Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose….

In high school, I took French because a. the Latin teacher had had enough of me by 10th grade and b. Dorothy Parker probably spoke French. She was interviewed for The Paris Review, so it was likely. And she worked for Vogue, which is, after all, a French word, n’est-il pas? Oh, and I liked to wear Paisley-patterned clothing which, although not French, is somewhat Persian (the actual design), which sounds Parisian. And they speak French in Morocco. Oo-la-la!.

Except it sucked.

I couldn’t master Latin after 3 years – or even English after 14 – so where could this be headed?

If anyone had Mr. Bright for French, you know the answer. If you didn’t, I’ll fill you in.

La toilette. And not the Toulouse-Lautrec kind.

The kind where the oxymoronically-named Mr. Bright told our parents we would not only never learn the language, he would not waste his time teaching us and, furthermore, he could not care less, since the bright gleam of his impending retirement was dancing on the hood of his car, parked in between the driver’s-ed Reliants just outside the classroom. A few more months and les incompetents – that’s what the French would call us – would be a distant memory.

So I can’t speak French. And I’m not Dorothy Parker.

But I know a French epigram – plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. I find myself saying it over and over in my head – mostly in French because, après tout, I still would love to be able to churn out wisdom in French. But also in English, when I find the phenomenon it describes exceptionally tiresome.

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Do we really want to be surrounded by Mr. Brights? Dissatisfied people who would not recognize the good fortune in their lives if it were to jump up and bite them in le cul. That’s behind – in case you’re one of les incompetents. As in get your le cul out of your la tete and stop being miserable. You can change it. It doesn’t have to remain the same. Stop fixating on the gleam of anything just out of your reach just long enough to appreciate the gleam of the here and now.

There are lots of things that suck. No question. But there are some really good things, too. Enjoy them!

Don’t be a Mr. Bright.