Allons, enfants de la patrie

Today is Bastille Day. The French and the French-at-heart will be celebrating the awakening of democracy on the European continent that was represented by an insurrection in Paris on this day in 1789.

Yes, it’s taken the French a while to work things out—a bunch of republics, a couple of empires and one or two half-hearted attempts at restoring the Bourbon kings. (Is there a band called the Bourbon Kings? There should be. And they should play Zydeco.) Plus a Commune and some années noires.

But nobody’s perfect. And I really like the French.

I particularly love how anyone can celebrate their national holiday. For example—the traditional French waiters’ champagne race (like this one in London) held all around the world:

Well, to mark the holiday from here in the Valley They Call Silicon, I’m going to give you a bit of Hollywoodized French chauvinism, because I don’t believe it’s ever been captured better than in the iconic scene at Rick’s Café Américain.

You know, where Major Strasser and his boys, full of caviar and Veuve Cliquot ’26, have commandeered Sam’s piano and are belting out “Die Wacht am Rhein”, and Victor Laszlo demands that the house band play the French national anthem. For a few moments, there’s this amazing quodlibet going on between the master race and the conquered, but you know who prevails.

Vive la France! Vive la République!