 | People find it easy to ridicule France these days, with our Gilets Jaunes and our strikes. But I think France plays an important role in the world community. France is the world’s Hot Mess Friend. |
We’ve all got a Hot Mess Friend, or at least I hope you do. You know the one. Let’s call her Gloria.
Gloria has boyfriend drama. She has family drama. Girlfriend drama. Work drama. She’s always getting fired or sued or stalked or excommunicated. You may have posted bail for her. She lost her bracelet at the movie.
Sometimes you wonder if Gloria is worth it. How could one person get in so much trouble? And often, it’s trouble of her own making. Just let it go, Gloria. Chill.
But then, when you’re down, you know nobody’s got your back like Gloria. When you get a scary medical diagnosis or your loved one dies or you just have a really bad day, nobody understands like Gloria. She’s been there. She’ll bring you soup or cookies or wine or whatever you need. She’ll listen to you, without judgement. She gives hugs, not advice.
Because she’s been there. She’s hit bottom so many times she’s lost count, and she’s bounced back every time. She knows you can, too. You somehow believe her on this.
And Gloria has the best ideas. She’s the one that says hey my ex offered me his lake cabin this weekend so let’s go. So you go and there are twelve other people there that you’ve never met and you grill burgers and play cards and swim and you leave a little sunburned and slightly hungover but you have a lunch date for Thursday and your heart is full and grateful.
Gloria may be a mess, but she’s irreplaceable.
That’s how France is. France is a mess half the time. Our most recent crisis was The Strike. President Macron said he needed to streamline the government workers’ pension plans, and all hell broke loose. Even before he’d said what the plan would be, the eight unions (who all hate each other) called for a general strike. Public transportation screeched to a halt. Flights were cancelled. Taxis and Ubers charged exorbitant amounts picking up the slack. Public radio didn’t work, and played golden oldies instead of the news. Christmas shopping fell by forty percent in downtown Paris. Some workers slept in their offices or shacked up with friends nearby if they couldn’t get home. The Gilets Jaunes movement, which had been dwindling, flared up and threw in a few protests with marches and colored smoke and smashed windows.
The world made fun of us. Headlines shrieked France in Chaos with photos of red-white-and-blue smoke rising from the crowds around République. Americans couldn’t believe Metro drivers wanted to retire at fifty-two.Travel blogs pondered if anybody at all should go to France these days. Brits were mad because the Eurostar didn’t work.
Things have calmed down now. The government held out, the citizenry got tired of the strikes, strikers couldn’t afford any more days off. Nothing was really resolved, and it’s sure to happen again. The French have been storming the castle since the Revolution, and they’ll continue. It’s the way they roll.
The thing is, even with all the drama, France gets by. France thrives. France appreciates beauty and food and poetry and music and art like no other country I know, and it is willing to share that with you.
How does it work? I don’t know. I just know it does work.
You can have the worst day ever, and cross a bridge over the Seine and see the Eiffel Tower light up at dusk, and your heart will catch in your throat and you’ll know everything is going to be okay.
You can be a woman striving for independence, and pass a school with the words Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité emblazoned above the front door, and you will feel truly, truly heard. All you really want is freedom, equality, and the community of your loved ones. France worked for that and got it, so you can, too.
You can go to Monet’s garden at Giverny and walk around a bend in the path and see the bridge with the lily pads and suddenly every Monet painting belongs to you, to your heart--you own them. France will share.
France and Gloria wouldn’t have their highs without their lows. If you’re their friend, you’re lucky. They will tell you about their lows, but they’ll help you get through yours. And the highs are always yours to share.
Gloria has boyfriend drama. She has family drama. Girlfriend drama. Work drama. She’s always getting fired or sued or stalked or excommunicated. You may have posted bail for her. She lost her bracelet at the movie.
Sometimes you wonder if Gloria is worth it. How could one person get in so much trouble? And often, it’s trouble of her own making. Just let it go, Gloria. Chill.
But then, when you’re down, you know nobody’s got your back like Gloria. When you get a scary medical diagnosis or your loved one dies or you just have a really bad day, nobody understands like Gloria. She’s been there. She’ll bring you soup or cookies or wine or whatever you need. She’ll listen to you, without judgement. She gives hugs, not advice.
Because she’s been there. She’s hit bottom so many times she’s lost count, and she’s bounced back every time. She knows you can, too. You somehow believe her on this.
And Gloria has the best ideas. She’s the one that says hey my ex offered me his lake cabin this weekend so let’s go. So you go and there are twelve other people there that you’ve never met and you grill burgers and play cards and swim and you leave a little sunburned and slightly hungover but you have a lunch date for Thursday and your heart is full and grateful.
Gloria may be a mess, but she’s irreplaceable.
That’s how France is. France is a mess half the time. Our most recent crisis was The Strike. President Macron said he needed to streamline the government workers’ pension plans, and all hell broke loose. Even before he’d said what the plan would be, the eight unions (who all hate each other) called for a general strike. Public transportation screeched to a halt. Flights were cancelled. Taxis and Ubers charged exorbitant amounts picking up the slack. Public radio didn’t work, and played golden oldies instead of the news. Christmas shopping fell by forty percent in downtown Paris. Some workers slept in their offices or shacked up with friends nearby if they couldn’t get home. The Gilets Jaunes movement, which had been dwindling, flared up and threw in a few protests with marches and colored smoke and smashed windows.
The world made fun of us. Headlines shrieked France in Chaos with photos of red-white-and-blue smoke rising from the crowds around République. Americans couldn’t believe Metro drivers wanted to retire at fifty-two.Travel blogs pondered if anybody at all should go to France these days. Brits were mad because the Eurostar didn’t work.
Things have calmed down now. The government held out, the citizenry got tired of the strikes, strikers couldn’t afford any more days off. Nothing was really resolved, and it’s sure to happen again. The French have been storming the castle since the Revolution, and they’ll continue. It’s the way they roll.
The thing is, even with all the drama, France gets by. France thrives. France appreciates beauty and food and poetry and music and art like no other country I know, and it is willing to share that with you.
How does it work? I don’t know. I just know it does work.
You can have the worst day ever, and cross a bridge over the Seine and see the Eiffel Tower light up at dusk, and your heart will catch in your throat and you’ll know everything is going to be okay.
You can be a woman striving for independence, and pass a school with the words Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité emblazoned above the front door, and you will feel truly, truly heard. All you really want is freedom, equality, and the community of your loved ones. France worked for that and got it, so you can, too.
You can go to Monet’s garden at Giverny and walk around a bend in the path and see the bridge with the lily pads and suddenly every Monet painting belongs to you, to your heart--you own them. France will share.
France and Gloria wouldn’t have their highs without their lows. If you’re their friend, you’re lucky. They will tell you about their lows, but they’ll help you get through yours. And the highs are always yours to share.
