Well, my friends, or should I say, mes amis, this week’s post has to do with the blending of two age-old undeniable truths: “April showers bring May flowers” and the lyrics from the classic chanteuse tune “April in Paris”: “Chestnuts in blossom/Holiday tables under the trees/April in Paris, this is a feeling/No one can ever reprise.” That old American standard, written by Harburg and Duke, is playing in my mind 24/7 because three of my friends from my real-world circle, and from my Facebook exchanges, have all set off to Paris for grand excursions of world-investigating and self-discovery. I have done a fair share of traveling myself, and I am always delighted when I see that the “wanderlust” bug is gently biting (ouch!) other people in my milieu.
Full disclosure: I am amazed by the idea of a royal personage. Coming from both an Irish and an American background, where throughout history the monarchs were perceived as more “foe” than “friend,” I look at the behavior of His or Her Royal Highnesses with a healthy dose of skepticism. Still, I am only mortal, and the sight of resplendent jewels the size of a baby’s fist, visions of diamond-encrusted crowns, and miles and miles of ermine capes do dazzle and impress me. So I have this bizarre attraction to the trappings of aristocracy (“Look at the tiara! Look at the gown’s train! Look at the guards at the gate!”), but also this kneejerk reaction to shake my head and repeat that “they are only humans.”
Before there was the term “frenemy,” there was “Tom and Jerry.” The cat-and-mouse duo took the interplay between cats and mice to a dizzying and often destructive height. Debuting in 1940, the animated rivals still have a following today, and their more than 75 years in the public eye have not diminished their anarchistic antics and chaotic shenanigans. Tom and Jerry continue to earn worldwide fans as long as slapstick continues to provoke laughter.