Mon endroit préféré est celui où sont mes amis.

When good Americans die, they go to Paris. -Oscar Wilde

Paris France, 15/07/89

The morning after. It must have been a party to remember. Every corner, nook, and cranny contained bottles. The city workers had cleared most of the remains but there’s always someone who puts out their cigarette in the potted plants, and another that hides empty bottles under the sofa pillows. The city was amazingly quiet. Fridays were usually quite busy, even in the summer.

I love Paris. I really do. The Parisians remind me of New Yorkers. If I had to choose one place to live, Paris would be up at the top of the list. I took a train to Gare de l’Est nearly every other month for the entire 2 years I was stationed in Germany. I would wander wherever my curiosity took me. Consequently, I missed some really cool things as I was seeing other really cool things. I never had my pocket picked. I did not meet a single Parisian that I considered rude. What I did find was a city where I felt at home.

So why wasn’t I there for the big todo? I spent the holiday with some of my French friends who were also assigned to Ramstein. The French unit had its own party to celebrate 200 years since the storming of the Bastille and we all got dressed up in our civvies and toasted France, wishing her another 200 years of freedom and prosperity. France has been America’s ally for a very long time. The Treaty of Paris and the Statue of Liberty are just two examples of how close an ally France has been.

America isn’t an island. It’s not a self-made country. It took an entire world of people working for it to become prosperous. America has not been what its mythos claims. America would not exist without its allies. On this 4th, I celebrate our allies. Thank you. All of us seem to misstep with time, may we do better tomorrow than we are doing today.