Disco Stampede

I don't mean to be horrible and callous (too late!), but using the term disco stampede in an article pushes it toward comedy and away from tragedy. And I quote:

"The stampede was caused by (a) commotion in the disco."

BEEN THERE, man.

Complaints about France, part deux (following the exact-change bitch-fest from a few weeks ago): it is too hard to stay fed in Paris. Crazy bullshit, right? "Shut UP, kungfuramone! Paris is the world capital of cuisine!"

Well. If you're rich, maybe. Normally, places don't open until 8pm and everything is so expensive, you are forced to kill yourself with a hatchet. I'm not kidding.

Today, happily, there was a nice café in the Musée D'Orsay that provided us with food, then later we found another café in the Marais (that's "the swamp" in English) that was grudgingly willing to exchange food for money at 6pm.

Here's the thing. Let's say that it costs X dollars/euros to buy some stuff from the grocery store and make dinner. If it cost, say, 2X dollars/euros to get dinner at a restaurant, we'd all do it all the time. 4X euros, sure, fine. 5x...uh, ok. But it's something like 8 - 10X at most places in Paris, certainly at proper restaurants. The food is good...caramelized onions, meat falling off the bone, nice salads with homemade dressing, the works. But, uh, dude. The world economy is collapsing. Who among us can honestly afford 30 euros for a plate that has some food on it? I can make all kinds of pasta and scrambled eggs and stuff, and it's only going to set us back 5 euros.

Anyway, my mom and stepdad are visiting. Go look at my flickr pics of museums and related man-about-town activities.