AUSTIN, TX - Yesterday my art-school friend Jeff sent me a Texas picture from back in the day I hadn’t seen before, prompting a conversation about the good people of France. I used to make goat cheese on Valentin's family’s farm on a mountain called Bormes-Les-Mimosas overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
Eva: Oh my god, Valentin from South France looking like a total bum whoooaaaaa!! I won't even mention what I'm wearing - that's a whole other prison sentence of eternal delight and shame.
Jeff: I think he was just disguising himself to fit into Texas... I remember him being quite the gentleman.
Eva: Yeah, he was so cultivated, designing entire gourmet dinner menus in his mind out loud as we drove across the desert. French people.
Jeff: TELL ME ABOUT IT. You can't leave them alone in your house for a second... before you know it everything is clean and filled with interesting books.
Eva: That would be a great sketch comedy piece - a Frenchman breaks into your house and makes everything beautiful and the family is all scared and horrified.