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Hey Santa!

December 24, 2011

As I drove into Valbonne yesterday morning that old chestnut” I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day” was playing on Riviera Radio and I just knew it was going to be a good day. I was headed for the English Book Centre in Valbonne for another book signing session, the sun was out and the village was buzzing with the Christmas market as I have attempted to capture in today’s photograph. Another seven sales of the book takes me within two sales of the break even point, and if the thing makes a profit I will justifiably be able to change my title from author to successful author.

Christmas market in Valbonne

On the way across from the parking in Valbonne I passed Cafe Latin where I encountered a large gathering for “church”, the last chance to worship coffee on a Friday before Christmas. Amongst those in the congregation was my style guru Neil Humphreys who I discovered, when I asked, was free. He immediately honed in on my purple cashmere (effect) sweater which I had put on in a fit a colour blindness earlier. He was very impressed and drew attention to my comments in past columns about his rare ability to wear purple and not be considered camp, at least by a few people. I told him that I was in awe of this macho ability but he seemed unimpressed. He did however introduce me to a local builder whose name is, and I kid you not, Chris Chicken and his lovely wife Mrs Chicken. I asked after his brother, Kentucky Fried but I am afraid to say I received the sort of look that said I should be up before the beak. Being in the soup I took stock of the situation and with ruffled feathers decided that should be enough chicken jokes for today.

Christmas tennis lunch was taken at La Source near Le Rouret and as decent as it was there was still no real comparison with the traditional venue Auberge St Donat the spiritual home for post tennis lunch.  Regular readers will know that I attended under protest. The Wingco and I made the decision that the real Xmas tennis lunch should take place at the traditional venue the following Friday where, contrary to La Source, there would be no choice of food, indeed I spotted Master Mariner Mundell who is a tennis player, after a fashion, seemed all at sea when actually having to choose what to eat, an irritation missing from lunch at the Auberge St Donat.

With the sprogs inviting hordes of friends over last night an escape route was required so we tunnelled out and headed up to the Queens Legs for a pint, collecting another customer for Currencies Direct, (you see, always working) a quick look in La Fontaine du Vin, an annual visit to ensure its status in my eyes as an overpriced but sleeping opportunity of a wine bar that could be so much better than it is, before remembering that we were invited to the Wingo’s town house for a festive glass or two.

Within a short time, his guitar was out and we were regaled with improvised Christmas versions of old rock classics, the most memorable of which was “Hey Santa” with more than a passing nod to the Jimi Hendrix Experience “Hey Joe”, the Wingco’s version enshrining the immortal line “what you doing with that sack in your hand”. That lead to the tasteless and unfounded suggestion that Gary Glitter, is well-known for leaving children bedrooms with an empty sack. It was at this stage I decided I had heard enough and headed to bed.

Chris France

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Pinman permalink
    December 24, 2011 10:26 am

    Being in the soup I took stock of the situation and with ruffled feathers decided that should be enough chicken jokes for today.

    These were just cheep plucking jokes……………


  2. Rev. Jeff permalink
    December 24, 2011 3:02 pm

    Lucky Mr. and Mrs. chicken are such good eggs and were all white about it. I’d have told you to get stuffed……


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