NOTES OF CONCERN...
...Jack Blair
FAUX PAS
While I have no doubt Americans love Paris, we seem to have recently offended the French!
If you have been reading about “L’Affaire Hollande,” you know that the president of France is unmarried. You also have learned that he had his mistress, more recently referred to as his concubine, living with him in the Elysee Palace. He even arranged for her to have an office in the palace and a staff of four.
Those French never cease to amaze.
It was of little matter to the French who are used to the wondering eyes of their men and evident availability of many of their women.
A president with a mistress they could handle.
But alas!
A president cheating on his mistress was more than they could bear.
Now here things get a little complicated. If I understand the news reports correctly, apparently the French are doing a special version of le Can-Can over the fact that it would have been tres cool if the president were married and had a mistress on the side. In fact, they would have found that blasé and paid it little moment.
But a president who cheats on his mistress!
Quelle horreur!
Ce n'est pas possible!
Comment embarrassant!
President Hollande's having been caught with two mistresses on the eve of an important visit to The White House had some high level stepping to do. While he was pulling on the petals of his daisy trying to decide which mistress to please, the one in the palace headed for the hospital with a case of the vapors, or at least a serious case of humiliation.
In a few days the President decided the resident mistress had to go and moved her things out of the palace. Of course, he was enough of a gentleman to visit her in hospital to explain.
(A betting man would wager he had a big group of his security guys with him whilst he was explaining!)
So this particular ripple in the Frog Pond sent a tsunami across the ocean to Washington, D.C., where for many months diplomats and protocol junkies had been carefully planning the state visit of the President of France and his “lady.” In fact, her name was even on the formal invitations. And whoever is in charge of the table seating was really in a bad place.
The French “lady” was to have been seated with President Obama.
Now, alas, an empty chair.
(Must have reminded President Obama of Clint Eastwood’s solo conversation at the Republican presidential nominating convention.)
Comment horrible.
Who would be tasked to ask the French if their president was bringing Mistress #2 or if he would be flying solo? Eventually, it was revealed that Francois would be batching it at The White House State Dinner.
Out with the old invitations. Back to the printer for new invitations.
Out with the old seating chart and in with the new.
Now here is where the fromage really begins to bind.
Perhaps the French President would like a “date” for the dinner.
How does one arrange a blind date for the President of France?
The Obamas were evidently stumped on this one because, in fact, no date was to be found.
They couldn’t call an escort service. That would simply have confirmed what the Frogs already think, that we have no talent in matters of the heart.
It would have been too obvious to simply produce a starlet from Hollywood. We simply cannot make “book” on Francois’s favorites among American actresses, and there was not enough time to check with the NSA and have them review any audio tapes they might have of Francois’s telephone calls and email messages to the ladies.
The Obama daughters are too young to step in and help the parents like Lynda Bird and Lucy Baines used to do.
So Francois was wined and dined without a lady on his arm or, for that matter, even waiting back at the Elysee Palace for his return.
What was supposed to be a pas de deux between the French President and his lady turned out to be more of a faux pas between America and France.
Of course the French would have expected nothing from the Americans. And as usual, we did not disappoint the French as we lived up to their every expectation of incompetence to handle a sticky wicket, lack of ingenuity or experience in real romance, and a certain absence of the talent to cherchez la femme!
And as most Americans living outside the Beltway know, the answer to the dilemma was no farther away than asking a former resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue if the Obama Protocol Chief could borrow his black book.
