How is Paris today for any old Joe?

I’m not a politician, not a reporter nor am I the military. I don’t know anyone who was killed. I do know military who were the first guys in the door at the Bataclan. They said their vehicle looks like a strainer— bullet holes.

Friends were out to dinner over there, they had to walk home all the way to the 15th. One ended up barefoot, but they’re alive.

The flag is half mast on the Pantheon.

This morning I walked past MacDonalds on the corner of rue Soufflot. Two of the three entrances are blocked. A sign said to use the main entrance. One way in, one way out. Security.

Paris is 2000 year old. Wars come and go.

Last night I went to a party.What do you do, stay home and watch the news? A friend who grew up in South Africa, during the worst of apartheid, told me this new war is a modern Moorish invasion.  Another war in world history.

We lit candles, we cried. Candles burned in windows everywhere in Paris last night.

After we cried we drank champagne ate escargot and danced.

This morning joggers couldn’t run inside Luxembourg gardens. They ran around it.

Four military trucks loaded with soldiers drove by.

Rue Mouffetard, far from the Bataclan, is packed. It feels like any old Sunday.