In Brooklyn

So here, in Brooklyn, I am wondering

why am I one of the only people in the world,
it seems, who is not really into The Michael Jackson.

I've just spent a normal morning with my friend
who is a killing tenor sax player, recognized world
round, and he cannot explain to me why he is into
the Michael and why I am not.

All I know is that Michael is not booty boffing music.

And I like the booty boffing in my music.

Also: I can't stand friendly dogs.

Give me a wolf or give me nothin'.

And now to walk around in the New York.


New York City


I am in Brooklyn!!!

I am not in the south of France!!!

Many Americans may not get why I am glad to be back in the US,
and, many years ago, for years after I moved from Europe to the US, I had
a terrible time finding a space for myself. I couldn't get with the American
kids who were mean (note: German kids are the nicest that I have encountered:
interesting.) And I had the habit of trashing America. Much to the
fatigue of my hard-won American friends.

When I was about 30 I started to understand and appreciate the particular
cultural national identity that is, despite its size, America.

And now I am lovin' me some America.

For sure, it is the big city America.
When America is back woods, it is most definitely more dangerous and
soul-crushing then small town Europe.

I live in a village in France, and it beats ANY small town in the US.

But nothing gives me what NY or Chicago gives me.

I will be walking my ass around the city with its sharp corners,
couture, culture and GREAT FRIGGIN' FOOD!!!!

Ask a room of French people what their favorite food is and they
will look you dead in the eye and without a pause: "French Food"

In US cities you can never guess the response.

And this, I love.

However, there are good things about French country living.

But that. Is for another post.