[kj] "Last Pogo in Paris"

foolscircle9ways gathering@misera.net
Mon, 20 Oct 2003 10:41:12 -0700 (PDT)


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Hey! Y'all Stateside. 
Won't be at the NYC gig after all :( 
Long story cut short to one word - Warsaw (Dub, that's a city in Poland, Central Europe: largely grey housing estates from Soviet era, but has some charm in "the Old Town").
 
More disappointed at not meeting up with you guys than at missing the gig(s).
Anyhoo, enjoy yourselves and I hope to catch you some other time.
 
Stuart in Warszawa (at this rate I'll be in Prague while Jaz and Co are in NYC! Dub, shut the fuck up.)

dub <dubireland@eircom.net> wrote:
Is this the Killing Joke list or the fucking travel show list? Fuck this
shit. Mail yer travel report to some list that cares or off list ye
muppet!

-----Original Message-----
From: gathering-admin@misera.net [mailto:gathering-admin@misera.net] On
Behalf Of Alex Smith
Sent: 19 October 2003 5:59 PM
To: gathering@misera.net; gathering@misera.net
Subject: Re: [kj] "Last Pogo in Paris"




Bonjour y'all....

Back from beautiful Paris, and a hearty thanks to everyone's advice of
where/what to visit. Peg and I had a marverlous time and were truly sad
to leave. Some highlights....


Highlights....

- Instead of a hotel, we rented an apartment on Isle St.Louis from a
little operation called Guest Service Apartments. It was completely
wonderful, and probably a closer approximation to what it's like to
actually live in Paris than staying in a hotel. Visit them here:
http://www.guestapartment.fr/

- One of the nicest views of Paris is from the roof of the Arab
Institute (itself well worth visiting).

- With one tiny exception (courtesy of a maitre'd at newly-opened
Franco-Asian hepcat lounge, Kong), everyone in Paris was unfailingly
nice to us.

- Apart from maybe Japan, France displays the most refreshing
appreciation for the much-maligned art medium of comic books. The sheer
number of well turned out and immaculately presented comic shops was
truly heartening (for a recovering comix geek like myself). Bought a lot
of needless Tintin & Asterix crap.

- Want to really hate your fellow countryman (more than you already
may?) Travel abroad! Americans in Paris stick out like viscous clumps of
tepid dung in the Foie Gras, and behave accordingly. No wonder they hate
us. Also, the second they find out you're a Yank, the fist words out of
their mouth are "Ahhh, George Bush!" Yeah, thanks alot. You then spend
few minutes apologizing for him. 

- Courtesy of some of the folks on the ILM boards, I found a great
record shop in the Bastile area called, inexplicably, BIMBO TOWER. It's
quite hard to find (down at the ass end of a easily missed back alley),
but it's well worth seeking out. It's teeny tiny, but they pack the
place with all sorts of ephemera (not just music related). It's a bit of
a geek's paradise, as its brewing with all sorts of odd material
(Japaense toys, odd fanzines, t-shirts, totschke, etc.) Didn't find
anything too mind blowing (wasn't looking for anything specific
actually), but picked up a Rough Trade Post-Punk compilation just to
show my support.

- While sipping a beer (preggy Peggy had an Orangina) at Les Deux Magot
on the Left Bank (where Hemingway used to hang out in between visiting
Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas at Shakespeare & Co.), we spotted
John "Duran Duran" Taylor (well, he actually passed our table on his way
to the men's room). At Peg's wide-eyed urging (herself a recovering
zealous Durannie) I later interupted his salad consumption (much to the
chagrin of the pissy woman with two-toned hair he was sitting with) and
got him to sign and autograph (on the back of our receipt). To his
credit, he happily obliged and was quite a hecka-swell fella about it.

- On our first night (my birthday), Peggy's parents (in town on their
way back to Houston from Tunisia, long story) took us out to the
legendary Lido for dinner. A highly touristy and somewhat embarassing
joint on the Champs Elysees, the Lido is famous for being the first
place to zealously display female breasts. Huzzah! Along with a very
nice dinner, you are treated to a glitzy Vegas-styled show featuring
countless numbers of topless French women and various acts of
ridiculously over-the-top shobiz shenanigans. Honestly speaking, after a
while, one is numbed by the sight of naked French nipples, but it was
completely hokey and fun all the same.

- On behalf of a friend of mine here in NYC, I dragged poor Peg off one
day in search of a mysterious place on the Left Bank (in the Latin
Quarter) called Deyrolle. Apparently, my friend Sam's brother had
purchased a strange poster there called "Squelette de Lapin" (Skeleton
of the Rabitt) and he covetted it considerably. Happily obliging, Peg
and I pinpointed Rue de Bac (the street is was supposedly situated) on
the map and set off for it. When we reached the storefront, we found an
empty, dusty, bare room....though with a sign saying "Le Boutique
Deyrolle ouvert". After a few awkward moments, a rather disagreeable
woman descended a flight of stairs, chewing me a new one in furiously
speedy French for interupting her lunch. I stammered out my apologies in
my broken French (you'd think after eight years of the language in grade
school, high school and college I could manage at least one coherent
sentence). After squinting and furrowing her brow at me, she led us
upstairs into a truly strange set of rooms, flanked with disarmingly
lifelike taxidermy and medical charts. Fetal pigs in jars, exotic jungle
bugs under glass, wild boar heads protruding from the walls, it was like
room out of The Adams Family house. Turns out they did indeed have the
poster (a rather grotesque image which Sam's wife will invariably resent
me for life for once he frames it and mounts it on their wall). I tried
to convince Peg to search around for something for our house, but she
politely demured (disembowled farm animals aren't really her aesthetic).
Mission accomplished. In any event, next time you're in Paris, search
this freaky place out.

Anyway, that's all for now, but we had a truly tremendous time.

Cheers,
Alex in NYC







----------
>From: "Alex Smith" 
>To: gathering@misera.net
>Subject: [kj] "Last Pogo in Paris"
>Date: Fri, Oct 10, 2003, 11:40 AM
>

>
>Gatheruzz....your assistance, s'il vous plait...
>
> As I may have mentioned, the wife and I are taking a last minute 
>holiday before the spikey mallet of impending parenthood biffs us in 
>the hooter. Peg's already in Germany on business right now (for the 
>annual Frankfurt bookfair), and I'm flying over on Saturday to 
>rendez-vous with her. From there, we're taking a train to Paris for a 
>few days (back on the 18th with a few days to rest up before KILLING 
>JOKE DISEMBOWEL NEW YO....er.....Killing Joke squeeze in as much music 
>as they can into their paltry one-hour set at Webster Hall) being that 
>once our baby arrives in April, we probably won't be going anywhere 
>ever again. Honestly speaking, I haven't been in Paris (the "City of 
>Light", if I'm not mistaken) since the balmy days of 1987....and most 
>of that period was spent drunk anyway (although I do remember finding 
>probably the only Punk Rock record store in Paris at the time called 
>L'EVASION. Wonder if it's still there!) In any event, I'm going to be 
>there for about one full week, and would *HAPPILY* welcome any 
>suggestions of places/things to go see/do/experience/etc. I'm not 
>talking about the obvious touristy shit like the Eiffel Tower, the 
>Louvre and stupid Jim Morrison's grave, I mean cooler, a bit more 
>esoteric stuff. Most of you know my sensibilities, so let them be your 
>guide. Nothing outside of Paris either, as being that Peggers is 
>preggers, we want to keep this journey relatively low-maintenance.
>
>Merci beaucoup in advance, mes amis!
>
>
>Alex dans NYC
>_______________________________________________
>Gathering mailing list
>Gathering@misera.net 
>http://four.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/gathering
_______________________________________________
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<DIV>Hey! Y'all Stateside. </DIV>
<DIV>Won't be at the NYC gig after all :(&nbsp;</DIV>
<DIV>Long story cut short to one word - Warsaw (Dub, that's a city in Poland, Central Europe: largely grey housing estates from Soviet era, but has some charm in "the Old Town").</DIV>
<DIV>&nbsp;</DIV>
<DIV>More disappointed at not meeting up with you guys than at missing the gig(s).</DIV>
<DIV>Anyhoo, enjoy yourselves and I hope to catch you some other time.</DIV>
<DIV>&nbsp;</DIV>
<DIV>Stuart in Warszawa (at this rate I'll be in Prague while Jaz and Co are in NYC! Dub, shut the fuck up.)<BR><BR><B><I>dub &lt;dubireland@eircom.net&gt;</I></B> wrote:</DIV>
<BLOCKQUOTE class=replbq style="PADDING-LEFT: 5px; MARGIN-LEFT: 5px; BORDER-LEFT: #1010ff 2px solid">Is this the Killing Joke list or the fucking travel show list? Fuck this<BR>shit. Mail yer travel report to some list that cares or off list ye<BR>muppet!<BR><BR>-----Original Message-----<BR>From: gathering-admin@misera.net [mailto:gathering-admin@misera.net] On<BR>Behalf Of Alex Smith<BR>Sent: 19 October 2003 5:59 PM<BR>To: gathering@misera.net; gathering@misera.net<BR>Subject: Re: [kj] "Last Pogo in Paris"<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>Bonjour y'all....<BR><BR>Back from beautiful Paris, and a hearty thanks to everyone's advice of<BR>where/what to visit. Peg and I had a marverlous time and were truly sad<BR>to leave. Some highlights....<BR><BR><BR>Highlights....<BR><BR>- Instead of a hotel, we rented an apartment on Isle St.Louis from a<BR>little operation called Guest Service Apartments. It was completely<BR>wonderful, and probably a closer approximation to what it's like to<BR>actually live
 in Paris than staying in a hotel. Visit them here:<BR>http://www.guestapartment.fr/<BR><BR>- One of the nicest views of Paris is from the roof of the Arab<BR>Institute (itself well worth visiting).<BR><BR>- With one tiny exception (courtesy of a maitre'd at newly-opened<BR>Franco-Asian hepcat lounge, Kong), everyone in Paris was unfailingly<BR>nice to us.<BR><BR>- Apart from maybe Japan, France displays the most refreshing<BR>appreciation for the much-maligned art medium of comic books. The sheer<BR>number of well turned out and immaculately presented comic shops was<BR>truly heartening (for a recovering comix geek like myself). Bought a lot<BR>of needless Tintin &amp; Asterix crap.<BR><BR>- Want to really hate your fellow countryman (more than you already<BR>may?) Travel abroad! Americans in Paris stick out like viscous clumps of<BR>tepid dung in the Foie Gras, and behave accordingly. No wonder they hate<BR>us. Also, the second they find out you're a Yank, the fist words out
 of<BR>their mouth are "Ahhh, George Bush!" Yeah, thanks alot. You then spend<BR>few minutes apologizing for him. <BR><BR>- Courtesy of some of the folks on the ILM boards, I found a great<BR>record shop in the Bastile area called, inexplicably, BIMBO TOWER. It's<BR>quite hard to find (down at the ass end of a easily missed back alley),<BR>but it's well worth seeking out. It's teeny tiny, but they pack the<BR>place with all sorts of ephemera (not just music related). It's a bit of<BR>a geek's paradise, as its brewing with all sorts of odd material<BR>(Japaense toys, odd fanzines, t-shirts, totschke, etc.) Didn't find<BR>anything too mind blowing (wasn't looking for anything specific<BR>actually), but picked up a Rough Trade Post-Punk compilation just to<BR>show my support.<BR><BR>- While sipping a beer (preggy Peggy had an Orangina) at Les Deux Magot<BR>on the Left Bank (where Hemingway used to hang out in between visiting<BR>Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas at Shakespeare &amp;
 Co.), we spotted<BR>John "Duran Duran" Taylor (well, he actually passed our table on his way<BR>to the men's room). At Peg's wide-eyed urging (herself a recovering<BR>zealous Durannie) I later interupted his salad consumption (much to the<BR>chagrin of the pissy woman with two-toned hair he was sitting with) and<BR>got him to sign and autograph (on the back of our receipt). To his<BR>credit, he happily obliged and was quite a hecka-swell fella about it.<BR><BR>- On our first night (my birthday), Peggy's parents (in town on their<BR>way back to Houston from Tunisia, long story) took us out to the<BR>legendary Lido for dinner. A highly touristy and somewhat embarassing<BR>joint on the Champs Elysees, the Lido is famous for being the first<BR>place to zealously display female breasts. Huzzah! Along with a very<BR>nice dinner, you are treated to a glitzy Vegas-styled show featuring<BR>countless numbers of topless French women and various acts of<BR>ridiculously over-the-top shobiz
 shenanigans. Honestly speaking, after a<BR>while, one is numbed by the sight of naked French nipples, but it was<BR>completely hokey and fun all the same.<BR><BR>- On behalf of a friend of mine here in NYC, I dragged poor Peg off one<BR>day in search of a mysterious place on the Left Bank (in the Latin<BR>Quarter) called Deyrolle. Apparently, my friend Sam's brother had<BR>purchased a strange poster there called "Squelette de Lapin" (Skeleton<BR>of the Rabitt) and he covetted it considerably. Happily obliging, Peg<BR>and I pinpointed Rue de Bac (the street is was supposedly situated) on<BR>the map and set off for it. When we reached the storefront, we found an<BR>empty, dusty, bare room....though with a sign saying "Le Boutique<BR>Deyrolle ouvert". After a few awkward moments, a rather disagreeable<BR>woman descended a flight of stairs, chewing me a new one in furiously<BR>speedy French for interupting her lunch. I stammered out my apologies in<BR>my broken French (you'd think after
 eight years of the language in grade<BR>school, high school and college I could manage at least one coherent<BR>sentence). After squinting and furrowing her brow at me, she led us<BR>upstairs into a truly strange set of rooms, flanked with disarmingly<BR>lifelike taxidermy and medical charts. Fetal pigs in jars, exotic jungle<BR>bugs under glass, wild boar heads protruding from the walls, it was like<BR>room out of The Adams Family house. Turns out they did indeed have the<BR>poster (a rather grotesque image which Sam's wife will invariably resent<BR>me for life for once he frames it and mounts it on their wall). I tried<BR>to convince Peg to search around for something for our house, but she<BR>politely demured (disembowled farm animals aren't really her aesthetic).<BR>Mission accomplished. In any event, next time you're in Paris, search<BR>this freaky place out.<BR><BR>Anyway, that's all for now, but we had a truly tremendous time.<BR><BR>Cheers,<BR>Alex in
 NYC<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>----------<BR>&gt;From: "Alex Smith" <VASSIFER@EARTHLINK.NET><BR>&gt;To: gathering@misera.net<BR>&gt;Subject: [kj] "Last Pogo in Paris"<BR>&gt;Date: Fri, Oct 10, 2003, 11:40 AM<BR>&gt;<BR><BR>&gt;<BR>&gt;Gatheruzz....your assistance, s'il vous plait...<BR>&gt;<BR>&gt; As I may have mentioned, the wife and I are taking a last minute <BR>&gt;holiday before the spikey mallet of impending parenthood biffs us in <BR>&gt;the hooter. Peg's already in Germany on business right now (for the <BR>&gt;annual Frankfurt bookfair), and I'm flying over on Saturday to <BR>&gt;rendez-vous with her. From there, we're taking a train to Paris for a <BR>&gt;few days (back on the 18th with a few days to rest up before KILLING <BR>&gt;JOKE DISEMBOWEL NEW YO....er.....Killing Joke squeeze in as much music <BR>&gt;as they can into their paltry one-hour set at Webster Hall) being that <BR>&gt;once our baby arrives in April, we probably won't be going anywhere <BR>&gt;ever
 again. Honestly speaking, I haven't been in Paris (the "City of <BR>&gt;Light", if I'm not mistaken) since the balmy days of 1987....and most <BR>&gt;of that period was spent drunk anyway (although I do remember finding <BR>&gt;probably the only Punk Rock record store in Paris at the time called <BR>&gt;L'EVASION. Wonder if it's still there!) In any event, I'm going to be <BR>&gt;there for about one full week, and would *HAPPILY* welcome any <BR>&gt;suggestions of places/things to go see/do/experience/etc. I'm not <BR>&gt;talking about the obvious touristy shit like the Eiffel Tower, the <BR>&gt;Louvre and stupid Jim Morrison's grave, I mean cooler, a bit more <BR>&gt;esoteric stuff. Most of you know my sensibilities, so let them be your <BR>&gt;guide. Nothing outside of Paris either, as being that Peggers is <BR>&gt;preggers, we want to keep this journey relatively low-maintenance.<BR>&gt;<BR>&gt;Merci beaucoup in advance, mes amis!<BR>&gt;<BR>&gt;<BR>&gt;Alex dans
 NYC<BR>&gt;_______________________________________________<BR>&gt;Gathering mailing list<BR>&gt;Gathering@misera.net <BR>&gt;http://four.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/gathering<BR>_______________________________________________<BR>Gathering mailing list<BR>Gathering@misera.net http://four.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/gathering<BR><BR><BR><BR>_______________________________________________<BR>Gathering mailing list<BR>Gathering@misera.net<BR>http://four.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/gathering</BLOCKQUOTE><BR><BR>If you're not living on the edge you're taking up too much room.<p><hr SIZE=1>
Do you Yahoo!?<br>
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