WALL STREET JOURNAL ARTICLE: PARENTING IN FRANCE

The Wall Street Journal can't help but have a schizophrenic attitude toward France and the French.

On the one hand, France is a social democracy. Not technically socialism, but close enough that you can call it that if you're a Republican politician. The French enjoy  universal health care. (Maybe the word 'enjoy' is not one that the WSJ would use.) The French are part of that European Union thing, encouraging sloth among its populations, running up debt, threatening the markets.

On the other hand, those who read the WSJ are presumed to have disposable income. They want the best and they can afford the best. They live lives of relative leisure. If they knew how, they would be decadent.

Who knows more about decadence than the French?

So what is the editorial board of the WSJ to do? The answer comes in three parts:
1. They denigrate the French on the news and editorial pages for their corrupt politicians, their 'entitlement' economy, their lack of good old Protestant work ethic.Can you believe that the French are entitled to more vacation by law than any other country in the world and that they take just about every day of vacation time to which they are entitled? And socialized medicine? Don't even go there.
2. They worry on the financial pages that the European Union's apparent inability to solve it's economic problems will have a negative effect on the US economy. Their problems are their own fault...if you overlook that uniquely American invention, derivative trading. But if they blow their recovery, we might go down with them.
3. They lay it out plainly on the pages that deal with life-style and the arts. French wine is the best. French food can't help but tickle the palate. French museums, the Musee d'Orsay in particular, set the standard. And today, I learned that the French are exemplary parents.

Exemplary parents? How can this be? How can the same people who demand to be coddled by their government be the kind of parents who successfully teach their children patience, discipline, and self-sufficiency?

I believe that attitude stems from a mistaken premise, that the French have persuaded their government to create a society that expects more in services than they are entitled to and are willing to pay for. I believe that the French have demanded exactly what reasonable people in the modern world deserve - working conditions that allow them to have a decent family life, healthcare that is among the best in the world and available to all, and a retirement age that allows them to be fully active for many years before the ravages of time set in.

But are the French willing to pay? I think that they are. Certainly, they would prefer lower taxes to higher ones. But they have a simple income tax system and a high Value Added Tax, both of which can be easily adjusted if necessary and when politicians exhibit the will to explain the need to their constituents.

They'll get through the current financial crisis. They'll keep universal healthcare. They'll get plenty of time off from work and they'll take all of it. And they'll be healthier than we are, live longer than we do, and raise patient, disciplined, and self-sufficient children.

RECOMMENDED WINES AND VINEYARD VISITS IN THE LANGUEDOC

Under no circumstances can I be considered a connoisseur of fine wine. I won't be so simplistic as to say that I don't know much about wine, but I know what I like. My palate is a bit more sophisticated than that. But you will never hear me describe a wine as, "A saucy little vintage, spicy with hints of leather, pine cones, and pineapple at the finish."

And the reader should be aware that I am no fan of the big California boutique wines. They are overly expensive and have too high an alcohol content for proper drinking. In a culture that considers wine the beverage of choice any time that food is taken with the possible exception of breakfast, an alcohol content of 8% to 10% is fine for table wine and 10% to 12% is about right for a special bottle for a special meal.

Consider this. Cathey and I consumed the equivalent of two bottles of wine over dinner at the Hotel Residence in Nissan-lez-Enserune one night, a rose at the start and a red for the main. They were perfect for the food and within the alcohol limits described above. We heaved ourselves into our rental and were promptly stopped at a checkpoint around a corner less than two blocks away. I passed the breathalyzer test at 0.0%. Two possible explanations present themselves:
1. The gendarmes were nice guys, took pity on the goofy Americain, and used a broken tester.
2. You can consume, enjoy, and metabolize a considerable amount of wine and still solve complex mathematical equations if the wine has the appropriate alcohol content, if you linger over a multi-course, work-of-art meal for two hours or more...and assuming that you were a mathematician in the first place.

Below are links to the vineyards that we visit when we are stocking our French cellar. Some of their wines are exported to the USofA, but often those wines are designed specifically for what the French vintner considers the American taste and are quite different from the wines available at the vineyard itself for local consumption. And please note that, with a couple of exception, we pay about $5.00 a bottle for rose and never more than $10 for any bottle.

1. Chateau Caza Viel: On the D14 near Cessenon sur Orb, generational winemaker Laurent Miquel has decided to specialize in viognier, a difficult grape, and its combinations.  The results are quite pleasant without being overly complicated and heavy. There's viognier, chardonnay viognier, syrah viognier, and more. The quality is excellent across the board. Their bottles are for drinking with dinner or a fine lunch.

2. Chateau Saint Martin des Champs: Just outside of Murviel les Beziers, this is land that has been in cultivation for hundreds of years. Decent rose that sells out early, the reds need cellaring for a few years to smooth out the tannins, and a very tasty ice wine called Christine’s. We don’t go there much anymore.

3. Domaine LaCroix-Belle: The tasting room is in Puissalicon. Decent chardonnay, a red called Red No. 7 that’s ready for drinking and quite drinkable, and a sweet little dessert wine called La Soulenque. If you’re around at the right time, their New Wine is cheap and tasty.

4. Caveaux Saint Laurent: (No link) On the main drag that runs along the south edge of Capestang, this little shop is where we buy our sipping rose – cheap, pleasant to look at, and easy to drink all day long.

5. Day Trip Vineyards: Mas de Daumas Gassac They go their own way and produce wine suited to the terroir that may not meet the strict requirements of the French viniculture Gods but that goes down divinely. We bought two bottles of their best red for about $50 a bottle and will have held it for six or eight years before we drink it. Between Gignac and Aniane on the D32. Mas Amiel Their Cuvee Speciale is a wonderful after-dinner wine, almost a port, that is fermented with added alcohol, left in the open air in large demijohns for a full year, then aged in huge oak casks for an additional 9 or 14 years. Near Maury on the road to the Pyrenees and the great ruined chateaux of Queribus and Peyerperteuse. 

BECOMING AN EXPAT: Making the Decision

In 1998, Cathey and I began thinking seriously about our retirement. What did we want to do during our active retirement years? Travel. Where did we want to travel? Europe. Why not live there?

That’s the flip, short-hand way that I’ve explained the decision that led us to purchasing our vacation home in the south of France as a start on moving there permanently. The deeper reasoning was a bit more complicated than that and we’ve had to re-examine our decision at various points along the way. Perhaps it’s time to update the discussion of our making the decision to live as expats.

Before meeting Cathey, my travel had been confined exclusively to the East Coast megalopolis – Boston to the north, D.C. to the south, and not very far inland. My family never ventured outside the region while I was growing up. I don’t remember my grandmother, who lived next door to us, ever leaving town during the last fifteen years or so of her life. Dad and Nana had moved from the Bronx in the 1930s and, although Nana had walked out of Russia and made her way through Europe to Ellis Island 30 years previous, and although Dad had island-hopped with MacArthur and sailed around the Horn numerous times in the Merchant Marines during WWII, once they had settled on a dirt road just outside of Flemington, NJ, they stuck like glue.

Mom was even more parochial. Born and raised in Frenchtown, just down the road from Flemington but less than half its size, Mom graduated Frenchtown High, went to nursing school in Newark, and lasted only two weeks before homesickness drove her back to Frenchtown. She lived within ten miles of her four older siblings for 70 years, until the eldest brother moved into his daughter’s condo in Boca. The remaining four passed where they had been raised.

Aunt Sara was found on the floor of the kitchen in the family house in Frenchtown. She’d never left. There were whispers that she’d been the victim in a tragic love affair. To me, and later to Cathey, Sara had always been open and welcoming. We visited more often than any of the other nieces and nephews who had moved away, she always had cookies for us – store-bought chocolate chip, and if it was mealtime, maybe a bit of herring?  We liked Sara and I think that she like us. I hope that she didn’t suffer.

Cathey’s back story is a bit different. Born in her mother’s family’s base in New Orleans, she was raised in Brownsville, San Antonio, and Dallas, Texas. Her father was in the hotel and hospitality industry and had an affection for things Mexican. As a result, Cathey spent time in Mexico with family friends, went to college in Mexico City, and had done the Icelandic Airways/backpack Europe thing that was in vogue in those days besides. She was a traveler and felt comfortable in other people’s neighborhoods.

It was pure serendipity that I met Cathey on my first trip outside of my comfort zone. We first laid eyes on each other 41 years ago at the old Dallas airport coincidentally named Love Field.

I discovered on that first trip that I enjoyed the road. It was a doozie of a trip – Flemington to Atlanta to Dallas to Indianapolis to Dallas to New York to Boston to New York to Chicago to San Francisco to Los Angeles to Dallas to New Orleans to Dallas to Flemington in a 1970 VW Beetle – brand new when the trip started. Cathey and I have been traveling ever since, around the USofA, into Mexico, out to the Caribbean, and finally to England and Europe.

 

On the way, I discovered that I enjoyed breathing different air, tasting different foods, seeing different sites, figuring out how to communicate in a language other than English. For Cathey, who’d flown on DC3s when they were brand new and all the women  – passengers and crew – wore white gloves, the idea of living an expatriate’s life was hardly a novel one. She knew many expats personally. She counted some among her best friends.

What did we want to do during our active retirement years? Travel. Where did we want to travel? Europe. Why not live there?

CREDIT LYONNAISE MORTGAGE PRE-APPROVAL

We've had a checking account with Credit Lyonnaise since 2005. We've paid all of our French bills through the account either by check or debit - mortgage (through a different bank), taxes, utilities, property management, the works. We have a Carte Bleu  (French credit card - Visa - tied to our bank account). We have a 'personal banker' with whom I can exchange emails (thanks to Google Translate). We  recently opened a savings account in which we've parked the equity from the sale of our house.

I recently contacted our personal banker to ask how to pre-approve a mortgage. That's how we purchased the house in Cazouls. We'd contacted Banque Patrimoine & Immobilier on the advice of an expat on one of the expat forums. We faxed and FedExed a bunch of financial information. Eventually, we were pre-approved for a mortgage of up to 100,000 euros. It made things simple when we found the house. Put the money down, inform the bank, and away we went.

Credit Lyonnaise does not work that way, I'm told. When we've found the property, we'll let the bank know. They'll decide then and only then. No pre-approval. Not terribly convenient. Oh, well. If these things were easy, we'd all be rich.

EDIT: Credit Lyonnaise crapped out. We found the house that we were looking for in Quarante, called with the particulars, and they simply disappeared. The mortgage company that the real estate agent suggested wasn't interested. We weren't looking to borrow enough to make it worth their while to write the note. In the end, we went back to BPI. Even though we had a history, our age was a problem. We had to fill out endless form, have blood work and an EKG sent to them, and had to have our doctor fill out a four-page form that ended with the question: Will the mortgage holder live long enough to pay off the mortgage? And we had to buy mortgage insurance anyway. But they got it done and the rate of 2.68% fixed for 15 years works very well for me.