Impressions de Cannes

Cannes. Flashy people (or les People as they say in France) + flashy shops + flashy boats = high score on the bling-bling scale. But that is not what makes an impression. What makes an impression, is the people who get lost in all this. What makes an impression, is the contrasts.

Like a baglady in a little black dress. Front covered with cheap bijouteries. An attempt at a hairdo. If you're a baglady in Cannes, you'd better try to have some class. So be it that the effect of the little and oh so short dress which covers oh so little is quite heartbreaking when your body is like that of a sumo wrestler and the bags you drag with you containing your life are revealingly worn and dirty. Her eyes are revealing too. And the way she walks. She's tired now.

A table next to mine seats some french-american mixture with fake smiles and fake teeth. As dicretely dressed as the baglady was indiscrete, but just as revealing. Bling-bling. A young, frail girl approaches the restaurant carefully, holding a paper cup. The couple at the first table she comes to turns her down, as she had expected. As she moves on towards my table, the bling-bling lady from the other table comes rushing towards her and snarls: - Dégage de là! Get lost! Like she was shouting at a dog with rabies. With such contempt in her look and in her voice that I lost my speech and my appetite. The girl vanished, tail between her legs, I didn't even see her. Had I seen her, or had I thought about it, I would have called her back and given her money. Or, I should have walked over to their table and sung - oh, think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise. As it was, and as it often is, all I did was stare at her, with all the contempt I could muster and I shook my head. Not that I think anything would work with the likes of her, but maybe the others at the table would think twice.

There were two children at that table. They learn that it is allowed to treat a fellow human being with such a complete lack of respect. If the lady had had a silky dog in a Gucci bag, she would have treated that animal far, far better. The very least the girl deserved was a polite no and perhaps even a smile. We don't know her story.

She calls out to the man on the street
sir, can you help me?
It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep,
Is there somewhere you can tell me?

He walks on, doesn't look back
He pretends he can't hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be there

Oh think twice, it's another day for
You and me in paradise
Oh think twice, it's just another day for you,
You and me in paradise

She calls out to the man on the street
He can see she's been crying
She's got blisters on the soles of her feet
Can't walk but shes trying

Oh think twice...

Oh lord, is there nothing more anybody can do
Oh lord, there must be something you can say

You can tell from the lines on her face
You can see that she's been there
Probably been moved on from every place
cos she didn't fit in there

Oh, think twice...