Shall we Strike Today?
No sooner had the bronzed class returned to Paris, registered their children in time for la rentrée scolaire, checked on any new developments in their quartier, signed back-in at work then it was time to participate in one of France’s annual, almost religious events: that being “the strike” – an event sure to warm the hearts and mind of many Frenchman or perhaps anyone who happens to live and work in Paris and who just might need to get from point A to point B in the same day! Well, just as I had suspected, the calm of the summer, the August escape to some remote far off island ushered-in, along with the beautiful changing colors of the leaves up and down the Champs Elysee, the call to man the barricades in a manner of speaking. The clarion call had sounded throughout France and was answered by every self respecting ouvrier who looks to his union for divine pronouncements even before he listens to the Pope. We already witnessed the initial salvo earlier this month which proved to be, as expected, messy some would say ugly but I can only shrug my shoulder. Perhaps I am missing the real beauty of enjoying Paris when there are heavy disruptions in public transport, among other service closings (post office, schools…). Everybody on strike, let’s go! But first perhaps a little glass of red then we can all take to the streets especially those who have been cooped up with their families most of August. I weep for them, truly I do. If you remember at the very heart of this strike was the issue of raising the retirement age from 60 to 62, viewed by some as a draconian measure. I appreciate their concerns and wish them the best unfortunately, I will be able to retire, if I’m lucky, somewhere past 65 years of age. Maybe I should take to the streets.
No sooner had the bronzed class returned to Paris, registered their children in time for la rentrée scolaire, checked on any new developments in their quartier, signed back-in at work then it was time to participate in one of France’s annual, almost religious events: that being “the strike” – an event sure to warm the hearts and mind of many Frenchman or perhaps anyone who happens to live and work in Paris and who just might need to get from point A to point B in the same day! Well, just as I had suspected, the calm of the summer, the August escape to some remote far off island ushered-in, along with the beautiful changing colors of the leaves up and down the Champs Elysee, the call to man the barricades in a manner of speaking. The clarion call had sounded throughout France and was answered by every self respecting ouvrier who looks to his union for divine pronouncements even before he listens to the Pope. We already witnessed the initial salvo earlier this month which proved to be, as expected, messy some would say ugly but I can only shrug my shoulder. Perhaps I am missing the real beauty of enjoying Paris when there are heavy disruptions in public transport, among other service closings (post office, schools…). Everybody on strike, let’s go! But first perhaps a little glass of red then we can all take to the streets especially those who have been cooped up with their families most of August. I weep for them, truly I do. If you remember at the very heart of this strike was the issue of raising the retirement age from 60 to 62, viewed by some as a draconian measure. I appreciate their concerns and wish them the best unfortunately, I will be able to retire, if I’m lucky, somewhere past 65 years of age. Maybe I should take to the streets.
Don’t presume to even think that I have a mole burrowed deep in the CGT, France’s biggest union because I don’t. My source (I can seulement whisper this to you) would trump any mole the CGT thinks they have in the French Government, it comes from someone that I have been developing over time and who is located in the 13th Arrondissement. My source, who I must refer to only a “Beret” runs a corner bistro and perhaps more importantly, possesses excellent hearing and the importance of that I will explain in a moment. We know that round two of strikes is practically decreed because that mean little man, by the name of Nicolas Sarkozy, is sticking to his guns to systematically dismantle France’s pension system thus ending any further joie-de-vivre, cafes will close surely, it will be reminiscent when the US Congress tinkered with the tax code and somehow eliminated the two martini lunch deduction. There was hell to pay and everybody in Washington was in a foul mood and very thirsty. This is foolishness “Beret” assured me, it is a political death wish by any other measure. Witnessing more than a million hard working people out in the streets in cities and towns across France in early September (after the holidays, of course) was not going to change little Nico’s mind one petit peut. If anything, it will be full steam ahead for the unions and the administration.
My little man, looking over his shoulder every so often, told me that the six leading unions will once again rally the faithful to the streets on September 21. It could get ugly especially if you plan on leading a normal life that day. You see, CGT bosses like to hang out at “Beret’s” bistro and naturally a few glasses later, a full meal and the next thing you have are loose lips. Voila. My little man and I get along for some reason and I have never questioned his motives but perhaps the fact that his son is studying engineering someplace in California helps to narrow the divide un peu. I have to be careful and not fully divulge all that I know for fear of compromising my source. I also like the food that Madame prepares in the kitchen. I have drawn many a culinary inspiration from her.
I am preparing myself for the next round of strikes because I too am ready to man the barricades! What a story this will make, my editors are already clamoring for more!