Portrait of my cousin

 

By one of those amazing congruences in life, when my darling wife and I were in Japan, on our way to moving to France, I heard from my cousin James, who I had not been in contact for some years. It turns out he was moving to France too. Congruence indeed, but my story going back to my earliest childhood with this cousin really was one of extraordinary congruence, for which I am immensely grateful.

May I just mushily mention here that I adore my cousin.

So here we are all in France!

But France is a bigger country than you think, unless you are very clear on the size of France, in which case: France sure is how big you think it is! So it's not like we just wander out our doors and pop over to each other's houses. 

Thus, as a solution, we contrived to meet somewhere.

That was in Montpellier, three to five hours train travel away from my wife and me, and James and his utterly charming dog, in different directions.

It was great fun, and, as a note to any random readers out there who I have invited to visit us in France way back when all this seemed an odd sort of dream: Oh my god are you missing out!

Anyway, you may remember me showing rather a lot of Montpellier pictures and talking about moving to Montpellier, which is still in play, but I also found my cousin agreeable to my taking his picture during that. So I did, and have long wanted to do some portraits of him. But between back problems and illness, it has taken me ages to be able to get to my drawing board again, where on my computer I do layers and layers of drawing, erasing, and drawing some more. 

And then I end up with a portrait.

Which is what I have for you today.

How these memoirs are made

 

Many people ask me:

"How on earth do you write these memoirs I read everyday?"

To which I say with excitement and skepticism, "Wait, so do you read these every day?"

To which many people reply "Well, every few weeks I'll drop in, and it always seems like I missed a bunch!"

Yeah, I guess it is kind of a lot.

I used to have to just type my posts in purely from my imagination every single day, working out of my dark studio in a cold Minnesota basement. It required a lot of fortitude and imagination!

Nowadays I simply keep my stenographer with me at all times. He jots down everything I say throughout the day and night. 

The real challenge at this point is in the editing, and in the restocking of my aperol spritzes.

Yearbook picture

 

I have been working on my Summer pictures for Clerkmanifesto, a little group shot of the cast of clerkmanifesto for this Summer. Just a moment for us to touch base here and gather ourselves at France's clerkmanifesto headquarters.

I don't have a definitive image yet. It eludes me, and also, there is a lot of soccer to watch.

Like, did you see Messi's brace?

I know that yesterday I said that trying to predict soccer is a fool's game. It doesn't exist until it happens. But then, to slap me down for my hubris, I had one of those moments of absolute conviction. Sometimes they are positive, sometimes negative. This was around Messi's penalty kick he missed. I knew he would miss it so completely that I hoped he would give the kick to the forward who was fouled, Lautaro Martinez.

He didn't and he missed the goal.

Luckily it didn't matter and the two goals? Well, you saw them.  And if you didn't. Thank you for your attention to this matter. But they were an expression of a treat I have been enjoying for 12 years. It's almost over now, but weird that it still isn't. Talk about unpredictable.

Meanwhile, I have these images in various odd states of completion. I offer them forward as the Summer cast of clerkmanifesto.

What goes around....

 

I don't want to hate so much in the world cup. But I can't help it. I get as invested negatively (Netherlands, Germany, Morocco, Ronaldo) as I do get invested positively (Spain, Argentina, Belgium, Brazil, Cote D Ivoire until they broke my heart) and I barely even know why it happens most of the time. Seeing Germany's come from behind victory against Cote d Ivoire was miserable but also, due to my dark pessimism, it felt horrifically inevitable. And that's the thing I'm trying to shake off here in the second round; a miserable fatalism.

The things I liked happening, the ones that everyone treats as inevitable and permanent will turn on their heads. I've seen it all happen before. And the things I didn't like are indications of inevitability and the path forward, which I've also seen happen. So Messi, hailed as he is with three goals in the first game, just means, in my Eeyorish heart, that we will see nothing more from him and little more from Argentina now, whereas Mbappe's goals indicate an unstoppable nature and another unstoppable French World Cup.

But I can no more predict a dark future than a bright one. And something good or bad happening is only a Schrodinger's Cat. 

It wasn't there all along. I must reembrace this:

Each soccer match is invented at its inception.

And so now I turn to Spain's second match. Will it be the lucid ineffectiveness of round one, or pure Spanish magic? Both are entirely true and whole, until I open the box...

Trying to enjoy retirement

 

I was working on a kind of photographic idea today, all day, over the course of things; while the oatmeal was cooking, drinking a spritz at Parioliere, waiting in line for the bathroom. I'd take new background shots, add new elements, try new dynamics. And each time I'd get to a better picture until finally, well, I liked one picture so much I couldn't bother with any of the other ones, nor try any improvements.

Which was delightful. Success! But it was also a little sad.

I made a whole bunch of images, some I was really happy with, but now, I just have the one and don't want to muddy the waters, so to speak, so all the rest of my little triumphs are just dumped on the pile.

You should see my piles!

This isn't by way of saying anything regarding the content or meaning of this image I have for you today. 

That I'd rather just leave to itself.

Me, flying

 

On a warm day we went down to the ocean and had coffee on the beach, where they had raised their prices ten cents a drink!

Luckily I have a lot of loose change, piles of it. And, as an aside, not just the small stuff either. Ones and twos can accumulate in one's pocket if one is not careful to spend it. And oddly, shopkeepers will sometimes either:

A. Ask you for all kinds of specific change requests to help with the shortcomings at their registers, or

B. Apologetically give you 8.72 change for your 20 euro bill all in coins because five euro bills are strangely rare here sometimes.

"B" has been happening a lot to me lately.

But this is not the subject of today's post.

And don't worry. It is not the World Cup either.

After coffee we walked up the beach to old town and bought potatoes and arugula from our favorite seller there, who hates pennies of any kind. And we also went to the photography museum, which our city museum pass card gets us into for free!

This is the subject of today's post!

We counted it out and determined we were 60 percent successful with shows at the photography museum (it has no permanent collection). We loved the guy who did multi hour exposure photos of mostly landscapes for instance, but the woman exploring the "beauty" of "all kinds" of women felt a bit disingenous and didn't quite cut it with us. This new exhibition today was called "Levitation".

The photographer, an athlete and dancer, took pictures of himself mostly, but sometimes others, in carefully constructed moments at the height of elaborate leaps, giving him the look of someone suspended in the air in dramatic locations and in dramatic, space defying poses.

I didn't like them at first, but my negativity is often unnecessary and if I can get rid of it, I do my best to do so. They were often elegant and interesting in an instagram way, so it wasn't a big surprise that he has found much success first on Instagram and suchlike. There was a very pretty film of his work that seemed to include a lot of advertising work he had done as well, which was pretty too, but not the sort of thing to make one respect his work and vision more. But it was fun to look at.

I did feel like the information about the show wanted to make sure you knew these were real, unaltered photos of real scenes. And I can see their interest in that, in this day in age.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking mischievously and I took some pictures of the gallery and the show. And then I did the following.

 Are they homage? Affectionate teasing? Outright trolling?

Yeah, probably.

What have we learned

 

Here are the top ten things we have learned very recently at clerkmanifesto!

10. The general titles and introductions in clerkmanifesto lately are just a thin disguise for more World Cup content.

9. It is too much work to watch four World Cup games a day and read and watch all its attendant commentary and yet write about anything other than The World Cup (see item "10").

8. While the "Ten item list" is a classic motif, it generally requires too many distinct points, causing most of these said lists to have a couple of filler items.

7. See "Number 8".

6. Round one of The World Cup demonstrated so far that the vaunted "greatest midfields in the world" (Spain, Portugal) are like absolutely nothing compared to "The greatest stars in the world" (Messi, Mbappe, Harry Kane, Haaland).

5. Brilliant and dedicated teamwork is essential and profoundly respected, but really so far only for the less talented, over-achieving teams (New Zealand, Cabo Verde, Congo).

4. It's possible for us to become insanely excited about tie games.

3. This actually should have probably been a five item list. It turns out that it is hard to learn anything when you just watch a lot of soccer.

2. For all this incredible amount we've learned (see items 10 through 3, but probably disregard items "10", "9", "8", "7", and "3") it is only round one that we've seen, and there is still room to defy what we've just witnessed: Messi could now show his age with Argentina then bogging down around him. Lamine Yamal could light fire and lead Spain to their expected brilliance, Ronaldo could weirdly start scoring goals like a man half his age, which, alas, according to form so far would be 26, Belgium could put in adored talisman Axel Witsel, Neymar could rise from the dead, maybe equipped with bionics?, and Mbappe could, er, Mbappe could, no, I can't say it. I think that Mbappe, and I am no great fan, might, at The World Cup, be inevitable.

1. The winner of round one was the highest and the lowest. Oh, and people tuning into clerkmanifesto thinking "Gosh, I hope he talks about soccer instead of shelving, or library management, or his weird France vacation which seems awfully long already! Who's registering library cards for him?

 

Old man performs trick with hat!

 

I would be delighted if today's post was about a clever busker, an old man on the streets of my city doing clever variations on classic tophat magician tricks. Maybe one can even toss in a euro coin to his hat in appreciation, and as it goes in it disappears, giving the magician a tragic air, as even when the crowd appreciates him it all goes wrong.

But no.

One of the weirdest twists to this city is how as the Summer tourism has heated up towards a kind of wild festive pitch, and a loose party seems to be carrying on day and night, especially by the sea, there are actually fewer buskers! The street musicians have not ALL gone quiet, but there are fewer of them even as the available audience for them has doubled. Even the begging seems to have gone down a notch. I can't figure it out.

"So," You wonder, "If it's not about an old street magician today, what is it about? Please tell me you're not going to be working in talking about the World Cup again!"

Ooops.

You cracked it.

You were probably just kidding about hoping it wasn't about The World Cup though, right? Because where are you going to learn about The World Cup if not on Clerkmanifesto? I mean, outside of all available media everywhere? Which, who in their right mind tunes into media now that it has ceased to be as accurate as...

clerkmanifesto.

So who is this old man from the title then? 

Lionel Messi, on the verge of turning 39, scored a hattrick in The World Cup! 

As we say in France, ohh la la!

We really do say that.

And it was a wonderful hattrick as well, defying the years. Two of the goals were brilliant shots from distance, and the third was a bit more of an opportunistic tap in off of the goalie's inefficient save from a previous shot. A narrow offsides and one terrific save is all that kept it from being five Messi goals!

 Plus, for bonuses, Messi stamped on some guy's calf, for which he could have gotten a red card, preventing him from getting any goals! But so far it isn't that kind of a World Cup, so a hattrick it was.

But that's just reportage. What does it all mean?

What tiny little thing further did we learn from day five or whatever day it is of this gigantically long World Cup?

Sorry, nothing much. 

Things were mostly to form today, including the greatest and most famous players in the world ostentatiously grabbing goals left and right. But watching the seven goals between Messi, Mpappe, and Haaland, though indeed very much to form and expectation, was also, I mean, spectacular. There is no reason to get so caught up in suprises that we don't appreciate expected wonders at least as much as watching underdogs overachieve. 

It all works.

What next?

As we go to press the last of the first games for everyone will have played out (I have just started watching Portugal v. Congo!). We get a look at the truly ancient Ronaldo and another goal scoring giant in Harry Kane of England. From there we start the second games and get a little more perspective. Were great performances a result of facing weak teams? Were poor ones the result of playing good ones and now the rust is shaken off?

No one knows. But now the guesses will start getting better.

The temporality of the world cup

 

In the millions of predictions of the World Cup that I studied in order to be prepared to walk you through it all here, it is astonishing how wildly off the rails all those predictions have turned out to be already, and we have barely begun! 

It is not just that one of the top favorites of the tournament, Spain, merely tied Cabo Verde who is ranked 64th, but also, in a less heralded upset, New Zealand eeked out a tie with Iran, which to the lay person might not seem impressive, but New Zealand were ranked 85th in the world! They had the lowest ranking in the tournament while Iran was pretty well regarded at 20. Indeed, the big story of the World Cup so far has been the draws. As I write more than half the already numerous games have ended in a tie score. Considering the great dig against this new cup format was that it weakens the pool of competitve teams and creates too many mismatches, that's pretty hilarious.

So what does it all mean?

Nothing much.

Yet.

As I have said before, this low elimination group stage is not really for key events, it's for all of us to kind of get the feel for the whole thing and to size everyone up. It's for creating little miracles for the "we're just elated to be here" teams and for the solid teams to get it together and hopefully work out their kinks, not mess up their seeds, and to prepare themselves.

Sure, so far these games have told us the USA will go farther than anyone thought, that Germany is now a key favorite, and that Spain, while talented, is toothless. Turkiye and Ecuador were overrated! New Zealand is better than anyone thought. The Netherlands have the worst coach. Goalies are the difference between miracle ties and slaughters. Morocco's success wasn't accidental, Brazil despite the fancy coach aren't there yet, and Belgium's reluctance to play Axel Witsel cost them the opening win. Oh, and Sweden's front line is absolutely devastating.

But these are all just appetizers. Not even appetizers, they are amuse bouches! These look like truth right now but they are all written in sand. The tide will come in and wash them away. Or the tide will etch them deeper. Or maybe it wash them away, come back, and put them there again, though perhaps slightly altered.

My prediction?

Sorry, not my thing as I find them oddly wrong even when they are right. But I do have advice, even if it be mostly to myself:

Sure, go ahead and enjoy an upset, however it comes, even in a draw.

And delight in Cinderella stories.

But keep an eye out for good soccer, and enjoy that even more.

Expensive coffee

 

Down along the beach near our apartment one can buy expensive coffees, or, as I prefer, cappuccinos. Some of these places are classic "pay for the location" places, and in the famous hotels, or at some of the rooftop bars across the road, there is an element of "pay for the fanciness" as well. An average cappuccino in this town runs about euro 4.50. We have found one of the cheapest, though still perfectly lovely beachside cafe/restaurants called "Blue Beach" that charges a mighty 5.70 for their cappuccino, a minor price gauge we have belatedly decided to embrace, as it is accompanied by the right to sit in cushy lounge furniture directly on the beach down below the Promenade Des Anglais. Some of these seemingly interchangeable beach restaurants can charge over ten euros for their cappuccino, and so too will a ritzy and extremely famous place across the street, like the Negresco, charge as much as that tenner and possibly more.

Going now regularly to "The Blue Beach" for 5.70 cappuccinos has caused me to reflect upon some of the expensive coffees we have encountered in our lifetime of coffee drinking adventures. They do actually come in two distinct versions. The first is, of course, as I have mentioned, the price of ambiance, space, location, and or style. Venice's most famous cafe, or most ritzy, had a cappuccino for 15 euros, albeit served seated on the square of St. Marks. And this is at least a 15 year outdated price, so by any measure of inflation was really more expensive even than that 15 seems. We could not bring ourselves to indulge in this Venetian experience finding it not that interesting for the cost, but, oddly, in desperate need of a bathroom we had cafes in the inside bar for something like a third the price. The coffee itself was unmemorable, but watching the bartender methodically open dozens and dozens of bottles of champagne in preparation for apertivo left a great impression upon me and made me quite well-versed at opening bottles of sparkling wine from that informative moment forward.

The other kind of expensive cappuccino is based off of quality and sometimes the rareness of the beans. These are actually far more rare since the best of the fifth wave, obsessively excellent coffee houses we have been to tend to be at the very top of what I would call the average city price without venturing into the "expensive" category of price. The best general cappuccinos we have had, like in Saint Minneapolis at Kopplins (RIP) or in Copenhagen were fastidious and not cheap, but not in this "other" category. However in a cutting edge restaurant bar in Saint Minneapolis we long, long ago tried a $7.00 cappuccino (adjusted to today's prices probably more like 10 to 12 dollars!). As I recall it used a special kind of aged beans and was... fine.

In Montpellier we found a cappuccino also for seven, though this in euros and not needing inflation adjustment as it was barely more than a month ago. This was the most expensive item coming off of a full menu of bean options, and, and, I don't know what to tell you. I would get it every single day. I would let it change my very concept of coffee.

Except when we want coffee on the beach, where I will accept that it is not all that great, and love it as much.