Just a thought

With the exception of my mom, my best friend , the friends I go to lunch with on thursdays, my boss and coworkers, and my landlord, would anyone even notice if I moved to Paris?


Just a thought

BE- Basement Elevation

The Champs Elysees, Paris France

It takes more than a force of good will and luck to overcome the barriers that stand before us, so plan in advance for the road ahead. Look to the future, not merely as a dreamer, but as an architect too. Know your angles well. No one can bring you down if you do.
--me

A small price

                                   There's a price to pay for what we want the most.

If, then (at your funeral)

Oscar Wilde's grave, Pere LaChaise Cemetery, Paris France

At your funeral, if you want people to say you were a good man/woman,
           then be a good person.
If you want people to speak of  how you helped them when they really needed your help,
           then be helpful.
If you want the funeral pews to be filled with people who loved you and had plenty of good testimonies of your kindness and your sense of humor,
           then act accordingly.
If you want your kids to recall many wonderful experiences and not be hard-pressed to find one good thing to say about you,
           then be a good dad.

But if  you want the funeral pews to be empty with the exception of  the pastor and your spouse who might be the only one tolerant of your behavior and made excuses for you , then  be the opposite.

Courage?

Friends are periodically connecting with me to talk about my trip to Paris, so I'll apologize in advance, for posting new insights from the experience for a time! Ok, my friend Luke was telling me today that it was pretty brave of me to go to Paris by myself. He sounded as if I had volunteered to join the army. I don't think courage had anything to do with it. I've always wanted to go. Of course, knowing that Paris is a romantic city, I thought about waiting until I got married, but I might never get married. I wanted to do something special for my 50th birthday; something different than meeting friends for happy hour, getting a bite to eat, baking my own birthday cake, and going home. I wanted to do something special for me since 50 came first. If love ever comes again, and by some miracle, marriage follows, I'd be an excellent tour guide for the next time I go to Paris. I'd like to think of it as the first step in healing my soul. I'm planning another trip abroad for my next birthday. Perhaps The U.K. or Australia, or Vietnam. or even Tokyo.

Paris

But I think I love Paris more now that I've been there. My best friend said that as a sensitive romantic, I will never be the same. I think he's right. I'm not the same.

One of the things I learned about Paris

The strangest thing. I took the train and bus every single day I was in Paris, and every single day a caucasian person sat next to me. They weren't scared of me. It was the strangest thing. In most cases there were other places where they could have chosen to sit, and it wasn't even tentative. They didn't look like they needed to reconsider a safer, more comfortable place to sit. Here in The States, I have lived on the east coast, the west coast, down south, and the midwest, and I can't remember the last time a caucasian sat down next to me on the bus or the train. It was the strangest thing. I loved it.

One of the things I learned about Paris

The people here are G O R G E O U S.  

Cinquante- A Negro in Paris

 I was able to wake up in a suburb of Paris France to see 50 years on 11 November. It's so surreal to me. The very first thing I did was to get on my knees to thank God for letting me see it, then like every day, I get dressed and I head to the city (5 train stops away) to get a breakfast and pastries (the kind I have to lie to my nutritionist and doctor about)  before I start my day, and no matter what I do, I always end up at the Champs Elysee. It's about 2 miles of heaven for me. If you love shopping, eating, shopping, people-watching, shopping, meeting new people, shopping, pastries, shopping, bookstores, shopping, shopping, and shopping, go there.
I have the best friend of all, in Steve Demuth, who made a dinner reservation for me at the Tower 58 Eiffel for my birthday. I was told I needed to bring my passport and a print out of the reservation, but my name preceded me- since it's a French-Canadienne name, all I had to say was my name, and doors were open without my having to show any identification. I was referred to as 'the Canadian one.'   Every one was friendly. I was escorted to the elevator up to the restaurant on the 2nd level of the Tower Eiffel, and though I was over dressed ( all the other males wore dress shirts or sweaters with nice slacks), I love wearing suits. I like giving good first impressions.
I never imagined being in Paris to celebrate 50 by myself, but I'm not complaining. I've had some friends that never even got to see 40, or even 30, so keeping that in mind, I am grateful that God blessed me to see 50. I don't look my age so that makes it even better!    

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Hopefully God will bless me to come to Paris again with my soulmate, of whom I'm convinced He is still preparing for me...