The French "Race Bannon"

26 December 2003 at 17:26 Leave a comment

The story of our move to Paris was epic: to move across any country, but specially a foreign country, brings challenges and amusements that quickly become larger than life.

It was at the end of this long, grueling, but joyful trip, that we faced our biggest challenge. We pulled up in front of our apartment building and there was no place to park a large moving van. To be more accurate, there would have been a place to park a large moving van if one tiny car hadn’t been parked illegally. There were two legal spaces in a row (obviously filled earlier in the day) and then this car. We could have fit in the two spaces, but it is not possible to parallel park a moving van, especially not at midnight after driving all day.

We managed to find a place to wedge the van for the night, though it wasn’t legal either and wouldn’t be convenient to unpack from, and the next morning we looked out the window, hopeful, expectant, and the transgressor car was still in the way. For 3 hours we waited for cars to shift, bb in the moving van with a cell phone, me at the window on alert, until a place could be found in front of the building, and that sinful car never budged. Nor did it get a ticket.

That car is burned into my memory from hours of exhausted frustration. It is white, shaped a bit like an old Volkwagon Rabbit, and above the back tire there are a series of pastel triangles, squares, squiggles in pink and blue and pale green. It also has the word “College” in black in the midst of this design.

It was after being here for a week or so that I finally saw the owner of the car, and I thought “Oh my god, it’s Race Bannon.”

He’s a middle-aged guy with white hair, his face a bit angular though not long. He’s very French – always dressed nicely in slacks, a jacket and a button-down shirt, which would look dressy on an American, but ends up looking frumpy and everyday on “Race”.


Entry filed under: Paris.

Père-Lachaise Snow.

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What I’ve been reading:

  • James Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson, L.L.D. (London, 14 King William Street, Strand: William P. Nimmo, 1876). 4 years ago
  • Marsilio Ficino, Letters of Marsilio Ficino, v. 3, trans. Language Dept. School of Economic Science, London (New York: Gingko Press, 1985). 4 years ago
  • Italo Calvino, Six Memos for the Next Millennium (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1988). 4 years ago
  • Stephanie Kallos, Broken for You (New York: Grove Press, 2004). 5 years ago
  • Marsilio Ficino, Letters of Marsilio Ficino, v. 2, trans. Language Dept. School of Economic Science, London (New York: Gingko Press, 1985) 5 years ago

T. Anderson Painter

I am a misanthrope. No one ever believes me, but this seems to prove my point.



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