Tuesday, 13 July 2004
À que coucou, Johnny
For the first time in my time living in Paris, over four years, I've actually had a brush with a famous person.
See, Paris (and France in general?) is actually pretty respectful of the private lives of celebrities, at least in comparison to the U.S. I'm not talking about notable exceptions like that which caused the death of Princess Diana. No, I'm simply saying that it's possible to find yourself in line behind Johnny Depp, minding his own business at the grocery store just as you are. (This actually happened to a friend of mine.)
So when I heard the deep, gravelly "merci" from the guy coming out of a store on the place des Petits Pères, I didn't think anything of it at first. But my mind works fast, and it took me no more than a second or two to go from "whaaa?" to having my picture phone at the ready. Once a reasonable distance away, I snapped a couple of shots.
Nothing really worth looking at, just an interesting footnote in my day. In any event, I present to you Johnny Hallyday, his wife Laeticia, and what appear to be two bodyguards (one of which doubled as Johnny's driver).
Johnny Hallyday (in black leather) and Co. in a Beatles-esque moment
Johnny is major rock legend in France, as well as having appeared in a couple of films. He's also something of a running joke. His verbal tic, "à que," was went through same arc of omnipresence ten years before "wazzuuup!" became the battle cry of quickly un-hip hipsters.
Saying (admitting?) that you're a fan of Johnny is almost the definition of uncool. Yet he's so earnest that you wonder whether he's truly serious or simply riding the wave. Explaining the Johnny phenomenon satisfactorily would be a giant task, so I'm not even going to start.
But hey, he has a Mercedes with tinted windows and a personal driver. How cool is that?