A few of the Shakespeare & Co. tumbleweeds from my 1980 summer.

uring that 1980 summer, one of the tumbleweeds was perhaps less footloose than the rest: a British soldier on some sort of leave, with a small Triumph sportscar at his disposal. Occasionally, if the day looked promising, four of us would pile into his car and head out from the congested heart of Paris, out through one of the periferique's portals and along back roads. We would, that is, if we could manage to slip out from under the watchful gaze of George Whitman, who was continually on the lookout for idle hands in need of work...

Remember that great Marianne Faithful song "The Ballad of Lucy Jordan"? Where she sings:

At the age of 37
She realized she'd never ride
Through Paris, in a sportscar
With the cool wind in her hair...

Well whenever I hear that song now, I think of those summer days, as we headed back home to Shakespeare & Co, the wind in our hair. The sun setting, our heads would be euphoric with a mix of picnic wine, fresh air, and freedom. I felt so alive. We would plunge back into the maelstrom of Paris traffic, hanging on as the driver navigated his Triumph down the forking boulevards from his right-hand seat. The rough cobble-stones would judder the sportscar's frame, the plane trees would whip past us, and the bright lights of Paris would grow thicker as we neared the city's heart, night coming on...