The Secret to a Warm Outlook in Cold Weather: A Trip to Paris and a Scarf

 I have lived in the midwest my entire life.  And every year at about the same time an interesting series of events occurs.  It begins with the lush landscape.  An evolution takes place where yellow, brown, and red leaves displace the dominant shades of green.  Many people have been known to travel great distances just to see the majesty of the fall colors. 

I am not one of those people.

I live in an older neighborhood riddled with giant oak and maple trees.  In an act of natural occurrence and harmony the trees in my yard drop their entire canopy of leaves at once.  Several neighborhood pets and one unfortunate kid down the street have been in the drop zone when this phenomenon happens.  There is no graceful slip from the tree branch as the wind gently rocks a few leaves to the ground.  It is as if the trees simply let go.  There is an eerie silence and then “whoof”!  Simultaneously every single leaf drops and covers my yard in an approximate 6 foot thick blanket of brown.  No man made rake stands a chance.  The only fix I’ve found is to sit on my roof and throw a flare into the middle of my yard igniting the blanket where I then fight off the flames with my trusty garden hose. 

After the leaf assault, the temperature deceptively begins to slip a little more every day.  I usually don’t notice it as it is happening.  Somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas it dawns on me that it is COLD! For as long as I can remember cold weather triggers a primal anger in me the manifests itself as tourrete’s-like outbursts at total strangers, cussing at my innocent car for being cold, low grade old man style grumbling, and kicking puppies.  …okay, I don’t kick puppies, but you get the point.

This year I did something I don’t normally do.  Typically when I get on an airplane at Kansas City International airport I get off where I can see palm trees.  In December, thanks to some stars lining up for me, I was able to go to Paris, France.  I typically wouldn’t choose Paris as a destination, but a few “bucket list” items are there and the offer was too good to pass up. 

Due to the “short attention span” theme of this blog, I will not walk you through my daily itinerary.  I will paint this picture with a much more broad stroke. 

A good friend of mine advised me that the first thing to do when you get there is to NOT sleep.  Despite the seven hour time difference and being a voluntary captive on several airplanes for approximately twelve hours I dropped my bags in my room and headed out into Paris.  Fortunately I received some advice from someone who was somewhat familiar with the metro (subway) system and began my journey. 

Over the next five days I would become intimately familiar with Paris’ underground public transportation system.  It was dark, crowded, gritty, odorous at times, but always cool in an alternate world/kitschy kinda way.  I felt like I was in a movie.  All of the usual players were there: the middle age man reading the newspaper, the teenager listening to her iPod, the twentysomethings making out, oblivious to the others in the car, the old lady with her baguette (note: I would wager that every fourth person I saw during the entire time in Paris was carrying a baguette.  I don’t think they actually eat the bread, I think they are aware of the preconceived perceptions that we Americans have, know when Americans are among them, and then carry the bread to mockingly perpetuate the stereotypes).

I ventured out into Paris sans tour guide. I saw the familiar towers of Notre Dame, I waited in line for hours in the cold and rain to enter the Louvre. I walked to the Mona Lisa, checked it off my life “to do/see” list, and then left. If you have never seen the Mona Lisa, she is a rock star. People were going crazy throwing elbows, using NBA block out maneuvers, tripping, and anything else they could do to get close to a painting that most have no idea why they need to see it. They simply know that when they get back to whatever corner of the world they are from they (we) will be asked, “Did you see the Mona Lisa”? Therefore, they (we) wait in line, locate the painting on the map of the MASSIVE Louvre, shove their (our) way to the front and look at the painting in awe, and then… leave.

I saw the imposing yet grand Eiffel Tower and took the obligatory elevator to the top. I rode a giant ferris wheel, enjoyed a night time boat on the Seine river, walked Champs Elysees to the Arc De Triomphe, and saw dozens of other famous man made buildings and works of art that, to this day, I have no idea what they are or why they are famous.

While meandering my way through the Paris streets and points of interest I noticed a few things. First of all, the stereotype of the French being rude is wrong. Everyone I encountered was refreshingly friendly and went out of their way to accommodate my ignorance of their language. Secondly, the women all appear to be comfortable and confident in their own fashion and the men all appear to be pale, thin, and morose. And finally, EVERYONE had a scarf. Men, women, children, even dogs had scarves. By my third day I decided that I would give in to the pressure. If for no functional reason, I would at least feel like I am fitting in. I stopped at a small sidewalk store across from Notre Dame and purchased a Parisian scarf. I wrapped it around my neck and was instantly taken by it. I felt warm. I felt secure. I felt hip. I felt… warm. For the remainder of the trip I only took it off to shower and even then I did so reluctantly. I was even shown the “Paris way” to tie the scarf.

I am a changed man. Don’t get me wrong, I still HATE winter! But when I’m wearing my trusty scarf, I don’t consciously think about how much I hate the cold. I just think about how the frigid air is no longer allowed down my neck hole, how warm my neck is, and how cool I feel despite taking “metrosexual” pot shots from my so-called friends. I don’t care. It takes the edge off of my hatred for winter. If I find out that ski goggles and duck boots have a similar effect I could become quite the sight in the wintertime. But I’ll be warm and happy!

I am eternally grateful for the opportunity given to me to see Paris and will carry memories that I will never forget! …and for my scarf!