When I Turned 64…in Nice

It rained “des cordes” (like cats and dogs) the first two days in Nice. I mean, poured. It’s highly unusual that the sun is not shining over the Côte d’Azur and people were complaining. It reminded me of when I was living in L.A. and when it rains for the first time in months and months, it makes the roads slick, windshield wipers show how dried and cracked they are the first time you turn them on and outdoor activities are thwarted, such as the daily tennis match. By Saturday, after the special ceremonies to pay homage to the victims of the July 14th attack, the sun was out and shining brightly.

The ceremonies took place on the colline du Château on Saturday morning, postponed one day due to the inclement weather. President François Hollande officiated, paying homage to the 86 who lost their lives on July 14th on the Promenade des Anglais — 19 nationalities represented, the youngest victim was two years old, the oldest 92 — plus another 434 who were wounded. Eighty-six white roses were laid around an ephemeral fountain under a bright sun witnessed by a bevy of ministers and VIP’s including Nicolas Sarkozy, Alain Juppé, François Fillon, and Prince Albert II of Monaco, among others, and about 2,000 of the families and victims, celebrities, members of the emergency services and journalists invited and given security clearance to attend.

That afternoon, I took the sunny opportunity to go to Café Balthazar on the Promenade des Anglais (at the end of my street and very near where the famous truck was stopped dead in its tracks) to watch the water of the Mediterranean glisten and the hoards of native Niçois as well as tourists stroll the “Prom.” About an hour of such bliss, I did an all-time stupid thing and cancelled an installation of Mac OS Sierra by shutting it down in the middle, making the computer crash.

The plan I had to go sit in a Niçois blue metal chair, let the sun shine on my face and watch the waves come in was aborted when I had to run home to get on the phone with a technician to bring my little Apple Macbook Air back to life. Seven hours later, with the only solution to erase the entire drive and start over from scratch, thanks to my techie, I was finally able to send and receive emails, surf the Net and write this Nouvellettre®.

Posters are everywhere around Nice about Jean Dujardin’s new sequel to his Brice de Nice movie from 2005. “Brice 3” opens Wednesday here in France and I’m sorry I won’t be in Nice for the opening. Even though he’s calling this number three, it’s really the second of the series. (Go figure? Am sure that’s just for laughs.)

One time, when he sat next to me at Café Charlot (so it happens that he likes the corner table and I like the second table in), after knocking over the bowl of sugar packs on my table (almost knocking over the coffee, too) and crouching under my table to pick them all up (can you imagine Jean Dujardin at my feet?), I nervously told him that of all his movies, Brice de Nice was my favorite. I’ve watched it numerous times and as dumb as it is, it gets funnier with every viewing. I can’t help but wonder if my comment encouraged the production of the sequel!

Here’s the original if you want to watch it. Then go see the Brice 3. (Can’t wait!)

Friday I took part of the day off to treat my 64th birthday to a shopping spree. Nice is my favorite place to shop — vastly superior (in my opinion) to Paris, which few people believe could be true. It’s all a matter of taste. While Paris clothing stores show black, gray, navy and brown, in sophisticated styles that are less than sexy, Nice is a wonderland of color and femininity. In addition, the shops are more intimate and the sales people friendlier and more accommodating. My neighborhood is THE shopping spot of the city and as a result, I find it pure pleasure and seriously damaging to my pocketbook.

My first stop was to Desigual in the Nice Etoile shopping center to which I have become addicted. Almost all the colorful clothing I wear on the House Hunters International episodes are of their making. It’s a Barcelona-based company founded by Thomas Meyer in 1984 that has grown 60% per year from 2002 to 2009 and with stores in 72 countries. Their intelligent marketing emailed me a 25% discount as a birthday gift and you can bet your bottom dollar that I took advantage of it! Even with at least six of their coats in my closet, I couldn’t resist acquiring another one — this time a coat of many colors — although exclusively an array of blues and greens.

Tonight Cross Border Planning and the Adrian Leeds Group, along with Moneycorp and Caye International Bank, will be welcoming a group of North American Expats to our first Financial Forum held in Nice (absolutely free thanks to our sponsors) located at the Hôtel Ellington in Nice Centre. Stay tuned…I’ll be reporting on it in Wednesday’s Parler Paris Nouvellettre®.

For those who follow Henri-le-Cactus’ progress, he’s taller than ever…even a few inches more than when I was in Nice a couple weeks ago. The boy is seriously happy in his sunny corner, as am I at the ripe old age of 64.
        
“When I’m Sixty Four” (By The Beatles)

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I’d been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?

You’ll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?

Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight
If it’s not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck & Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?
Ho!

A la prochaine…

Adrian Leeds
Adrian Leeds Group

 (by Michael Honegger)

Respond to Adrian

P.S. Many thanks to all of you who sent Happy Birthday wishes via email, Facebook and otherwise! This is one of those things that we all happily have to celebrate: a birthday (which is certainly better than the alternative!). Some of the graphics accompanying the messages were very creative! I just hope you all have as much fun on your birthdays as I had on mine. Again, the appreciation is heartfelt.