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.
I particularly love how anyone can celebrate
their national holiday. For example—the traditional French waiters’ champagne
race—le course des garçons de cafe (like this one in New Orleans)—held all around
the world:
Well, to mark the holiday from here in the District They Call Columbia, 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!
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