Fun police

I went to the small park in the center of town this afternoon for lack of a better thing to do. There are nice benches, a little fountain, and lots of kids playing in the brand new playground. The whole park is new actually, a civic project to replace a parking lot with some green space. Since it was Sunday, nothing much was open except the pool, the ice cream cart, and some restaurants and bars. It's Southern France, it's Sunday, it's summer: people avoid working.

French people break a lot of little rules. They jaywalk and cross before the sign turns green (I feel like a sheep back in the US when I wait now); they park on the wrong side of the street, facing traffic and often in handicapped or otherwise restricted spots; I've seen them drive the wrong way down one-way streets; they pee in public instead of taking the trouble to find a toilet (I saw a mother helping her kids pee on the grass between the entrance to a store and the parking lot once); and let's not forget all those people smoking in train stations right underneath the no-smoking signs while they make the announcement about the new law that smoking is not allowed in any part of the station.

So I'm still shocked by the seriousness with which French people take those little "Pelouse interdite" (Keep of grass) signs. There was someone working today to remind people to keep off the grass. A father had taken off his shoes and was standing barefoot on the grass just beyond the sidewalk while his daughters played, but the town employee put an end to that. Some parents yelled at their son because he took a short-cut from the sun dial back to the walkway through the grass, instead of on the walking stones. I had to keep from laughing it was so ridiculous.

My friends and I called the park guardians the Fun Police in Paris because they were always stopping people who were having fun.

I understand that riding a bike on the grass, playing sports, or playing frisbee with your dog will damage it, but standing on it? The local library is only open 15 hours a week, but they pay someone to watch the grass on Sunday. Why is it so precious to the French? The drunkards hang out and drink in the older playground next to the pre-school, but heaven forbid a child should take three unprotected steps.

Maybe it's something like the legend of the crows at the Tower of London and the crown: as long as the park grass is great, France and French will remain important in the world!