Wednesday, 7 July 2004
I Didn't See Bush, But the Flowers Were Pretty
front entryway to the residence, with fountain and flags
Today I had a rare-in-a-lifetime experience: Celebrating Independence Day by going to a reception at the U.S. Ambassador's residence in Paris. (Yes, a bit belatedly - I think that the actual Fourth of July was reserved for the higher-ups.)
Friends Matt and Lauren work at the embassy and were able to swing guest invitations for Heather and myself. Heather, unfortunately, is on a trip and had to miss out. So this entry is for her, as much as for anyone else.
Intermittent rain and gusting winds forced the affair inside, but the doors were open to those who wanted to wander around.
one of the two great halls where we stuffed our faces
There were two great halls, mirror images of each other, where a long buffet of snacks and drinks were served. Food and drink were relatively abundant, and everything was in miniature: mini-quiche, mini-B.L.T.s, mini-sections of "classy" hot dogs (not quite sausage, not really hot dog) wrapped in a sort of pastry, mini-hamburgers. The latter reminded me of Big Boy burgers, with their "special sauce" of Thousand Island dressing. I didn't bother to take any pictures - in part because whenever a server passed by, the food didn't last long. Everything was mini-licious.
You can clearly see (or rather, as clearly as my picture phone allows) two giant tapestries hanging behind one of the seriously long buffet tables. People queuing for the food studiously ignored them. Not pictured, hanging on the opposite wall, were some much more modern pieces of, er, "art." I would have taken pictures of them too, but didn't, in following with my photographic version answer to the advice "if you don't have anything nice to say...".
large, central room with a chandelier
In between the two halls are a couple of nice rooms with high ceilings - and the prerequisite chandelier. I was going to install one of those in my apartment, but then I remembered that my entire place is about half the size of this room. Plus, I can touch my ceiling with my palms, standing flat-footed.
The backyard was open to all, but most people seemed afraid to wander too far from the free food 'n' drinks, and the waitstaff who shuttled them to us. The brave few souls who ventured out, such as we, were treated to a moment of fantasy.
what would have been the main drag out the rear entrance, had the reception been held outdoors as planned
right rear side of the residence, with the central canopy covering the main walkway
Mr. Roarke promised me a place like this, an island of quiet and greenery in the middle of Paris. Wait, remind me again: Does Mr. Roarke make you sign blood contracts for your soul?
pretty in pink
a picture of no one taking the brown acid
This effect, of course, is known as "my picture phone is on an acid trip." I'm not quite sure what else it experienced, but personally I remember the dancing elephants (not pictured) being particularly charming in their ruffled tutus.
part of the gardens
The grounds were pretty nice, aside from wilting flowers here and there. I don't get the feeling that the resident couple spends much time walking in the gardens.
That would be a shame, if it's indeed the case. The area surrounding the Ambassador's residence is far from being as noisy as my area of town, but it's definitely not idyllic, either. In contrast, the grounds are surrounded by a wall almost as high as the residence itself. While most certainly built for security, it also does a fair job of keeping out the noise of honking taxis as they circle around neighboring place de la Concorde.
This garden would go pretty far in soothing a troubled brow. I suppose it's only fair that a big-time ambassador gets to have it. I just hope he and his wife appreciate and enjoy it.
As far as anecdotes go, the real story was indoors: The Ambassador's wife has, um, interesting taste in art (and "art" - those things that pretend to deserve the moniker).
Scary Girl says, "Puzzles are hard! Also, I eat the brains of the living!"
An outstanding example of this can be found at the foot of the stairs leading up to the private section of the residence. This girl putting together a puzzle is in actuality a statue - though still frighteningly realistic. What you can't see is that she seems to be some sickly waif, jaundiced and in worn clothes. It reminded me of some 3D version of those pictures of wide-eyed children that were so often seen hanging in the avocado-green and harvest-gold kitchens of the 70's. Very creepy.
Lauren had told me a tale of a previous (though very recent) party at the residence. One older gentleman, apparently less able to hold his alcohol than some, had been talking with the scary puzzle girl statue. Lauren gently told him that it was, in fact, a statue. I kid you not.
The merry hosts themselves put in only a brief appearance. Apparently, receptions aren't their cup of tea. I can understand; it was sort of cool to at least see them walk by me on their way upstairs to the private section. I wonder if they touch the scary girl statue for good luck when passing by. Just a thought.
Lauren and Matt
So, in conclusion: Food tiny. Gardens pretty. Art scary. People numerous. Event noteworthy.
Also, more eloquently: The image quality of these photos is pretty horrendous, but at least security (unseen - hence omnipresent, most likely) allowed the guests to take pictures. I really have to get a "real" (i.e. dedicated), easy-to-pocket digital camera. Or maybe I'll just wait a bit and pick up one of the newer megapixel picture phones. Should be in just a few months, if I'm as lucky as I was earlier this year.
Anyway, it was a very nifty evening to add to my list of "huh, cool" experiences. Thanks, Matt and Lauren!