#ThingsI'llMiss
"Why are we singing?!?" asked a friend, a newbie to the usual weekend ritual of drinking, discussing, burning wood pallets swiped from behind the local supermarket, then passing out legit 30 paged books of raucous drinking songs.
"I don't sing!" she protested. Oh, but you will.
The French are widely known for their jovial love of gathering in public or private to sing. Rugby matches. Football (soccer) matches. Weddings. Birthdays. Parties and kickbacks. Ain't no thang. Someone will know a seriously inappropriate song with eight layers of double entendres and teach the rest of the crowd. Or type them all up, then disperse them among friends and family for generations to come, like my circle of friends.
I once was watching a rugby match online with P-baby and the English commentator (English vs. France - WATCH OUT, another 100 years' war is bout to go down) remarked there was nothing more wonderful "than a jubilant, French crowd," who can always be expected to burst into communal song at some point. And it's true.
And it's never the national anthem, the Marseillaise, because after the fall of the Bastille, nationalism has been equated with the crazy, xenophobic right wing political party. It's always songs about a "baguette" and the fireman's "hose."
Some people aren't brought up to sing willy nilly, as evidenced by the newbie to the weekend pow wow, but if you come across a group of jubilant French people, get excited and warm up your vocal cords. You're about to witness a spontaneous cultural expression of joy.
