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 | PANAMA DOES LA FRANCE AVEC LE DOC August 13 -- On the Train to Paris -- It has been a cold summer in France this year, yet I hear from HQ that Tennessee temps have gone to 104 degrees Fahrenheit (metric world take note: that's about 40 degrees Celsius). Today I go to Paris to rendezvous with my friend The Doc, that Dutch force of nature, and Xander, our keyboard player, and Doc's new fiancée, whose name I have not heard yet. We have a gig tonight just below Nevers at our friend Serge's place, Le Tomahawk. Tomorrow we play at the village fest in Chateau Chinon, then the Tomahawk again. After that we drive back to Bretagne for two or three more gigs there. The past two days, though, I've spent with JL and Felicie at their house, La Maison Mary-Lou. Though it will soon be overflowing with the Doc and entourage, most recently it has been a quiet, relaxing time, except for Bilbo terrorizing the La Poste lady. But that's another story. A couple of nights ago the power went out due to trees down in the wind, and we lit candles and lanterns and sat in the warm dimness and smoked and sang. Jean-Luc and Felicie had dug up the real, actual words to La Mer and they began to teach it to me... LATER I got into the Gare Montparnesse at about 4 pm. I had bought a Coke on the train and it had cost 4 Euros Fifty. I didn't buy a sandwich, figuring it would have to be at least 10 Euro (Actually, they are 5 E), so I was hungry when I got to Paris. Getting off the train I walked through the heavy-laden ozone air to the end of the platform into the circle of Doc, Xander and Dragana, Doc's Serbian fiancee, who would turn out to be very beautiful, warm and kind. We went out of the station and got into The Doc's Renault Megane, old veteran of all our French tours together and began the 300 kilometer drive to Le Tomahawk. It is a biker bar with a sort of red Indian motif, including teepees, whch also serve as guest rooms. Charming, actually. Serge and Claudine have three willowy daughters working in the restaurant which serves barbecue every bit as good as Big Bob's in Decatur, and the best Tex-Mex I've eaten this side of Austin. So Americans in Paris, if you suddenly wake up needing a fix, take note: just 15 km or so south of Nevers on the left-hand side, Le Tomahawk. Good Eats. We played that night much of our usual repertoire, but I included "O Shenandoah" solo as a mini rehearsal for the upcoming Rochefort En Accords Festival. The biker crowd who come to the Tomahawk arrive on a variety of sleds, but the most prevalent, not surprisingly, for these are some well-heeled bikers, are old wonderfully kept up Harley panheads and shovelheads. These are more than somewhat expensive over here, so the colors worn by the bikers are really more in the nature od costumes. Our friends from Tin Tin's Band(meaning Gang) showed up and were at their usual level of boisterous but well-bred enthusiasm for the show.  Tin Tin is a French comic book character, a very proper, well-mannered young man. Which is why the colors worn by the members of Tin Tin's Band are prone to provoke laughter among the French. On the backs of the bikers' jackets is a rendering of Tin Tin in a very advanced state of corruption: 3 day growth of beard, cigarette dangling from the corner of his sneering lips, a tattoo or two, maybe. We played until well past 3 and went to bed. Next day would be long: hiking up and down the hilly street in Chateau Chinon to play on each of three stages throughout the afternoon, then back for another night at the Tomahawk. AUGUST 14, Chateau Chinon -- The little market town of Chateau Chinon (Chinese Chateau) is the epicenter of the Morvan, that part of central France in which I found myself this date. I have come here with Le Doc every year but last for the festival and we have invariably had a warm reception as well as a few CD sales. The sale of CDs provides eating money, the performance fees invariably being nearly obliterated by plane, bus, ferry, train and taxi expenses. I always feel that I will have made some money on these ventures until the travel is figured in, at which time the bottom drops out of the bucket. But it was a partly cloudy day in the village, and occasionally a light shower would appear, only to be gone in a minute. We did three sets only marred by the failure of Xander's power cord to his keyboard and then his little melodion giving up the ghost as well. Doc and I soldiered through but by the end of the day's alternate baking and soaking I was totally fried, and when we got back to the Tomahawk we had dinner, I did a set with Doc and Xander on his newly revivified Korg, and went to bed, going to sleep to the strains of "Ring of Fire" ala Le Doc and Xander. AUGUST 15 -- Next morning we set out back west to Bretagne and the 2 gigs of the originally-scheduled 5. But had I not begun touring with The Doc in in 2003 I wouldn't be in France this time, so...let it roll. We got into Quiberon about 6. This was the same campground that I had played with Mary-Lou the week before, and the audience, though comprised of different people, was equally receptive and equally anxious to have a CD or two. All in all is was a good gig. It was Wednesday and we would drive back to and spend the rest of our time together at the House of Mary-Lou and then the next night have off because of one of the cancellations. FRIDAY, August 17 -- Tonight we played at Le Daniel's, a bar with a late crowd (we started playing there at half past midnight, so it was actually Saturday morning). The crowd arrives more than somewhat inebriated already and grimly determined to get totally plowed. By the time we finished playing, at about 3:30 am, things had gotten so far out of hand that one celebrant had completely doffed his every garment not once but twice, a Honda Gold Wing had been laid over on its side in the parking lot, requiring four somewhat befuddled young men to stand it up again, and there was a girl-fight. I have seen me some unseemly behavior, and it has even been reported to me that I have participated in sole(though I have no recollection of ever being in any condition other than upright and dignified) but this Le Daniel's crowd takes the prize. Though I look forward to returning as many times as I can get across the pond, I was glad when it was over and we got back to La Maison de Mary-Lou. With the cancellations I now had an extra four days and except for finding a Protestant church on Sunday, I caught up on my email, and in general lay around. Jean-Luc anf Felicie returned and Monday night we had a farewell jam. Tuesday The Doc, Dragana and Xander hatted up for de Nederlands. For me, it was time to think about Rochefort En Accords... -30- NEXT: Our hero makes new and renews old acquaintances at the best music festival in France(and perhaps Tout Le Monde). |