Simone de Beauvoir and Belle et Bonne are riding together at a leisurely pace behind the main peloton in Stage Five of the Tour De France. Since yesterday they have become the best of friends.
Belle et Bonne: Isn't it funny how their heads are at different heights and yet their bottoms are all on the same level!
Simone de Beauvoir: Yes, is is amusing. The reason is that the handlebars are all on the same level. Have you ever watched the Tour de France from the front?
Belle et Bonne: Yes, I like to watch the handlebars approaching. It's good to know that everyone is equal.
Simone de Beauvoir: And yet some of them have much longer legs than others. Take mon petit homme Jean Paul. He's only five feet tall you know. It is difficult for him.
Belle et Bonne: Oh, but he has a giant intellect of course.
Simone de Beauvoir: That does not help much on a bicycle.
Belle et Bonne: Simone, may I ask you something?
Simone de Beauvoir: Fire away!
Belle et Bonne: Well....I'm a modern girl, but I would never let my partner call me Beaver.
Simone de Beauvoir: Why? It's just a nickname, which I got for working hard. In fact it is a double joke, because in French he calls me Castor, which is the same as Beaver in English. And then of course, Beaver sounds like Beauvoir. It is quite clever, no?
Belle et Bonne: But Simone, do you not know that Beaver has a ribald meaning these days? It is used quite frequently in low class American films.
Simone de Beauvoir: No? Oh no ! I can guess! Oh! That is too funny! I cannot wait to tell it to mon petit Jean Paul!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The Beaver
Belle et Bonne arrived in Cambrai very early in the morning. She burst into the hotel room where The VeloDrone, Le Bon David, Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir were finishing their breakfast.
What's that horrible smell? she demanded.
Hello my dear, said The VeloDrone. How lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to Simone de Beauvoir. She has been looking after us splendidly.
Hello, said Belle et Bonne, in the direction of Simone De Beauvoir. Nice to meet you.
She sniffed pointedly. Whatever is it, that smell?
Hello, Belle et Bonne, smiled Simone de Beauvoir. Yes, it is a horrid smell, is it not? I have been treating the bruises of your papa, and David and mon petit Jean Paul, with this Chinese medicine which I myself use for everything including headaches and sore throats.
Uggh! said Belle et Bonne. All three of them smell disgusting.
Never mind, dear Belle et Bonne, said Le Bon David. We shall no doubt be riding in our usual position at the back of the peloton.
Oh, hello Uncle David! said Belle et Bonne. How are you feeling today?
Uncle David! exclaimed Jean Paul Sartre, staring at Le Bon David. Why does she call you Uncle David?
Never mind, said Le Bon David. It's a long story. I'm not really her uncle, he added hastily.
No, he isn't, said Belle et Bonne. I've sworn to call him Uncle David until he learns to respect the intelligence of women.
Simone de Beauvoir looked up from her pot of Chinese embrocation.
He does not respect the intelligence of women?
Of course I do, blustered Le Bon David. It's just a little joke between us.
Aha! I see. said Simone de Beauvoir. Just as I call Jean Paul mon petit homme, and he calls me the Beaver.
What's that horrible smell? she demanded.
Hello my dear, said The VeloDrone. How lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to Simone de Beauvoir. She has been looking after us splendidly.
Hello, said Belle et Bonne, in the direction of Simone De Beauvoir. Nice to meet you.
She sniffed pointedly. Whatever is it, that smell?
Hello, Belle et Bonne, smiled Simone de Beauvoir. Yes, it is a horrid smell, is it not? I have been treating the bruises of your papa, and David and mon petit Jean Paul, with this Chinese medicine which I myself use for everything including headaches and sore throats.
Uggh! said Belle et Bonne. All three of them smell disgusting.
Never mind, dear Belle et Bonne, said Le Bon David. We shall no doubt be riding in our usual position at the back of the peloton.
Oh, hello Uncle David! said Belle et Bonne. How are you feeling today?
Uncle David! exclaimed Jean Paul Sartre, staring at Le Bon David. Why does she call you Uncle David?
Never mind, said Le Bon David. It's a long story. I'm not really her uncle, he added hastily.
No, he isn't, said Belle et Bonne. I've sworn to call him Uncle David until he learns to respect the intelligence of women.
Simone de Beauvoir looked up from her pot of Chinese embrocation.
He does not respect the intelligence of women?
Of course I do, blustered Le Bon David. It's just a little joke between us.
Aha! I see. said Simone de Beauvoir. Just as I call Jean Paul mon petit homme, and he calls me the Beaver.
Affection
All is chaos in the Velosophy office. Belle et Bonne is Skyping with The VeloDrone, who is in Brussels.
Belle et Bonne: O papa! Did you hurt yourself? Let me see your bruises!
The VeloDrone: Calm yourself, my dear, I am perfectly alright. They are very small bruises. But David came a nasty cropper on the cobblestones. He's going to have to spend the day in bed.
Belle et Bonne: I knew I shouldn't have let you go! You're both too old to be riding in the Tour De France!
The VeloDrone: Nonsense my pet! It takes more than a catastrophic pile-up to get the better of Team Philosophe ! Now tell me, how are things going in the office ? Have you and Madam Denis found more lady philosophers?
Belle et Bonne: Oh yes, papa. Marie has made a list. Let me see, we have Hypatia of Alexandria, Teresa of Avila, Hildegard of Bingen, Mary Wollestonecroft, Margaret Cavendish, George Eliot, Ayn Rand, Simone de Beauvoir......
The VeloDrone: Did you say Simone de Beauvoir?
Belle et Bonne: Yes, papa.
The VeloDrone: What a coincidence! I saw her just this morning. She's here with Jean Paul Sartre, who is riding with our team. Or should I say, he was....
Belle et Bonne: Did he come a cropper as well?
The VeloDrone: Unfortunately, yes.
Belle et Bonne: And is Simone de Beauvoir looking after him?
The VeloDrone: Yes dear. She's being very kind to David too. And me.
Belle et Bonne: Well Papa, I have just decided something.
The VeloDrone: What's that?
Belle et Bonne: I'm coming over.
Belle et Bonne: O papa! Did you hurt yourself? Let me see your bruises!
The VeloDrone: Calm yourself, my dear, I am perfectly alright. They are very small bruises. But David came a nasty cropper on the cobblestones. He's going to have to spend the day in bed.
Belle et Bonne: I knew I shouldn't have let you go! You're both too old to be riding in the Tour De France!
The VeloDrone: Nonsense my pet! It takes more than a catastrophic pile-up to get the better of Team Philosophe ! Now tell me, how are things going in the office ? Have you and Madam Denis found more lady philosophers?
Belle et Bonne: Oh yes, papa. Marie has made a list. Let me see, we have Hypatia of Alexandria, Teresa of Avila, Hildegard of Bingen, Mary Wollestonecroft, Margaret Cavendish, George Eliot, Ayn Rand, Simone de Beauvoir......
The VeloDrone: Did you say Simone de Beauvoir?
Belle et Bonne: Yes, papa.
The VeloDrone: What a coincidence! I saw her just this morning. She's here with Jean Paul Sartre, who is riding with our team. Or should I say, he was....
Belle et Bonne: Did he come a cropper as well?
The VeloDrone: Unfortunately, yes.
Belle et Bonne: And is Simone de Beauvoir looking after him?
The VeloDrone: Yes dear. She's being very kind to David too. And me.
Belle et Bonne: Well Papa, I have just decided something.
The VeloDrone: What's that?
Belle et Bonne: I'm coming over.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Dull Story
And did they drown? asked Pliny the Elder, interestedly.
Did who drown? I asked.
The old woman and the old man, said Pliny.
Why should they drown? I asked.
You wrote: An old woman and an old man with a walking stick walked off the jetty arm in arm, said Pliny. I assumed they were ending it all.
No Pliny! They weren't walking off the end of the jetty. They'd been out on the jetty, and were returning. Very slowly. They got to the place where the jetty begins. They stopped and looked both ways. Then they walked off the jetty.
Humph! snorted Pliny. You made that very unclear yesterday. I was full of admiration for the old couple when I thought they had decided to end it all, while they still both had the wherewithal.
Pliny! That may have seemed admirable to you Romans, but it is not admirable these days. That would have been a shocking occurrence.
Yes, said Pliny, pityingly. I suppose it would. So what did the old couple do then?
They shuffled slowly across the path in front of the kiosk and stopped directly opposite the door. They conferred for a minute or two. Then they went inside.
Did they come out again?
No, not that I saw.
What a dull story, said Pliny.
Did who drown? I asked.
The old woman and the old man, said Pliny.
Why should they drown? I asked.
You wrote: An old woman and an old man with a walking stick walked off the jetty arm in arm, said Pliny. I assumed they were ending it all.
No Pliny! They weren't walking off the end of the jetty. They'd been out on the jetty, and were returning. Very slowly. They got to the place where the jetty begins. They stopped and looked both ways. Then they walked off the jetty.
Humph! snorted Pliny. You made that very unclear yesterday. I was full of admiration for the old couple when I thought they had decided to end it all, while they still both had the wherewithal.
Pliny! That may have seemed admirable to you Romans, but it is not admirable these days. That would have been a shocking occurrence.
Yes, said Pliny, pityingly. I suppose it would. So what did the old couple do then?
They shuffled slowly across the path in front of the kiosk and stopped directly opposite the door. They conferred for a minute or two. Then they went inside.
Did they come out again?
No, not that I saw.
What a dull story, said Pliny.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Ending Up With Six
Because it is now only warm in the middle of the day we went out in the middle of the day.
We took a picnic.
The picnic was egg and cucumber sandwiches. A seagull came to watch us eat the sandwiches. Yes, we were at the beach. We were the only people who didn't have a dog.
I had brought my camera. Everywhere there were beautiful scenes. Yachts with coloured sails crowded the horizon, and painted clouds reflected tranquilly in the water pools. Stacks of seaweed mouldered in the sun. A razor shell stood up of its own accord.
Outside the kiosk a redhaired cherub ran away from her brother and hid. An old woman and an old man with a walking stick walked slowly off the jetty arm in arm. A fat lady carried a loaded tray inside. The sun glared lowly.
I took sixteen photographs.
When I got home I was unhappy twice. First because I somehow lost the photographs. Then Allan found them. But second because the beautiful scenes had retreated and diminished, and I ended up with six.
We took a picnic.
The picnic was egg and cucumber sandwiches. A seagull came to watch us eat the sandwiches. Yes, we were at the beach. We were the only people who didn't have a dog.
I had brought my camera. Everywhere there were beautiful scenes. Yachts with coloured sails crowded the horizon, and painted clouds reflected tranquilly in the water pools. Stacks of seaweed mouldered in the sun. A razor shell stood up of its own accord.
Outside the kiosk a redhaired cherub ran away from her brother and hid. An old woman and an old man with a walking stick walked slowly off the jetty arm in arm. A fat lady carried a loaded tray inside. The sun glared lowly.
I took sixteen photographs.
When I got home I was unhappy twice. First because I somehow lost the photographs. Then Allan found them. But second because the beautiful scenes had retreated and diminished, and I ended up with six.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Heartless
Yes, the Indignant Liberal Pineapple looks like a slug. Whoever heard of a pineapple that can't stand up? It's just lying there on the kitchen bench, yellow, or sickly bronze. It probably isn't even indignant, if the truth be known.
As for the other pineapple, my beloved Intellectual, he is down to 6 bite-sized pieces, in the fridge. It seems heartless to eat a pineapple that has read Victor Hugo, but, what can you do?
At least I have now written a funny poem about him for Colin's birthday card. Is it really funny? I don't know. Would it be wrong of me to show it to you, before Colin sees it? I don't know. So I will. Don't laugh. I mean, no, you may laugh.
Thoughts of an Intellectual Pineapple.
I never thought before being et
That I the chance would ever get
To read a book with glasses on
Although of eyes I have not one.
This just shows one never knows.
That's it. I hope I have succeeded in imagining the syntax of a pineapple. I hope have not been patronising, but have given him the dignity that he deserves. None of what happened to him since the day he entered my life has been his fault.
As for the other pineapple, my beloved Intellectual, he is down to 6 bite-sized pieces, in the fridge. It seems heartless to eat a pineapple that has read Victor Hugo, but, what can you do?
At least I have now written a funny poem about him for Colin's birthday card. Is it really funny? I don't know. Would it be wrong of me to show it to you, before Colin sees it? I don't know. So I will. Don't laugh. I mean, no, you may laugh.
Thoughts of an Intellectual Pineapple.
I never thought before being et
That I the chance would ever get
To read a book with glasses on
Although of eyes I have not one.
This just shows one never knows.
That's it. I hope I have succeeded in imagining the syntax of a pineapple. I hope have not been patronising, but have given him the dignity that he deserves. None of what happened to him since the day he entered my life has been his fault.
Essences
What is the essence of a photograph? What it is? Or what it is of?
Pineapple essence: I made a copy of the photograph of the Intellectual Pineapple wearing glasses and reading The Toilers of the Sea. I wanted to make a funny birthday card for Colin. I had to load it on to a memory stick and walk to Officeworks and get it printed out. I was glad the girl who printed it didn't see what it was. Next I took it home and stuck it on a card. Then I had to think of something to say to make it funny. And I couldn't. Because Colin may not have read The Toilers of the Sea.
Baby essence: Claire asked me to send her some photos of Chris as a baby. I guess she wanted to see if he looked like Ben. Or if Ben looked like him, since Chris came first. I found the old photo album and picked out three black and white ones. In two of them I was holding Chris and in the third one Allan was. We looked so young I fell in love with us.
More pineapple essence: This week's pineapple from the Central Market wouldn't stand up. It had no firm basis to stand on. I was trying to think of a personality for it, for the photograph. I decided it looked like a voter. So I placed it next to the front page of the Independent Weekly, as though it were looking at the headline, "What Did He Know and When Did He Know It?" which refers to the Treasurer Kevin Foley. The pineapple looked smugly indignant. I called the pineapple Indignant Liberal Pineapple, and loaded it on to my Facebook. I fear the pineapple now, for we are yet to eat it.
Pineapple essence: I made a copy of the photograph of the Intellectual Pineapple wearing glasses and reading The Toilers of the Sea. I wanted to make a funny birthday card for Colin. I had to load it on to a memory stick and walk to Officeworks and get it printed out. I was glad the girl who printed it didn't see what it was. Next I took it home and stuck it on a card. Then I had to think of something to say to make it funny. And I couldn't. Because Colin may not have read The Toilers of the Sea.
Baby essence: Claire asked me to send her some photos of Chris as a baby. I guess she wanted to see if he looked like Ben. Or if Ben looked like him, since Chris came first. I found the old photo album and picked out three black and white ones. In two of them I was holding Chris and in the third one Allan was. We looked so young I fell in love with us.
More pineapple essence: This week's pineapple from the Central Market wouldn't stand up. It had no firm basis to stand on. I was trying to think of a personality for it, for the photograph. I decided it looked like a voter. So I placed it next to the front page of the Independent Weekly, as though it were looking at the headline, "What Did He Know and When Did He Know It?" which refers to the Treasurer Kevin Foley. The pineapple looked smugly indignant. I called the pineapple Indignant Liberal Pineapple, and loaded it on to my Facebook. I fear the pineapple now, for we are yet to eat it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
