US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
Jan 18th 2007, 5:35 am
#1
Guest
Posts: n/a
US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris
Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year
on the GI bill and developed into a sort of
journalist. In his final stage he refuse
the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever
the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson
for us all.
I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.
****
Le Grande Thanksgiving
By Art Buchwald
This confidential column was leaked to me by a high government official in
the Plymouth colony on the condition that I not reveal his name.
Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( Pelerins
) who fled from l'Angleterre before the McCarran Act to found a colony in
the New World ( le Nouveau Monde ) where they could shoot Indians ( les
Peaux-Rouges ) and eat turkey ( dinde ) to their hearts' content.
They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Americaine ) in
a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But
while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing
the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them.
The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they taught them
to grow corn ( mais ). The reason they did this was because they liked corn
with their Pelerins.
In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that
they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was
raised by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an
amusing story about the first celebration.
It concerns a brave capitaine named Miles Standish (known in France as
Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of
them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no
translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune lieutenant :
"Go to the damsel Priscilla ( allez tres vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest
maiden of Plymouth ( la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt
old captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ),
offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
"I am a maker of war ( je suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker
of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui tes pain comme un tudiant ),
can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the
pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the
heart of the maiden."
Although Jean was fit to be tied ( convenable tre emballe ), friendship
prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant
language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and
sorrow ( rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse ).
At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great
captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself
and take the trouble to woo me?" ( Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi
ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for
those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres
would make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous
voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( Chacun a son gout. )
And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a
large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the
year, eat better than the French do.
No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fte and no matter
how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to
Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.
Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year
on the GI bill and developed into a sort of
journalist. In his final stage he refuse
the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever
the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson
for us all.
I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.
****
Le Grande Thanksgiving
By Art Buchwald
This confidential column was leaked to me by a high government official in
the Plymouth colony on the condition that I not reveal his name.
Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( Pelerins
) who fled from l'Angleterre before the McCarran Act to found a colony in
the New World ( le Nouveau Monde ) where they could shoot Indians ( les
Peaux-Rouges ) and eat turkey ( dinde ) to their hearts' content.
They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Americaine ) in
a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But
while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing
the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them.
The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they taught them
to grow corn ( mais ). The reason they did this was because they liked corn
with their Pelerins.
In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that
they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was
raised by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an
amusing story about the first celebration.
It concerns a brave capitaine named Miles Standish (known in France as
Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of
them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no
translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune lieutenant :
"Go to the damsel Priscilla ( allez tres vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest
maiden of Plymouth ( la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt
old captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ),
offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
"I am a maker of war ( je suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker
of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui tes pain comme un tudiant ),
can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the
pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the
heart of the maiden."
Although Jean was fit to be tied ( convenable tre emballe ), friendship
prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant
language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and
sorrow ( rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse ).
At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great
captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself
and take the trouble to woo me?" ( Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi
ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for
those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres
would make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous
voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( Chacun a son gout. )
And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a
large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the
year, eat better than the French do.
No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fte and no matter
how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to
Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.
Jan 18th 2007, 7:08 am
#2
Guest
Posts: n/a
Re: US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
Earl Evleth a �crit :
> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris
> Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year
> on the GI bill and developed into a sort of
> journalist. In his final stage he refuse
> the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever
> the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson
> for us all.
>
> I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.
>
> ****
>
>
> Le Grande Thanksgiving
>
> By Art Buchwald
>
>
>
> This confidential column was leaked to me by a high government official in
> the Plymouth colony on the condition that I not reveal his name.
>
>
> Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( Pelerins
> ) who fled from l'Angleterre before the McCarran Act to found a colony in
> the New World ( le Nouveau Monde ) where they could shoot Indians ( les
> Peaux-Rouges ) and eat turkey ( dinde ) to their hearts' content.
>
> They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Americaine ) in
> a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But
> while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing
> the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them.
> The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they taught them
> to grow corn ( mais ). The reason they did this was because they liked corn
> with their Pelerins.
>
> In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that
> they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was
> raised by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
>
> Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an
> amusing story about the first celebration.
>
> It concerns a brave capitaine named Miles Standish (known in France as
> Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of
> them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no
> translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune lieutenant :
>
> "Go to the damsel Priscilla ( allez tres vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest
> maiden of Plymouth ( la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt
> old captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ),
> offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
> words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
>
> "I am a maker of war ( je suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker
> of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui tes pain comme un tudiant ),
> can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the
> pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the
> heart of the maiden."
>
> Although Jean was fit to be tied ( convenable tre emballe ), friendship
> prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant
> language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and
> sorrow ( rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse ).
>
> At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great
> captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself
> and take the trouble to woo me?" ( Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi
> ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
>
> Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for
> those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres
> would make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous
> voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( Chacun a son gout. )
>
> And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a
> large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the
> year, eat better than the French do.
>
> No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fte and no matter
> how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to
> Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.
>
>
>
> --B_3251993745_628826
> Content-Type: text/html
> Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
> X-Google-AttachSize: 4764
>
> <HTML>
> <HEAD>
> <TITLE>US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant</TI> TLE>
> </HEAD>
> <BODY>
> <FONT FACE="Verdana">Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris<BR>
> Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year<BR>
> on the GI bill and developed into a sort of<BR>
> journalist. In his final stage he refuse<BR>
> the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever<BR>
> the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson <BR>
> for us all.<BR>
> <BR>
> I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.<BR>
> <BR>
> ****<BR>
> <BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT><FONT FACE="Arial"><H1>Le Grande Thanksgiving<BR>
> <BR>
> </H1><FONT SIZE="4"><I>By Art Buchwald<BR>
> <BR>
> </I> <BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT></FONT><FONT SIZE="5"><FONT FACE="Times New Roman"><I>This confident> ial column was leaked to me by a high government official in the Plymouth co> lony on the condition that I not reveal his name.<BR>
> <BR>
> </I></FONT></FONT><FONT FACE="Arial"><BR>
> </FONT><FONT SIZE="5"><FONT FACE="Times New Roman">Le Jour de Merci Donnant> was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( <I>Pelerins</I> ) who fled from > <I>l'Angleterre</I> before the McCarran Act to found a colony in the New Wor> ld ( <I>le Nouveau Monde</I> ) where they could shoot Indians ( <I>les Peaux> -Rouges</I> ) and eat turkey ( <I>dinde</I> ) to their hearts' content.<BR>
> <BR>
> They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous <I>voiture Americaine<> /I> ) in a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or <I>Fleur de Mai</I> > ) in 1620. But while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges > were killing the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for bot> h of them. The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they t> aught them to grow corn ( <I>mais</I> ). The reason they did this was becaus> e they liked corn with their Pelerins.<BR>
> <BR>
> In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that th> ey decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was raise> d by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.<BR>
> <BR>
> Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an amu> sing story about the first celebration.<BR>
> <BR>
> It concerns a brave <I>capitaine</I> named Miles Standish (known in France > as Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both > of them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no > translation). The <I>vieux capitaine</I> said to the <I>jeune lieutenant</I>> :<BR>
> <BR>
> "Go to the damsel Priscilla ( <I>allez tres vite chez</I> Priscilla), > the loveliest maiden of Plymouth ( <I>la plus jolie demoiselle de</I> Plymou> th). Say that a blunt old captain, a man not of words but of action ( <I>un > vieux Fanfan la Tulipe</I> ), offers his hand and his heart, the hand and he> art of a soldier. Not in these words, you know, but this, in short, is my me> aning.<BR>
> <BR>
> "I am a maker of war ( <I>je suis un fabricant de la guerre</I> ) and > not a maker of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( <I>vous, qui tes pain comme> un tudiant</I> ), can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your > books of the pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted> to win the heart of the maiden."<BR>
> <BR>
> Although Jean was fit to be tied ( <I>convenable tre emballe</I> ), friends> hip prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegan> t language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement a> nd sorrow ( <I>rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse</I> ).<BR>
> <BR>
> At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the gre> at captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come hims> elf and take the trouble to woo me?" ( <I>Ou est-il, le vieux</I> Kilom> etres? <I>Pourquoi ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance</I> ?> )<BR>
> <BR>
> Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for > those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres w> ould make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous voi> ce, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( <I>Chacun a son go> ut.</I> )<BR>
> <BR>
> And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a> large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the ye> ar, eat better than the French do.<BR>
> <BR>
> No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a <I>grande fte</I> and no> matter how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks> to Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.<BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT></FONT><FONT FACE="Verdana"> </FONT>
> </BODY>
> </HTML>
>
>
> --B_3251993745_628826--
Art Buchwald ? Good riddance, he was, in his days, just as obnoxious as
Jay Leno,
Bill O'Reilly and all the lot together. I was a student in Am�erica
and his papers, about
the only news coming from home, made me sick.
French, sort of ? Wasn't he a Belgian ?
> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris
> Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year
> on the GI bill and developed into a sort of
> journalist. In his final stage he refuse
> the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever
> the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson
> for us all.
>
> I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.
>
> ****
>
>
> Le Grande Thanksgiving
>
> By Art Buchwald
>
>
>
> This confidential column was leaked to me by a high government official in
> the Plymouth colony on the condition that I not reveal his name.
>
>
> Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( Pelerins
> ) who fled from l'Angleterre before the McCarran Act to found a colony in
> the New World ( le Nouveau Monde ) where they could shoot Indians ( les
> Peaux-Rouges ) and eat turkey ( dinde ) to their hearts' content.
>
> They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Americaine ) in
> a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But
> while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing
> the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them.
> The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they taught them
> to grow corn ( mais ). The reason they did this was because they liked corn
> with their Pelerins.
>
> In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that
> they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was
> raised by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
>
> Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an
> amusing story about the first celebration.
>
> It concerns a brave capitaine named Miles Standish (known in France as
> Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of
> them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no
> translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune lieutenant :
>
> "Go to the damsel Priscilla ( allez tres vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest
> maiden of Plymouth ( la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt
> old captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ),
> offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
> words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
>
> "I am a maker of war ( je suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker
> of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui tes pain comme un tudiant ),
> can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the
> pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the
> heart of the maiden."
>
> Although Jean was fit to be tied ( convenable tre emballe ), friendship
> prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant
> language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and
> sorrow ( rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse ).
>
> At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great
> captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself
> and take the trouble to woo me?" ( Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi
> ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
>
> Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for
> those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres
> would make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous
> voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( Chacun a son gout. )
>
> And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a
> large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the
> year, eat better than the French do.
>
> No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fte and no matter
> how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to
> Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.
>
>
>
> --B_3251993745_628826
> Content-Type: text/html
> Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
> X-Google-AttachSize: 4764
>
> <HTML>
> <HEAD>
> <TITLE>US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant</TI> TLE>
> </HEAD>
> <BODY>
> <FONT FACE="Verdana">Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris<BR>
> Tribune. He came to France to loaf for a year<BR>
> on the GI bill and developed into a sort of<BR>
> journalist. In his final stage he refuse<BR>
> the dictat of modern medicine to do whatever<BR>
> the doctors order you to do. Surely a lesson <BR>
> for us all.<BR>
> <BR>
> I particularly remember the following because it is in French, sort of.<BR>
> <BR>
> ****<BR>
> <BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT><FONT FACE="Arial"><H1>Le Grande Thanksgiving<BR>
> <BR>
> </H1><FONT SIZE="4"><I>By Art Buchwald<BR>
> <BR>
> </I> <BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT></FONT><FONT SIZE="5"><FONT FACE="Times New Roman"><I>This confident> ial column was leaked to me by a high government official in the Plymouth co> lony on the condition that I not reveal his name.<BR>
> <BR>
> </I></FONT></FONT><FONT FACE="Arial"><BR>
> </FONT><FONT SIZE="5"><FONT FACE="Times New Roman">Le Jour de Merci Donnant> was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( <I>Pelerins</I> ) who fled from > <I>l'Angleterre</I> before the McCarran Act to found a colony in the New Wor> ld ( <I>le Nouveau Monde</I> ) where they could shoot Indians ( <I>les Peaux> -Rouges</I> ) and eat turkey ( <I>dinde</I> ) to their hearts' content.<BR>
> <BR>
> They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous <I>voiture Americaine<> /I> ) in a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or <I>Fleur de Mai</I> > ) in 1620. But while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges > were killing the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for bot> h of them. The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they t> aught them to grow corn ( <I>mais</I> ). The reason they did this was becaus> e they liked corn with their Pelerins.<BR>
> <BR>
> In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins' crops were so good that th> ey decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was raise> d by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.<BR>
> <BR>
> Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an amu> sing story about the first celebration.<BR>
> <BR>
> It concerns a brave <I>capitaine</I> named Miles Standish (known in France > as Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both > of them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no > translation). The <I>vieux capitaine</I> said to the <I>jeune lieutenant</I>> :<BR>
> <BR>
> "Go to the damsel Priscilla ( <I>allez tres vite chez</I> Priscilla), > the loveliest maiden of Plymouth ( <I>la plus jolie demoiselle de</I> Plymou> th). Say that a blunt old captain, a man not of words but of action ( <I>un > vieux Fanfan la Tulipe</I> ), offers his hand and his heart, the hand and he> art of a soldier. Not in these words, you know, but this, in short, is my me> aning.<BR>
> <BR>
> "I am a maker of war ( <I>je suis un fabricant de la guerre</I> ) and > not a maker of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( <I>vous, qui tes pain comme> un tudiant</I> ), can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your > books of the pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted> to win the heart of the maiden."<BR>
> <BR>
> Although Jean was fit to be tied ( <I>convenable tre emballe</I> ), friends> hip prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegan> t language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement a> nd sorrow ( <I>rendue muette par l'tonnement et las tristesse</I> ).<BR>
> <BR>
> At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the gre> at captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come hims> elf and take the trouble to woo me?" ( <I>Ou est-il, le vieux</I> Kilom> etres? <I>Pourquoi ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance</I> ?> )<BR>
> <BR>
> Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for > those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres w> ould make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous voi> ce, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( <I>Chacun a son go> ut.</I> )<BR>
> <BR>
> And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a> large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the ye> ar, eat better than the French do.<BR>
> <BR>
> No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a <I>grande fte</I> and no> matter how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks> to Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.<BR>
> <BR>
> </FONT></FONT><FONT FACE="Verdana"> </FONT>
> </BODY>
> </HTML>
>
>
> --B_3251993745_628826--
Art Buchwald ? Good riddance, he was, in his days, just as obnoxious as
Jay Leno,
Bill O'Reilly and all the lot together. I was a student in Am�erica
and his papers, about
the only news coming from home, made me sick.
French, sort of ? Wasn't he a Belgian ?
Jan 18th 2007, 7:20 am
#3
Guest
Posts: n/a
Re: US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
> Art Buchwald ? Good riddance, he was, in his days, just as obnoxious as
> Jay Leno,
> Bill O'Reilly and all the lot together. I was a student in Am�erica
> and his papers, about
> the only news coming from home, made me sick.
>
> French, sort of ? Wasn't he a Belgian ?
Soory, it was Bochgrave who was (is ?) Belgian. Buchwald was jewish
American.
I withdraw Belgian. Obnoxious is bad enough .
Qe le diable l'emporte
> Jay Leno,
> Bill O'Reilly and all the lot together. I was a student in Am�erica
> and his papers, about
> the only news coming from home, made me sick.
>
> French, sort of ? Wasn't he a Belgian ?
Soory, it was Bochgrave who was (is ?) Belgian. Buchwald was jewish
American.
I withdraw Belgian. Obnoxious is bad enough .
Qe le diable l'emporte
Jan 18th 2007, 11:00 pm
#4
Guest
Posts: n/a
Re: US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
Earl Evleth wrote:
> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris Tribune. He came
> to France to loaf for a year on the GI bill and developed into a
> sort of journalist. In his final stage he refuse the dictat of
> modern medicine to do whatever the doctors order you to do. Surely
> a lesson for us all.
That's where I discovered him, in the European Herald-Tribune. Much fun.
-- __________________________________________________ ______________
Un San Francisque�o en San Francisco.
http://geocities.com/dancefest/ -<->- http://geocities.com/iconoc/
ICQ: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/19098103 -------> IClast at Gmail com
--
Posted via a free Usenet account from http://www.teranews.com
> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris Tribune. He came
> to France to loaf for a year on the GI bill and developed into a
> sort of journalist. In his final stage he refuse the dictat of
> modern medicine to do whatever the doctors order you to do. Surely
> a lesson for us all.
That's where I discovered him, in the European Herald-Tribune. Much fun.
-- __________________________________________________ ______________
Un San Francisque�o en San Francisco.
http://geocities.com/dancefest/ -<->- http://geocities.com/iconoc/
ICQ: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/19098103 -------> IClast at Gmail com
--
Posted via a free Usenet account from http://www.teranews.com
Jan 19th 2007, 9:26 am
#5
Guest
Posts: n/a
Re: US Humour Columnist Buchwald Dead At 81-Le Jour de Merci Donnant
On Fri, 19 Jan 2007 04:00:57 -0800, Icono Clast <[email protected]>
wrote:
>Earl Evleth wrote:
>> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris Tribune. He came
>> to France to loaf for a year on the GI bill and developed into a
>> sort of journalist. In his final stage he refuse the dictat of
>> modern medicine to do whatever the doctors order you to do. Surely
>> a lesson for us all.
>
>That's where I discovered him, in the European Herald-Tribune. Much fun.
>
I liked the little episode in his life
where he got a job at a fancy Paris restaurant
by saying he had been a wine taster in the
US Marine Corps.
wrote:
>Earl Evleth wrote:
>> Buchwald was known for his writing for the Paris Tribune. He came
>> to France to loaf for a year on the GI bill and developed into a
>> sort of journalist. In his final stage he refuse the dictat of
>> modern medicine to do whatever the doctors order you to do. Surely
>> a lesson for us all.
>
>That's where I discovered him, in the European Herald-Tribune. Much fun.
>
I liked the little episode in his life
where he got a job at a fancy Paris restaurant
by saying he had been a wine taster in the
US Marine Corps.
