I have a question. It's something that kind of have no relevance on everyday life yet is important enough to make everyday people wonder just what in the heck is going on. What in the world is the "Office of the President Elect"?

Has anyone out there besides me noticed the sign on the front of President Elect Barak Obama's (PEBO) podium he makes speeches from? Aside from the fact that he gets more face time than the sitting President - despite what you think of President Bush - and the fact that PEBO still hasn't said anything of substance that I've heard, we now have to deal with the fact that our next President of the United States has made up an office for himself, an office that never existed before 2008. Just what kind of idiots does he think the American people are? Oh, wait, that's right. Enough of us are more concerned with spit and shoe polish concerning issues like what names we should use for terrorists, what the government is doing to fix the economy, that we need health care given to me by the feds and that PEBO is the greatest thing since Al Gore's creation of the internet. Somehow PEBO is going to solve all our problems starting with, and pulling off, the creation of the most ridiculous public relations spoof to ever be spoon fed the American people. Somehow PEBO standing behind that podium telling us that we need to think of something to do is supposed to comfort and fill us with the confidence that he does in fact know what he's talking about.

"Excuse me, Mr. Obama, what specifically are you planning to do?"
"Well, uh, what, uh, we need to do...is come up, uh, with a comprehensive plan which takes, uh, everyone's best interests to heart."
"Thanks for shedding light on that. I appreciate it."

Gosh, I could be one of his writers.

"Office of the President Elect." Just what have we elected? A showman? The national leader version of "The Music Man"? I cannot believe there is not more furor over the audacity of PEBO concerning the tricks through speeches and good public relations he's successfully pulling on the American people. I just hope the American people remember there is such a thing as black magic.

This past Tuesday I went out to lunch with a co-worker, a super cool older lady who ADs among the many other responsibilities she has at our workplace. Neither of us had any clue as to where to go, I was drawing a blank and she didn't care. Sushi sounded good, but the particular establishment we tried was still closed at 11am. The Chinese place we tried next was technically open but couldn't get their fire alarm to shut off. The third place we tried was a coffee shop I had camera op'd a film in a few years ago and remembered the food to be pretty good. As it was right around the corner from the fire alarming Chinese place and having less than an hour to eat we decided that would be good enough. Ironically, neither of us were very hungry and both of us ordered the same thing, Cream of Potato soup.

Now to be honest, the soup wasn't all that bad and didn't taste like it had turned. For me, returning to the States after having some of the best food of my life in France, it was pretty normal American stuff. But after having the soup, I started going downhill which was a huge problem as it was a nice day, cloudy but warm. One of those sporadic Hampton Roads nice days you get in late Fall or early Winter. Since the weather was supposed to get cold again in the following days, I called up my girlfriend (YK), walked and chatted with her around a lake, played some music, chatted some more, and then dropped her off so I could go home and pass out only to wake up a few hours later and lose all of the contents in my digestive system which mainly consisted of lunch. Barring my digestive system's spontaneous contributions, it was a great night only to be one-upped by a better morning when YK made me tea, amazing oatmeal with apples and caramel from scratch, and included some kind of stomach medicine which, for the life of me, I could not figure out how to take because the instructions were written in Japanese.

I'm sure if Esop were around he would be able to come up with some deep morals of Tuesday's fiascos. Since he's not, you'll have to deal with mine. First, if you aren't hungry don't eat. Second, if you do eat, stay away from places you shot films in, especially their Cream of Potato soup. Third, you should learn how to read Japanese so that if, fourth, you are given Japanese medicine for upset stomachs, you'll see that you should not not mix it in with your tea but take it straight out of the packet.

AD has been kind enough to remind me to post stories from France and I can only be kind enough to actually take some time to do it; one or two of them at least. It'll have to be sufficient to say that I literally hit the ground running since I've been back and writing a post has consistently been put on the back burner.

Since I've been back people have been asking me what my favorite part of the trip was. While I loved almost every aspect of the trip there is one place we visited which impacted me more than any other, visiting the D-Day beaches in Normandy.

Some facts amaze me in life. One of those is there are some things in life you can learn about all you want, research, read, look at pictures or footage of, even become an expert in, but will never more fully understand than when you see the thing for yourself. How many times have I heard about D-Day? How many times have I ready about it? How many times have I seen footage of it or seen reenactments in movies? I had respect for our boys, tremendous respect for our boys. They accomplished a feat that I hope we will never have to do again if just because of the tremendous price that was paid to do it. But all of the books, all the lessons, all the pictures, footage and movies and documentaries could not prepare me for what went through my mind when I walked out on Gold Beach, stood with my back to the English Channel still containing the artificial bay made out of sunken allied vessels, and looked up and down the coast at what our soldiers looked at 60 years ago under very different circumstances. This is what I saw.

The stretch of Normandy the allies landed in is a perfectly defensible position. There are sheer walls on one side (toward Omaha and Utah Beaches) and almost sheer walls on the other (towards Juno and farther east). The low part in the middle (Gold Beach) is now occupied by a town. In the expanse of all those beaches there is no reason why a well fortified and determined defender should not be able to drive back an attacker. Thank God the Germans guessed incorrectly as to the actual landing site and were waiting for our forces in the wrong spot. That isn't to say our boys didn't have it easy. Looking at the positions the Germans had and the task our boys had in driving the Germans from those positions, little imagination is needed to visualize the sea running red with blood that day.

I had a tremendous amount of respect for the WWII vets before this trip. Now that I've stood on one of the beaches where they ran forward for their lives and mission, seen the now eerily quiet guns in bunkers the vets disabled or took while being fired upon by other guns in other bunkers, I now have a different, deeper kind of respect for what our troops did that day. It's a kind of respect words cannot describe but can only be summed up by the depth of understanding in the eyes and the feeling behind the words "thank you" when talking to or shaking the hand of a veteran.

I realize this is not so much a story as it is a reflection but maybe I'll be able to put some stories together. The difficulty is that they all run together so keeping them all straight and giving enough context to give understanding while not so much to make the story boring is difficult.

Anyway, pictures are posted. Mine are separated out by album into days and groups of days so each of the following links will take you to different albums. Here is FrancEcapades Day 1 to ?, FrancEcapades Day 2, FrancEcapades Day 3, and FrancEcapades Day 4 to The Sad Sad End. If you're curious, the Normandy pictures are in the FrancEcapades Day 2 album.

Save for the two small lights in the bathroom and the glow of MP's laptop, all is dark in the apartment. MP and TD are both fast asleep. It's after midnight here in Rennes and I am awake still trying to burn off the dinner that was had three hours ago. It's a peaceful night at the end of a super crazy, fun, busy, fun week filled with adventures, a rented car, new found respect for WW2 veterans, amazing sights, historical landmarks galore, and food that I will never, never forget.

At this point I cannot post any stories for they would take too long, nor any thoughts on the country, differences in thought or approach to life for it may take a while to process. Suffice to say that there are many stories, some of which I will post, and many things I will process. This I am sure of, however. I am thankful for an adventurous family who allows its members to travel abroad and allows other members to visit those abroad. And I am thankful for those family members who are abroad to allow and receive visitors. So thank you MP for allowing TD and I to spend the week with you. Thanks for being our translator, thanks for being our guide, thanks for the amazing time we were able to have and that, hopefully, you had as well. You are so kind and so generous and so patient with two American cousins who landed on your doorstep without the ability to speak the language or even know the culture. Thank you very, very much for letting us come.