Le Vilain Petit Canard

Yesterday I went to an "open mic" (though there is no microphone). It's a nice little place that recalls and older, Frencher France. Most everyone seems to know one another, but they are kind enough to make an awkward American feel welcome. The owner is a solid man whose no-nonsense demeanor is leavened by flashes of a kindly smile. His wife animates the circle of guitar players and flautists and occasionally accompanies old ballads with her beautiful voice.

I like listening to the old guys sing Brassens, politically charged laments, and Gaelic tunes. An Argentine was there last night, and sang some really beautiful songs... I forgot to ask the titles. Then a young m'as-tu vu came in and sang John Mayer, and "un chanson que j'ai écrit (je me fais de la pub)" which sounded suspiciously like something John Mayer would've come up with. He was technically good.

I was definitely in the lowest quartile talent-wise, but I rapped "Loose Lips" by Kimya Dawson and sang a goofy version of "I Threw It All Away" by Dylan. I did an earnest "Hard To Be A Girl" by Adam Green and "Gut Feeling" by Devo. I think people appreciated the otherness of it at least.

People I meet are always interested in finding out what I think about Marseille. I had to mention that I was assaulted on my way to the bar. A vagrant scurried up to me yelling "M'sieuh! M'sieuh!" then tried to grab me with his filthy hands. I esquived him, and informed him that he should not lay hands on me under any circumstances. He then lifted his 1664 bottle over his head as a threat. I brandished my pool cue bag (which is truly a shit weapon) but it scared him off. Little dumb piece of shit.

But Marseille is a great place. I'm going to miss the sea. I'll miss the Calanques. The boats, the fish. The spices of Africa. Les arabes! I mean, those lucky bastards that have a nice little place between centreville and the Calanques... maybe a little sloop to take out on the weekends. They have a nice set-up. I can dream.