the twisted wires to bind them the surgery was a success and the patient actually survived to pump out old school rap music for another day....

The FRS was very appreciative and if I do say so, somewhat amazed. I felt about a foot taller. See? I can do things. I can also make a perfect martini. Which I am now going to do. Two tangible things accomplished in ONE day. I am climbing out of the fog.

Frank's Day

Happy Birthday Frank.  It's still your world and we just live in it.

"I'm gonna live...Till I die"

A Young Man And A Trip: Wisconsin Chapter 3

Two years ago, my then 14 year old son The Future Rock Star, astounded me by asking if he and I could take a winter trip to Wisconsin so he could learn about where I grew up.  It was a tremendous trip.  We did it again last year.  I am now addicted to this event and I look forward to it from the time of our return after a week up North each year.

Due to the vicissitudes of public school calendars, the week before Christmas that was listed as vacation for the FRS when I booked this trip in August had to my dismay become exams week by Thanksgiving.  The FRS was crushed, at least as much as a young man of 16 will allow himself to show.  We went anyway, staying for three nights.  At least that was the plan.

We had surprisingly easy flying, enjoying a typically fine meal at One Flew South in the Atlanta airport before landing at O'Hare in Chicago late Friday evening.  It was snowing when we landed and it continued the entire trip.  When we checked into our hotel in Wisconsin, the photo above was the general look of things.  We couldn't have been more excited about our prospects for the weekend. In our room we found evidence of what I consider a nice trend in some hotels....a little seasonal toy to brighten up the evening...

A touching item in the opinion of this seasoned traveler anyway.  When we are in Wausau, Wisconsin we always go to the Great Dane brew pub for dinner.  They make superb beers at the Great Dane and the food is amazing also.  I had a seasonal Pumpkin Ale and a German Sausage Platter while the FRS had a "light" appetizer of fried cheddar cheese curds followed by a great looking Jagerschnitzel platter.  Oh for a teen metabolism!!!

I sprung a surprise on the FRS at dinner that evening...that we were going to his first-ever Green Bay Packer game at legendary Lambeau Field the next day!!  He was astounded and very excited.  It would be my first Packer home game since I was younger than he is.

Here is the view out the window on Sunday morning...

Time to hit the road for the hour and twenty minute drive to Green Bay.  Here is a tip.  Line up stadium parking in advance.  This web site was really great and we got parking a block from Lambeau Field with a very nice fellow helping us out when we got there.  We donned all the cold weather Packer gear we owned...

...then we bought some more.  With proper equipment, the weather made the trip.  Without proper gear, disaster would have ensued.  But I knew this from growing up in the area so we were well prepared.  We rounded the corner and ...

...a snowy Vince Lombardi greeted us at the stadium atrium entrance.  We wandered around the tailgate area for a while but the wind began to whip the snowflakes into a blizzard so we decided to seek refuge inside the atrium...

...an excellent spot with the huge Packer gift shop, several places to get food and drink, and a bluegrass band.  We were watched over by a pantheon of Packers...

...until it was time for the pregame gates to open and we went to our seats.  It was a little over ten degrees [F] when we went into the stadium proper with snow and a howling wind.  The "frozen tundra" indeed.

The glamour of being an NFL cheerleader loses something in a blizzard...and in a snow-suit...

We procured souvenir programs...

...and funny stick-masks of Aaron Rodgers' face...[he didn't play]...

The stick-masks helped block the wind.  A little.  Balaclava masks made from micro-fleece did a MUCH better job.  The big scoreboard televisions showed a perfect picture for replays and reminded us of our glorious history as thirteen time champions...

As I said, we lost a close game that we should have won.  It was so cold that I didn't even try to take a photo during the game because that would have entailed removing my gloves. All in all though we were very comfortable during the game.  Let me say again, long underwear and those balaclavas were essential.

The hour-plus drive back to Wausau in the dark after the game was over a snowy highway with only two tire tracks in one lane open.  Luckily lots of Packer fans were making the drive in a long caravan so the tracks stayed open and nobody was speeding or trying to pass.  Sketchy driving for Dad, even with my Norwegian genetics and [long unused] winter driving skills.  Safely back at our hotel, the FRS hit the shower and declared that he was not going out for dinner so I sallied forth for take-out.  Which, luckily, landed me at Treu's Tic Toc Club, one of the great Wisconsin bars you will ever find...

There was a lot of snow outside the night in question.  The inside of Treu's is a warm shelter from even the most significant Wisconsin storm...

Treu's even has festive holiday décor...

And great hot beef sandwiches and of course Bratwurst.  But on this blizzard of a night, the best thing was that the bartender was featuring Tom and Jerry cocktails, my favorite winter defroster.  One of those and I was ready to carry food back to the FRS.  A perfect trip completed [other than the football loss of course].  Or so I thought.

At the airport the next morning this was the view outside the concourse window...

This was the BEST it got all morning...as flights were cancelled and delayed and delayed and cancelled.  All for good reason I might add. I have never understood the anger of fellow travelers when an airline refuses to launch them off into a hurricane, thunderhead or blizzard.  In the event, it became increasingly obvious that if we stuck to the plan of flying home [it was December 23] we stood a serious chance of not being able to fly on our appointed day, nor on the worst flying day of any year, Christmas Eve.  As a result, we stood a significant chance of not being home for Christmas. 

I looked at him.  He looked at me.  Two words formed simultaneously for each of us.  Just like the classic scene in Animal House. 

ROAD TRIP.

We abandoned the airport before the rest of the stranded hoard [who were soon hot on our tails] and rented a superb SUV.  Then we drove it all the long way home.  Well, I drove it.  Along with my excellent little $100 GPS unit. The FRS provided in-flight entertainment with sports trivia and by using the Shazam app to identify obscure songs on the radio when we couldn't guess what they were.  That happened quite a bit actually.

Wisconsin,
Illinois,
Arkansas,
Missouri,
Mississippi,
Alabama

Twenty hours.  We did have to spend the night of the 23d in deep downstate Illinois because of our late start leaving Wisconsin.  By all accounts, a grueling drive.  But it was tremendous fun.  An unexpected two days of extra dad/son bonding.  An Epic gift of the highest order.  We arrived home at 9:30pm on December 24.  The condition of the truck told it all...

But we made it, safe and sound.  Possessed of memories we both will cherish the rest of our lives.  A superb Christmas present.  I can't wait to do it all over again next year.

Cadillac Day

I did something today that I have never done.  I bought myself a brand new car.  Not just a car.  A Cadillac.  With all the toys.  The first new car of my life.  Why not?  I'm old enough.  And I have worked very hard for this day.  Why not?

My Dad was born in 1925.  Unlike me, a real car guy.  As I drove off the sales lot, I couldn't help but think............

Dad would have been SO excited.  His eldest son going to buy a brand new Cadillac. 

He has been gone ten years now.

My long kept bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape is being broken out tonight.  It is a very special day.  Why not? 

The Epic Kitchen: One Great Gadget

The pineapple is not the gadget.  The pineapple corer in the second photo is.  I was watching television way too late at night and saw a presentation on a shopping channel for this thing and I just gave in and bought it.  I love fresh cut pineapple but I hate fooling around with the raw item.  This gadget was not too expensive and works PERFECTLY as advertised.  All you have to do is to cut the top off the pineapple with a knife.  Then you put the business end of the gadget on top of it and twist it down as far as you can.  This is the business end...

Then you pull out the pineapple fruit like a cork from a wine bottle.  The pineapple is cut into rings and the core of the fruit is left inside the husk!!

You just push the red button, the handle comes off, and you tip it over and slide the rings off the gadget...

If you cut out the core, the husk is perfect for use as a wild Tiki glass, or you can use it as a centerpiece and put 50s style tooth picks into the outside with cocktail sausages on them and fill the inside with sauce....your imagination is your only limit!

I don't go for many kitchen gadgets but this one is Epic!!!

Epic Cookery: Tuna Steak Au Poivre Et Au Citron

There are times when I really crave a tuna steak.  When I do, and I am pressed for time, I like to make Epic Tuna Au Poivre at Au Citron.  Even my son the Future Rock Star loves this dish.  I warn you though, my photos of it look lousy.  The actual finished product is really good. 

Start by greasing up a small cast iron fry pan with olive oil.  In a pinch, a good pie pan will do.  Set the oven at about 350 or use the broiler. Get a nice piece of tuna steak and wash it off well then pat it dry with paper towels...this is a very nice piece I got from the local grocer...

You don't need fancy spices for this dish...just a pepper grinder, and dried orange or lemon peel, or both depending on how tropical you feel...

 

 

Sometimes I feel like melting butter, most times I am trying to be fat conscious when I make this healthy dinner so I use butter substitute.  Since I am not cooking the fish in the butter, it doesn't matter if you use the substitute and it tastes fine to me.  Let it stay out to get to room temperature.  Of course you need sea salt...

Personally, I can't tell the difference between types of salt, but this comes in a cool grinder and it makes me feel like more of a chef.  As the stove heats up, crank some salt, coarse ground pepper, and citrus peel onto the tuna...

A glass of nice Sauvignon Blanc or Cotes Du Rhone right about here can't hurt things. 

Then put the tuna into the oven and cook it as long as you like it cooked.  In the meantime, swill some more wine and pour a nice pool of the "butter" onto your serving plate and grind more pepper and citrus peel onto it.  A few dots of lemon juice in this pool doesn't hurt either...

Drink some more wine.  When the tuna is cooked the way you prefer, carefully lay the steak on top of your pool of "butter".  Et Voila...

Add some sauteed spinach that you could have been making and some mashed potatoes and you are ready to dine in Epic style.  The "butter" sauce is a perfect compliment to the peppery/citrusy tuna steak.  Along with more of that open bottle of wine, of course.  Hey, this meal is healthy enough...you may as well have a nice bottle to go along with it.  Enjoy!!

Epic Cookery: Smoked Salmon CHOWDAH!!!

I love chowder, but I have never attempted making it myself.  Until tonight.  To celebrate a visit from my mom I thought I would try making this smoked salmon chowder from the New York Times Magazine [February 17 number]. The only thing I changed was that I added a couple of chopped slices of pre-cooked bacon.  Also, I skipped adding flour to the initial saute of vegetables for fear that I would scorch it.  In place of the flour I dissolved two tablespoons of corn starch in a little cold water and stirred it in.  I worked fine.  The result of this easy recipe was a super-luxurious, silky chowder which got rave reviews. Use of smoked salmon really elevates this chowder above others I have tried. In fact,  I may not make any other sort of chowder in the future.  I may open a chowder truck.  In short, I loved this dish and I think you will too.

The wine I used to make the chowder was a ten dollar bottle of Elki Sauvignon Blanc...

...a Chilean label which was new to me but which was nice and crisp and perfect for not only making the chowder, but for sipping while cooking and drinking along with the finished product.  Add a nice crunchy baguette and you have the perfect winter meal.  Even my French sous-chefs agreed...

Try this fantastic chowder for a date, or for an indulgent solo meal.  You will be glad you did.

Paris: Touring and Shopping Before Taillevent

After a night filled with the glories of Burgundian food and wine and late hour Calvados drinking, I had to get moving earlier than usual Thursday morning for a very important meeting.  A tete a tete.  If, that is, you can have a tete a tete with a person you have not met before.  I was heading to a cafe on the Rue Soufflot near the Pantheon to meet a young woman I would recognize only by her long red hair.  As she put it in an email, I could not miss noticing her because red hair stands out in Paris.  She was certainly right. I recognized her immediately as she strolled toward my outdoor table and gave me a bright grin...

Before my readers think my day was turning strongly toward the louche, a bit of background may be in order.

About a month before my departure for Paris, I was having cocktails in celebration of my birthday with one of my best pals and his daughter.  These two are multi-generational Epic material without question.  They arrived at the bar already pretty well aglow from another event. The best sort of pals.  I have referred to dad before in these annals as Streak.  He calls his grad student daughter LuLu. I don't know if she likes that or not.  In any event, the upcoming trip to Paris was discussed in detail. At some point, LuLu asked if I would mind her giving my contact information to a friend of hers who was going to school in Paris, just in case I needed anything while I was there. I thought the idea a sound one. The voyageur never knows when he will be in need of a medical referral, posting of bail, or some other essential.  When I arrived in France I was armed with the email address and cell number for AH and we had made a date to meet after she finished her term exams so she could show me around the Latin Quarter from the student/resident perspective. The day was one of the best times of my trip.

We hit it off right away as AH is a delightful young woman, well travelled and fluent in French.  We had a wonderful morning as she showed me around her Paris.  The very first place we visited was the church of Saint Etienne Du Mont, near by the Pantheon.  This was quite a thrill for me since it is a very beautiful church...

...but it is also the site of the steps where Owen Wilson's character is picked up by F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda in the vintage limousine in Midnight In Paris...

...since as I have related before, Midnight In Paris was the genesis of my trip, seeing the steps was a special treat.  We also accidentally wandered by another M.I.P. location...

...the Duluc detective agency that Wilson's awful putative father in law visits in order to hire a spy.  I actually did not recognize this sign from the movie until after I returned home, I just took the photo because the sign looked so cool and Bogartian.  In any event, AH and I went by Laduree for a bag of macarons which we ate while sitting on the Pont des Arts [the first photo above shows them just before consumption!]...

My favorite was the pistachio/violet macaron. We went to the Place des Voges looking for Catherine Deneuve.  She didn't appear but it is a lovely place to sit...

We saw some very odd store windows... 

One or two classic galleries...

...some really great vintage shops...

Fountains and plazas...

Stylish recycling bins...

And the craziest public toilet I have ever seen...

...totally Star Trek.  When you get inside this thing the door slides shut behind you.  You fear that some form of launching is imminent. After you are finished, a voice tells you to wash your hands and the water starts running in the sink!  Then the door slides open and you leave.  The door closes after you exit and the entire inside of the hut is subjected to some form of steaming or cleansing.  In any event, these things are a great invention.  They work perfectly, are sparkling clean, and are a mile above the "portapotties" you see in the U.S.  I got a good laugh out of my guide when I said the toilet reminded me of the "orgasmatron" in Woody Allen's classic movie "Sleeper". 

After all this excitement and adventure, we realized it was time for lunch and I treated my new friend to a bottle of Bordeaux and roasted duck at the cafe with the green awning shown below in the Marais district...

I had a light lunch of a salad and an excellent omelet aux fines herbs.  This was necessary because I had a nine p.m. dinner reservation that evening at Taillevent and I was anticipating an Edwardian feed.  Over luncheon talk of exams, careers, marriage and children, I asked AH if she could help me on a special mission.  Being a true Epic, she was immediately intrigued.  As I explained the details, she became more and more interested in the project...

This was my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary year.  Since I have known the Irish Redhead, she has wanted a modestly sized quilted black leather Chanel purse.  I vowed to myself that I was not coming back from Paris without one.  Being a romantic, I wanted a vintage one, something a Parisian lady of the 1960's would have carried.  The Marais and its extensive collection of vintage boutiques was just the spot to search.  AH was to play the role of the spoiled young woman.  My role was as the bored older fellow paying the bill.  Stoked with very good wine and a long lunch we strolled the Marais and eventually found the perfect shop displaying several vintage Chanel purses in the window. We pushed open the shop door and encountered the young man who was apparently the proprietor. 

It didn't seem strange to the shop owner that a 53 year old man would come into the shop with a well dressed, attractive 25 year old woman.  Odd.  In any event, this was a really great little store, crammed front to back with vintage designer gowns and accessories.  AH wandered the single aisle poking a finger at a dress or two.  I gazed disinterestedly out the window.  Eventually, AH asked in her fluent French for a purse from the window which was not the one she knew I wanted.  The fellow procured the decoy purse and she looked at it with disdain.  A very rapid exchange in French followed which from its tone seemed centered around how insulted my friend was to have been presented with such an item.  AH finally stopped speaking and stared at the man, then fluttered her fingers in a gesture that could only mean she wanted the offending purse removed from her sight for all time.  I tell you, this young woman was GOOD.  If her career in international relations doesn't suit her for whatever reason, she has a fine career on the stage to fall back upon.  Eventually, she gave out a deep sigh and summoned the man again.  Another exchange in French brought her the purse I had my eye on.  The shopkeeper seemed much more wary of AH by now.  Smart guy.  He was probably thinking of the line from the movie The Quiet Man: "that red hair is no lie".  Another barrage of French, too fast for me to understand.  AH seemingly weary and losing interest.  The owner retreated to the rear of the store.  I turned to hear the verdict.  AH whispered "this is authentic and it is PERFECT.  It can't have been used very much.  If he has the Chanel registration card for it, this is the one."  The card was produced and haggling ensued.  We left the shop, the ultimate Parisian gift in hand.

This all happened in April.  My plan was to keep the purse under wraps until our anniversary in September.  When I got home, I walked into the house and immediately handed it to the I.R., who gave an uncharacteristic squeal. She was beside herself with glee.