Greetings From the Deep South!

In 1994 I was on Spring Break from the University of Grenoble in the heart of the Alps.
I dared to take my new German sled to Paris AGAIN.  With a false sense of security I
must have parked in the wrong place, because it was stollen with all my photo equipment,
photographs from a year in France and essentially everything except my toothbrush and
contact lenses.  Oh well!

The good thing was that one week earlier me and Philippe TRUONG secured jobs at the
famous FAUCHON in the Place de la Madeleine in Paris.  Fauchon was the first deluxe
gourmet grocery store in the world and is so today.  Their products can be found in airports
even in Asia.  So each day Philippe and I would leave the empty flat(there was no furniture
or beds, just a hot plate for tea), and head for the Metro taking us to La Gare Saint-Lazare
where we would walk the rest of the way to Place de la Madeleine and Fauchon.

Phil made fruits deguises or disguised fruits which were exotic cherries and other fruits
dipped in molten sugar to create a hard glossy finish to the fruit.  I, however, began making
the dough for 200 croissants, spreading on the butter, folding the "pate" over the layers of
butter and rolling the cut triangles from the wide side to the point of the triangle.  This was
my first exposure to food as art.  We let them rest.  We proofed them.  We brushed
beaten eggs over them.  We cooked them.  And by noon we packaged them gingerly
to send by air to Quatar for a business meeting.  1500 of them!  The rest we placed in
the patisserie storefront for eager shoppers.

This was the life.  Or at least it was better than worrying about the car.  In four days the
police found the car a bit dented up and totally empty.  Zut alors!!!  So from that day on
for two months the car was in the French garage waiting on parts from German factories
that were on strike.  Oh well!

OK. Back to Fauchon.  Each day at 1:00 the patissiers(pastry chefs) and Phil and I would
climb the stairs to a room where we would be fed and four course meal and all the
patisseries abimees(broken) like my car.  Ooooh, I could not get that sled out of my mind.
It was a communal lunch, and we felt special being there with those talented pastry chefs.

Long story short, the day before my flight home the French garage gave me permission to
drive the car "as it was" to the drop off for the ship.  I drove around the famous 12 street
roundabout that circles the Arc de Triomphe.  Wow!!!  Now that is perilous.  Since then
I've done it plenty of times, always holding my breath and driving like a "fou."

By the way, the car was received at the port by the manufacturer "as it was," and they
thought it was vandalized in transit.  So with the insurance coverage they repaired it
just like new, never ever knowing that it was stollen in Paris.

Whew!!!

Have a great day!!!

Billy