North to Alaska

The Infamous Elbow Bump!

As bird flu heads our way health officials are starting to sit up and take notice. Some are suggesting that the friendly handshake must go. Our hands are carriers for all kinds of germs. People sneeze into them. People use them to cover their mouths when they cough. And people use them to pick up all kinds of things that are just oozing with germs. Yuck! And then they want to shake your hand. Back in 1918 during the height of the Spanish Flu outbreak, Prescott, Arizona, actually banned handshaking. Rome, Italy also banned handshaking in 1928. They claimed it was unsanitary. Of course they made an exception for all the good folks who wished to kiss the pope’s ring. Today doctors who head to Africa have already implemented their own ban on handshaking. They have replaced our traditional greeting with the elbow bump, a simple touching of the elbows.
The elbow bump would just be the beginning. Imagine a world with no hand to hand contact. Kids would no longer be allowed to say, “Gimme five! Up high! Down low!” Lonely bachelors would be spurned on the spot if they got down on their knees and tried to grasp a fair maiden’s hand in order to prepare themselves to pop the big question. “What are you doing? Trying to give me the bird flu?” Beer vendors at sporting events would be hard hit. Imagine trying to entice someone to take a cold one from his hand and then pass it on to the person sitting beside you who is trying to avoid making eye contact and is pretending that you are just a hologram. I just returned from a cruise and the captain refused to shake the passengers’ hands. He had posted a sign saying “Forget it!” Maybe he was just an ornery cuss. I did tell him that I had used some of the ship’s hand sanitizer, but he just smiled. Maybe he knew the stuff was not effective. Which reminds me that the one finger salute would still be permitted.
Banning hand contact with other people could have far reaching consequences for our society. The days when Miss Scarlet could say “I am so dee-light-eed to meet you!” and hold out her hand to be kissed would be over. To be certain there are already many members of our society today who share Rhett’s sentiment, “Frankly I don’t give a damn!” Baseball, the national pastime, would have to forget about steroids and become super diligent in enforcing its ban on the old spit ball—after all we can’t have the catcher taking a quick gander at the ball in his glove and saving “Oh, yuck!’ Everyone in the ballpark might bolt for the exit. Anyone who can still get pumped up hearing the Beatles sing “I want to hold yourrr hand” had better have a plan to deflate himself. If someone says, “put her there,” you might need to be a little suspicious of his intent. Las Vegas would go down the tubes since all the one-armed bandits in the casinos would have to be outlawed. Politicians just might be the biggest losers of all. In their quest for votes they seem compelled to press the flesh. Maybe there are other areas of the body they could press. Whoops! Sorry! I understand that many of them already do that. A good rule would have to be your hands in your pocket—your own. That would certainly leave the politicians out in the cold.
There are some innovative new ideas being tossed about as effective ways to control the virus. Start with kids. They are the most efficient germ spreaders in our country today. As I write this many are already being trained to sneeze into the crooks of their elbows. The greeters at Wally World could be pressed into service as our first line of defense. Instead of just saying ,”How are you?” they would actually look at your hands to see how you are: no clean hands—no admittance! At Mickey D’s the playground gatekeepers could confiscate all the toys from the Happy Meals if the munchkins should try to slip back inside without washing their hands.
There are many things that we can learn from the past. I understand that paper cups were introduced back in 1918 to help cope with the Spanish flu. Today we are already being forced to drink through straws when we eat out because our new improved dishwashers can’t get the lipstick off the glasses. Whenever someone sneezes in a public place, we could whip out a can of Lysol and spray the place. It might not stop the flu, but the smell sure would clean out the place in a hurry. Courtesy facemasks proved effective in curtailing the SARS outbreak in China. Here, however, health officials bemoan the fact that we don’t live in a culture that would voluntarily don courtesy masks. They might need to be reminded of incidental contact back in Austria in WWI. Women were pressed into service as streetcar conductors to help compensate for the shortage of men who were off fighting some dinky little war. The lady folks could get no respect. None that is until they started jabbing the unruly passengers with their long hat pins. Hatpins can command a lot of respect—even today. Then there is all that duct tape left over from Homeland Security hysteria. Just line your room with plastic sheeting and seal yourself in with duct tape. But why stop there? We have tons and tons of those unused Homeland Security booklets just lying around collecting dust. Why not stamp on the covers: How to Prevent Bird Flu? That would surely prompt the good citizens to don their courtesy mask. Now you can sleep soundly and not worry about the bird flu.

Too Short to French Kiss!

Bill Clinton was not the only head of state to have a bimbo problem—take the case of Napoleon.
He did not start out with a bimbo problem—it just happened. While he was a young officer, Napoleon was summoned by Paul Barras, one of the most, if not the most, influential men in France at the time, to a party. Barras, it seems, had a peculiar problem. He needed to ditch Marie-Josephe-Rose so that he could take up with her best friend. But, what could he do with Rose? He knew that Napoleon was bimbo deprived, so he told Rose to fawn all over the young officer. She did so to the great surprise of Napoleon. He was especially pleased since he was too short to French kiss. Barras asked him if he would be so kind as to take Rose off his hands. When Barras explained that Rose came with oodles of money, Napoleon accepted on the spot. After all, bimbos with oodles of money were hard to find in France at the time.
Marie-Josephe-Rose was everything that Napoleon could wish for in a bimbo. She was rich and six years his senior. And people in general thought Napoleon looked too young to be a man of any real importance, so he thought that if he were seen with an older woman that it might just help his career. Being rich certainly would not hurt either. Napoleon was probably also thinking of Julius Caesar, his own personal hero. While Caesar was proconsul of Gaul, i.e. France, the soldiers under his command nicknamed him, “the bald-headed adulterer.” Too many women—too little time. Some years later as he addressed the Roman Senate, a messenger rushed up to him and handed him a message. A senator thinking that he had proof of Caesar’s treason demanded that Julius read the note on the spot. Caesar refused. The Senator insisted again and again that he read the note then and there. When the session finally ended Caesar strolled over to the man and handed him the note to read. It was a love letter from the senator’s wife to Caesar. Napoleon was no Julius Caesar, but he had to start somewhere. “Josephine,” as Napoleon renamed Rose, was as good a starting point as any. Later, when Napoleon was named as the new head of the Army (French) of Northern Italy, he showed up to assume his command lugging along with him a portrait of Josephine. Back then there were no photographs, so lovers had to exchange portraits. Eventually, Josephine and Napoleon were married.
In 1803, Napoleon did a ceremonial makeover and had himself proclaimed French “Emperor.” This was a dangerous gambit on his part. After all, it had not been that many years since the French people had taken exception to all things royal. The disgruntled French citizens made their displeasure known by abolishing all playing cards with kings and queens on them, and then to make absolutely sure there was no misunderstanding of their intent, they sent Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to the guillotine. They dotted the final “i” by renaming the queen bee the royal bee. Would Napoleon now tempt fate by crowning Josephine as his new empress? The best previous example would probably be Justinian who moved Theodora from the brothel to his bedchamber, raising a few hackles along the way. But, when he dared crown her as his empress there was an epidemic of cold shivers that ran up the spines of quite a number of sanctimonious orthodox priests. Subsequently, when a riot broke out in the sports stadium between the fans of the Greens and the Blues, they did not lift a finger to help poor Justinian.
At the Emperor ceremony when it came time for Napoleon to crown Josephine there were lots of queasy stomachs including the one of Napoleon himself. Everyone watched to see if he would really go through with it. He first placed the crown too high on her head, and then removed it. After a few seconds he planted it firmly on her head. For better or worse she was now the Empress of France.
Almost immediately the two of them were beset by a new problem. The Emperor would need an heir. After a couple of years when no children were forthcoming, they began to quarrel over who was at fault. Josephine explained that she had two children already and that he had none. Ouch! A few years later, a bimbo informed him that he was about to be a father. "Say what?" “A father!” Napoleon immediately sensed that he might not be the problem after all. Napoleon suddenly began to think that Josephine might not be snooty enough to be an Empress. But where could Bonaparte find a suitable snooty royal? After making subtle inquires at the Russian court he decided to go straight to the top of snootery itself—the Habsburgs. He had reason to think that Francis I would listen. After all, it had only been a few years since he had busted the Austrian monarch from an emperor all the way down to a king. And if Francis should not be cooperative he could be busted all the way back down to a count if need be. First the divorce. Josephine was told of the necessity on November 30, 1809. Then a special emissary was sent to arrange matters with the Austrian Ambassador who was told to sign on the dotted line without consulting either Francis or Marie-Louise, the bride to be. Since the Austrian Ambassador knew whose jugular was on the line, he signed. And shortly thereafter the Austrian king who now knew whose jugular was now on the line also signed. Marie-Louise and Napoleon were married in a civil ceremony on March 11, 1810—only four months after the divorce from Josephine. In March, 1811, a son was born. At long last Napoleon’s bimbo problems were over and he could now get back to fighting battles. The next three years were not kind to Napoleon. First there was the crippling defeat on the frozen plains of Russia and Poland. Next there were the horrifying losses at Leipzig. And last of all there was the coup de grace of Waterloo. Maybe Napoleon should have stuck to bimbos.

A thaw in French-American Relations!

It seems like diplomatic relations between the French and the Americans have been on an irreversible downward spiral for almost two hundred years. The French did manage to bankrupt their country in helping the thirteen colonies win their independence from the Brits. You would think that little event might have created an eternal bond of friendship between the two countries. However! However! However! If we just barely probe beneath the surface we come to a startling different conclusion. The French at the time generally hated our guts, but they hated the guts of the British even more. The only way they could truly vent their undying hatred for the British Empire was to swallow their pride and help the Americans. According to the economic concepts of mercantilism to which the French government adhered at the time, if the British should lose their colonies that should totally shatter the British economy and leave the French as the supreme power in Europe. However, something really weird happened on the way to the forum. It was the French who went bankrupt, not the British. That led in turn to Bastille Day, the French Revolution, and Napoleon. You would think that the French would thank the Americans for Bastille Day. Not so! How many Frenchmen now take advantage of that day to hurl evil epithets, fireworks, etc. at innocent American tourists who just happen to be wandering the streets of Paris and its environs on that particular day? Many horrified Americans can attest to that occasion as a day of national retaliation against Americans.

To be sure the French did sell us the Louisiana Purchase at a bargain price of 3 cents an acre. But their actual title to the land itself was somewhat tainted. In 1800 under a questionable transaction the Spanish ceded ownership of the land to Napoleon with a clear understanding that the territory would never be sold to a third party. France did not take immediate possession of its newest possession because Napoleon feared the British would view it as a pretext to seize New Orleans. So he permitted the Spanish to continue to administer the area. Although the French sold it to the Americans on April 30, 1803, they did not take physical possession until three weeks before turning it over to the Americans. Napoleon it seems thought it would be best if he took at least nominal control before the Americans showed up on the Spanish doorsteps and asserted ownership. So we should probably view it as a quick profit turn around opportunity which no self-respecting emperor who was groping for spare change could possibly turn down. The French brief possession of the region did convey certain rights and privileges on the inhabitants and future inhabitants of the territory. Although I have been unable to verify it, CNN initially reported that due to a quirk in the French constitution, any resident of the Territory which includes Arkansas, for instance Bill Clinton, could legally seek the office of French President. The women of France might actually perceive him as a modern day William the Conqueror—if you get my drift. At least temporarily, Clinton decided to put all the Madames and Mademoiselles on hold to help Hillary win the office of US Senator from New York.

In 1823 the United States issued the Monroe Doctrine. For some time the French had been toying with the idea of helping the Spanish reclaim their lost American colonies. Alarmed by the defiant attitude of the Parisian government, the British approached the United States about a joint declaration warning all the conservative European states not to meddle in the affairs of the young republics of South America. James Monroe and John Quincy Adams dawdled while reviewing the invitation since they both knew that it could kindle a political uprising if they signed alongside the very people who had just recently burned our national capitol. Before they were compelled to sign on that dotted line, they learned that the British had extracted a formal agreement, the Polignac Pledge, from the French to stay out of the Western Hemisphere. Relieved beyond measure, Monroe and Adams decided to thumb their noses at both the French and the British by putting forth the Monroe Doctrine. Already humiliated by the British, the French took special offense at this upstart young country of ours that they had helped to liberate—thinking that the Americans were just piling it on.

And indeed in the 20^th century indignities did continue to pile up. The French were astounded that the American would dare claim that they were primarily responsible for the defeat of the Central Powers. During WWII Charles DeGaulle expressed his outrage when he was kept in the dark about critical details such as the actual landing site of the long awaited invasion of his country at Normandy or elsewhere. He protested it was his country after all. The American and British refused to relent to his demands knowing full well that whatever they told DeGaulle and his close circle of advisers, the Nazis would generally know in 24 hours or less. The best way for them to keep a secret was not to tell DeGaulle anything.

The French have spent a good deal of time in the last fifty years purging their language of Americanisms. A few examples should suffice: pipeline has been replaced with aqueduct de petrol and weekend with fin de semaine. Most computer terms have bitten the dust as well. In the heat of the rhetoric of the Iraqi War, the Americans finally felt forced to retaliate. French fries were temporarily replaced with Freedom fries. The French kiss remained French kiss—indicating that there was definitely a limit to how far we Americans would go.

So, when and where did this thaw in American-French relations occur? The date was March 29, 2006. It was sort of buried in an obscure press release. After all you can’t be too blatant when it comes to diplomatic overtures. French officials announced that in order to aid the wine industry in their country, they would now permit the wine makers to flavor their wines with wood shavings, a practice long sanctioned by the European Community, as opposed to aging the wine in expensive oak barrels. Now the grand gesture did not come from a French minister or perhaps a French Consul General, but from a person relatively low on the minion scale. Roland Feredj, director of CIVB, a Bordeaux wine council, stated, “In general, France always wants to give lessons to the rest of the world, and in winemaking we are realizing that the Australians and the Americans also have things to teach us about wine regulations.” Whew! To be sure the Aussies did get mentioned first. But there it was—a diplomatic olive branch tossed out to the Americans. Now don’t dismiss this magnificent gesture as trivial. What could be more important to the French than a bottle of wine? Unless, perhaps, we are all thinking of a French kiss.