A little closer look:
The village is small, charming, beautiful, and great for the kids. Wish it had a few more cafes and boulangeries, but I really can't complain too much.
The village is small, charming, beautiful, and great for the kids. Wish it had a few more cafes and boulangeries, but I really can't complain too much.
Can you believe that? A Pepsi machine selling only Coke and Coke products. I'm writing a letter to Pepsi Co. and Coca Cola, Inc. right now -- this injustice must be rectified. I can't face that kind of disappointment again.
CJS
10 months without a Dunkin Donut. How is that possible?
CJS
Henry looks a bit nervous standing in front of Christian Vandevelde's bike (can you find Kerri in the background?)
Even I get in a photo: with CSC Manager and 1996 Tour winner Bjarne Riis.
Some days you just get a little lucky.
CJS
We'll be standing out on the D117 watching the festivities -- including, of course, the grand caravan that will roll through before the riders arrive. The kids love that!
CJS
NICE, France — The world's entertainment press tripped over themselves, making embarrassing errors along the way, as they fought to be first to report the biggest celebrity story of the year: the birth of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt's twins.
In the end, the scoop went to a provincial French newspaper.
"It was Brad Pitt who chose to give the scoop to Nice-Matin," said assistant editor-in-chief Olivier Biscaye. "He said to the doctor that the local media should be the first informed about the birth."
Nice-Matin put one of its most experienced reporters on the story, Jean-Francois Roubaud, who was given access that the rest of the media pack camped outside the Lenval hospital could only dream about. While security kept out other reporters, Roubaud was allowed inside and given access to Jolie's obstetrician, Dr. Michel Sussmann. -- from Huffington Post
...it was conceived nearly 150 years ago almost as much for France as for the United States. The idea for the monument stemmed from a French struggle for freedom that began in 1852, when Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, having overthrown France's democratic republic, declared himself emperor. In the summer of 1865, after enduring 13 years of Napoleon III's near-dictatorial rule, Édouard de Laboulaye, a historian, acted as the host of a dinner for a small group of French liberals to celebrate the North's victory in the American Civil War. To Laboulaye, the restoration of orderly liberty in the United States put his own government to shame.
Over brandy and cigars, he and his guests, who included Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, the prominent sculptor, decided to organize a public campaign to commemorate American liberty with a grand gift to the United States. But the gift would double as an implicit critique of Napoleon III.
Bartholdi later envisioned a mammoth statue of the kind of ancient Roman goddess that since 1789 had symbolized liberty and the Republic. The French revolutionary tradition actually produced two goddesses: One sported the "liberty cap" and appeared in ardent motion, her breasts often bared, a fierce expression on her face. Her counterpart stood erect and still, her body modestly draped, her expression calm and serene. Bartholdi chose the second, unthreatening icon to have his "Liberty Enlightening the World" depict the stability that French liberals saw in the United States and wanted for their own turbulent land.
By the time construction began in the mid-1870s, Napoleon III had been removed from power and his opponents had created a moderate republican regime. France had escaped the twin perils of revolution and reaction that had characterized its political life for nearly a century. Now, Bartholdi's statue could stand for both the French and the American republics.
The statue took shape over the next 10 years in a huge workshop near the western edge of Paris. Gustave Eiffel, Bartholdi's chief engineer, created its iron skeleton, allowing him to test certain techniques he would use for his great tower in 1889. Fully assembled, the 151-foot "Liberty" loomed high over the Paris rooftops. When it was dismantled for shipment, in 1885, Parisians would miss it. Several smaller versions were built, and two of them still stand in Paris.
Americans would come to regard the statue as a beacon for immigrants. The French have always related it to their complex struggle for liberty.