September 14, 2012

FLEA MARKET MANIA!

SO….. a while back, as I was ruminating about my trip to France… and discussing some of the French masters, I signed out by saying “Au Renoir!” (Instead of “au revoir!)

Well….. apparently my harmless little joke set off a chain of cosmic events that culminated in a brief, but shining example of serendipity! (What the heck is he babbling about now?) First, my definition of “serendipity.” Which to me, is like searching for a needle in a haystack and finding the farmer’s daughter! In other words, incredible good luck. So, to what cosmic-like happening am I referring? (Fasten your seat belts, art lovers!)

Two days ago, as I was putting the finishing touches on my second mystery novel titled MURDER ON MAIDEN LANE, an actual RENOIR came on the market in a most unusual fashion! Several years before, a Virginia woman went to a local flea market (ostensibly to buy fleas) but ended up plunking down $7.00 for a little framed painting that she thought was a “poor copy” of Renoir’s painting style. Well, fast forward several years, and guess what? The woman now owns a bona fide work by Pierre-Auguste Renoir!! (I wonder which summer month Renoir liked the most?) Anyway, the French impressionist was very talented. (They say he did a great Elvis impersonation!) He was also a decent painter.

How decent you ask?

The Potomac auction house handling the sale is expecting a MINIMUM bid of….. $100,000! (And if you want more than the frame, bring a lot of loot!) Just between you and me, this little darling is going to fetch much, much more. How do I know? Because I know something others don’t. (This guy Renoir is dead! No more paintings from him!) By the way, in case you are interested, the painting goes on the auction block on September 29th. (No out-of-town checks will be accepted.)

For you cultured types, the painting dates back to 1879 (the year before James Garfield was elected President!) and is titled…… “Paysage Bords de Seine.” (Which in English, means “Landscape on the Banks of the Seine.”) Having just come from Paris, I can tell you that there are many banks along the Seine, but the exchange rate stinks!) I hope the French go back to using francs. (The Germans could then use sausage!) Hot dog! I would “relish” such a monetary shift.

And speaking of francs….. one of the few things that is known about the Renoir painting is that it was purchased by a French art gallery in June 1925 from a woman who called herself Madame Papillon for 5,000 francs. (Remember the movie called “Papillon?” Starring Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman?) Just coincidence? I think not, monsieur! Want to hear something even weirder? “Papillon” is the French word for butterfly! And Steve McQueen’s last name? Yeah, now you know where I’m going….. Butterfly McQueen! Just another coincidence? I think not again! (I’m spending too much time on the computer.)

Well, in all seriousness, I think this is a fascinating story. I will never, ever make fun of folks who go to the flea market again! (Unless they come back with a Rembrandt.)

Have a wonderful weekend! Love to all,

Doc Yanoff

September 1, 2012

AVIGNON… ARLES… AU REVOIR!

Well, in the words of William Jefferson Clinton, all good things must come to an end! (Oui, Monica!) The time has come to bid farewell to France, and even though I enjoyed every minute, just in the nick of time….. My liver is turning into foie gras and my brain into pate! (All things considered, not such a bad way to go.) Nevertheless, it is time to go, and I must say it has been quite a party.

Yesterday was spent in Avignon, once a Papal residence. The old town is surrounded by a three-mile long wall fortified with 39 towers and a pair of pits. (Or was that parapet?) In any case, the place was built in the 13oo’s, which speaks well for the building unions of that time. There are some cracks here and there, but by in large, it has held up well. (Reminds me of a few mademoislles I saw!) After an intriguing tour of the Papal Palace, we strolled over to Le Pont d’ Avignon, the most famous bridge in France. French children learn to sing a nursery rhyme about the bridge at a very young age. I think Simon and Garfunkel also wrote a song about the bridge. Here in lovely Avignon I had the best coffee and quiche of my life, plus I met a guy in the village square who was the runner-up for Pope during the last installation. (He took the defeat rather hard and is now selling postcards.)

Today was spent in Arles, which rhymes with “Carl,” but without the “C.” (French ain’t easy!) Arles has the most impressive Roman remains outside of Italy and Hoboken, New Jersey. The town is simply stunning, and as some of you know, it is closely associated with a very famous painter named Norman Rockwell. Wait, I got that last part wrong! I meant to say Vincent van Gogh.

Poor Vincent led a troubled life. If you ask me, he moved around too much. (Dare I say that he was a “moving” van?) So where, you might wonder, did Van go? Well, he traveled all over France but spent 15 happy months painting in Arles. I think this was after he cut off his ear, which the locals thought was “eerie.” (I was going to go with “irritating,” but it was too easy.) Walking around the old city, we actually got to see some of the locations that he painted, and that was very interesting. The man was definitely talented, but he was no Olaf Weighorst. (There was a man who could paint horses!)

This afternoon, we drove to a working olive farm (mainly because it didn’t make any sense to visit a non-working farm) and learned how olive juice, I mean, olive oil is made. It was very “depressing.” (Think olive press.) By the way, the Countess thought that an olive press was the local newspaper! Sometimes that girl is the “pits.”

All right, no more olive puns!

After sampling some great olives and olive oil, we drove up to a Medieval fortification and had time to tour a small, but fascinating museum dedicated to Grace Kelly! (Her hubby was part of the Grimaldi family, which once owned most of the land in the area.) The Mistral (cold winds) were acting up a bit, but we were still able to see many fascinating sites, including a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean.

Well, it is time to pack the ship towels, I mean, our clothes. Tomorrow we take the High-Speed train back to Paris, spend the night, then fly back to New York City for some badly needed rest. (This vacation wore me out!) Thank you all for following my Elvis/Travel Blog for the last few weeks. I have had over 1,000 blog hits since we landed in London, and at last count, I’ve heard from 33 different countries!!

I am VERY flattered that so many people took the time to read my blog! Sincerely, I thank each and every one of you, and I hope I brought a little smile to your face. You will hear from me soon…. whence I return to the Lone Star State and catch up with the mail!

Au revoir, my friends!

Monsieur Stephen….. A homesick American!

August 31, 2012

PASTRIES… POPES… PASTIS… AND PRESLEY!

Oui Mademoiselles et Monsieurs, I am still wandering around France, searching for my lost jigger of salt, ala Jimmy Buffet who was wasting away in Margaritaville. Actually, I am not wasting away, but eating like a swine. There are 3 distinct levels of French cuisine lovers….. gourmets, gourmands, and me….. gluttons! This glutton loves mutton, but since they no longer serve this particular animal, I have been forced to make due with lamb and veal. (Both vicious brutes who ravage the countryside!)

Yesterday we were in Viviers, which is quite Medieval in its appearance, and is best known for containing the St. Vincent Cathedral….. the smallest cathedral in France. Despite its size, it is quite lovely. We were treated to an organ recital, and before you ask, it did NOT involve an organ grinder or a monkey. The organist had a powerful set of pipes, and he was kind enough to play some oldies from an album called “The Greatest Hits of the Monk-ees.” (Hey, there aren’t many good organ jokes….. that are clean.)

After the organ recital, we hoped aboard our “Petite Pooch,” which is French for “Little Greyhound,” and drove to a working truffle farm. In these parts, the truffle is known as the “black diamond,” and at $200 per pound, you can see why. I really enjoyed this part of the trip. The farm owner had a sweet doggie named Millie, who was trained to sniff out the truffles (which grow as a fungus on the roots of the trees) and then on command, dig down for the truffle and gently pick it up with her mouth and drop it at the farmer’s feet. Each time she found a truffle she got a treat, so I decided to try it, and to tell you the truth it’s a lot harder than it looked. Messy, too.

Later that same afternoon, we continued southward, driving to a truly amazing region where Chateauneuf du Pape (The Wine of the new Pope) is produced. Every inch of this region is covered with grape vines, and some of these vineyards produce the best and most expensive wines in France. Naturally, we got to sample some of the good stuff, and since I am now a member of the “Legion du Gluttony,” I purchased a bottle of red wine, which the Countess and I (and some carefully chosen friends) will consume this evening!

Does it strike you that I’ve been doing a lot of whining (wine-ing) this trip? God, it’s a good thing that I finished THE PRESLEY PLOT before I got here! At this point, I’m not sure If I can hold a pen steady!

This evening, as we dine on more vicious lamb, we set sail for Avignon…. once a Papal residence (7 different Popes lived there) . I’m not positive, but I think Avignon was also the home of Pope-Eye the Sailor. In any case, it is supposed to be a beautiful village, and the home of some of the world’s great bingo players. I shall, as they say in Provence, keep you informed of my whereabouts!

Au revoir!

The Monsignor of Mirth…… Monsieur Stephen Yanoff.

August 28, 2012

PRESLEY! POMMERY! POMMARD!

(If we were watching Johnny Carson, he might say….. name a King, a mustard with zing, and a wine that will make you sing!) O.M.G., the south of France is totally, how shall I say, MAGNIFIQUE! (Which is slightly better than magnificent.) Our wonderfully serene cruise has brought the Countess and I through the heart of Burgundy, gliding past some of the most spectacular (and valuable) vineyards on earth! Yesterday was spent in the thoroughly charming village of Beaune. (The historic center of the dukes of Burgundy.) Not to brag, but I met the descendants of the Duke of Earl and the Duke of Snyder. Believe it or not, they walk around town using stilts! This may be where we get the term “put up your dukes!” (I was going to go with “uppity,” but I changed my mind.)

After purchasing a few gallons of mustard, we were driven to Chateau Pommard (Yep, that Chateau Pommard!) and were treated to a gourmet luncheon, tour of the vineyard and cellars, and a marvelous wine tasting experience. Oddly enough, the wine director recognized me, or thought he did, as “Monsieur Stephen” the famous American author. (I later discovered that he thought I was Stephen King!) Sensing a golden opportunity to pull the wool over his eyes (yeah, they raised some sheep, too) I convinced him that I was Stephen King…. and he brought out the “good stuff” for us to sip. (The REALLY good stuff!) A wonderful wine that I managed to swallow in vast quantities without getting drunk! From what I remember, we all had a great time and eagerly await our next chateau visit. (Which happens to be tomorrow!)

When we crawled back on board our vessel, it was time for the Captain’s Dinner. (Think caviar, pate, saddle of veal, souffle, and…… more wine!) Only because people are starving in China and India (according to my mother) I forced myself to consume a huge portion of the above treats, but I limited myself to one liter of champagne and one liter of wine. (By the way, “liter” is the French word for bottle.) God, I’m really starting to love these villages. What Gauls they have!

Well, mademoiselles et monsieurs, I must run…. the fascinating city of Lyon awaits! (We just dropped anchor.) Looks like another sunny, warm day. We are docked in the heart of the city, and from what I can see, the French have done it again. Truly remarkable!

Best wishes and love to all,

Stephan Yanoff, a/k/a The Marquis de Sade (isfied)

August 26, 2012

ELVIS! EVIAN! EIFFEL!

BON JOUR MADEMOISELLE ET MONSIEUR AMERICANO!

Well, after four days in Paris, France, all I can say is….. VIVE LA FRANCE! …..VIVA LAS VEGAS! ….. VIVA ZAPATA! What a grand and beautiful city is Paris, “The City of Lights.” (Not to be confused with Las Vegas, “The City of Fights.”) I must say from “ze getgo” (not an official French term) that Paris is incredibly beautiful, majestic, and truly a grand. The buildings (especially the museums) are like none other in the world….. and this from a guy who grew up in New York. Honestly, there is almost nothing on earth to rival some of the great museums in this city, and the Countess and I visited some of the best and most impressive, but you know the names, so I shall not bore you.

In my younger days, I thought that France would be a great place to visit if there were fewer French people there, but again, my views have changed. Everyone was quite hospitable and charming, and we did not encounter a single act of rudeness. (Except for that one guard in front of the Mona Lisa…… How did I know you weren’t supposed to trace over the painting?) Anyway, the good news is this: the French have changed! They are more like the English. (Who bear a vague resemblance to us.)

How could anyone find fault with a country that gave us French toast, French fries, and French kissing? (By the way, I tried the kissing thing on the hotel elevator and got slapped for my trouble! The maid did not appreciate my “tongue in cheek” attitude. (So much joie de vivre!)

Lady Spendthrift – who has now been renamed Le Countess de Currency – got off to a bit of a rocky start by referring to the most famous landmark in the city as “The Awful Tower.” (I straightened things out by telling the locals that she posed for one of the gargoyles on the church of Notre Dame.) I think the “Frenchies” believed me. (They are so “Gaulible.”)

I intended to read a passage or deux of THE PRESLEY PLOT at the Louvre, but there were too many gendarmes guarding the place and they did not look like Elvis fans to me. (Who the hell is Edith Piaf?) I think she may have been a gourmet chef, because I once saw a dish called Rice Piaf on a menu. In any case, I did not do a public reading, but I have spread the word about the book around the city. I hope the good citizens of Paris will buy a few copies, and I think they will like the story. After all these folks think Jerry Lewis is funny! (Let’s just hope they don’t think my writing is crepe!)

For those of you who are keeping track of my whereabouts (friends, family, the I.R.S., burglars, etc.) I happen to be aboard a luxury river barge called the River Royale. We are presently docked at a charming village in the south of France. (A place called Chalon sur Saone…… which loosely interpreted means “the town of many missing Euros.”) Tomorrow we are off with our dear friends, Barbara and Max Talbott (who are celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary today!) for a tour Chateau de Pommard in Burgundy. If I don’t get locked in a wine cellar, I will give you an update on my international tour to promote (or destroy) Franco-American repartee!

Until then, mon ami, remember to pursue joie de vivre!

And now I must say Adieu! (And Adieu have to go to dinner!)

Monsieur Stephan Yanoff, The Count of Mushy Crisco!