In the Airport 2017

            There is good Karma and there is bad Karma.  The last few weeks of the school year the overwhelming Karma was good.  There were a few students that were receiving the grades they earned but did not want.  But as the news of my 50^th seeped out the students and staff were enthusiastic in their support.  For the first time the Alumni had a reception for the retirees and me.  Charlie and her family came down from Lafayette and Mark flew up from LA.  One of my classes bought a chocolate cake and the students cheered when the president introduced me at a student assembly.  Finally, at the Faculty recognition dinner, I was given a warm welcome by the faculty and staff.  Charlie was my date for the evening and easily outshone her Dad.  Fr. Wade recalled that he both baptized her and gave her first Communion. 

            The bad Karma came in the form of two deaths.  First the son of a dear friend and then a Jesuit father whom I have known for the entire 50 years.

            My good Karma continued on my bike as I survived a near miss by a driver running a red light.  My bad camera Karma raised its head when inexplicably I lost my one-year old camera.  Then just as I prepared myself to do the trip without a camera using instead the camera on my phone, I found the camera hidden beneath several scattered papers.

            I successfully packed the bike trailer and electric front wheel in one box but then had to pay $200 because it was 11 inches oversized.  Then my bad flying Karma struck with gale like force.  I had printed out the wrong ticket.  Earlier I had planned on travelling on Air Berlin but later switched to United.  The nice lady at the ticket counter pointed out the mistake and I waited with my heart in my throat for the next words, “Sorry sir, your flight left an hour ago.”   Actually it would be an hour later.  I was shaking from head to toe as I imagined the consequences of such a horrible mistake.  An hour extra wait was my corporal punishment.

             The plane ride was uneventful except for the people watching.  The Japanese man in the row ahead of me orchestrated his wife and four children like a maestro at the Met.

            The Herculean Labors began after the landing.  My oversize package was the last off the airplane.  I muscled the heavy, awkward box onto the Roissey bus in to Paris.  The operator tried to discourage but not having a Plan B I ignored his protests.  Fortunately, there was ample room.  At the Opera, the “fun” really began.  I did choose the easiest subway option but even that burnt calories galore.  My best option was to carry the box up or down the stairs and then roll the box on the carrier on the flat.  This option became apparent when going down a staircase the box slipped off the carrier and slid the rest of the way performing the best double team block that I have ever seen with walkers scattering in both directions.  Luckily I was not on any terrorist list.  I will be surprised if the contents have survived in good shape.

            From the Cadet Metro station I pushed up hill for several blocks before collapsing in the lobby of my hotel.  After a 4-hour nap I am out and about,

            I am enjoying my favorite French cuisine, Turkish Kabobs.  The food is delicious and the atmosphere friendly.

            My plan for tomorrow is to visit two Jesuit schools in Paris, the Benedictine monastery, and the memorial to the Winter Velodome.  The Winter Velodome, near the Eiffel Tower, was the holding place where the French police took the Jews during the first round up in 1940.  The conditions were horrible and well documented.  This passed year I watched a French series called the “A French Village. “ The series covered the occupation years from 1940 to 1945.  I was totally unaware of the French complicity in the deportation of the Jews to the death camps in Poland.  The Germans did not have the manpower to do the task themselves and they enlisted the French for assistance.   In fact, the Germans wanted to deport only adults but the French forced them to take the children because their social services could not handle the burden.  Several ministers in the Petain government were seriously anti Semitic.  This definitely was not a proud moment in French history.

            By the way the series was filmed in Eymoutiers where I spent 8 days last year because of the rain.  By the third episode I started recognizing the familiar sights especially the church and courtyards.

            I hope that all of you had a great year and are ready for what this tour will bring. 

Bonjour!!!

Hardy