Our Man in Paris, Ric Erickson, editor of MetropoleParis, gives us Christmas in Paris.

Paris, Saturday, December 7 - It doesn't matter if you've got no money, it doesn't matter if you are on strike, it doesn't matter if you are depressed - you could work more but Sarkozy doesn't pay overtime - and it doesn't matter that it's raining worse than the past seven Decembers combined, and it doesn't matter that about a million commuters think it doesn't matter either - no, son, you do have to go up to the boulevard Haussmann in this shitty weather and try to look at those windows, those damn Christmas windows. The kids will love it.

It doesn't matter how much common sense you have, you are going to do it. The rain was coming down all day. Did it have anything to do with the storm warning Météo France was hustling this afternoon? A proper gale for tomorrow. Batten the hatches, but first jump in the métro and cruise over to Haussmann with a lot of other crazies who should know better.

The look on their faces, coming out of the underground. Expectation, exhilaration, desire, determination - these were people who braved a year of Paris and its strikes and bikes, bombs and elections, Paris Plage and a walk in the park. They learned how to ride bikes again. Oh thank you, Gods in the Hôtel de Ville. We know who to vote for next spring.

But first, there's this Christmas facing us. All the unions except the CGT backed out of the transport strike next Wednesday. Who knows - better to see those animated windows today, Saturday, in the pouring rain, than take a chance we'll be on foot next weekend. The CGT must be out of its head.

The boulevard Haussmann is five lanes wide, one-way, and the cars and buses burst along it in bunches. Most of the cars are from out of town and that's where they're going after brawling in Printemps and Galeries Lafayette all day. It's raining and they are worn-out and cranky, and Jesus! Doesn't Paris have too much traffic around the grands magazins? Like every Saturday all year but ten times worse now. What were they thinking?  [Text continues below]

It doesn't matter. The street is wide and slick with the neons and stop lights and Christmas lights - low-power this year, we've gone green. The cars stop down by Lafayette and the crowd trying to see Printemps' windows bursts over the fixed sidewalk barrier and joins another crowd passing, heading east in the street to Lafayette.

Small armies waited in the downpour to cross the avenue. The green man showed and off they went, and kept going, joined by more and they kept it up after the light changed and drivers began revving their Twingos. A RATP bus came along with its ding-a-ling chiming, beeping folks in its lane back on to the sidewalk, over that barrier.

It was totally crazy this year. Just like last year. I wonder how many Monday's paper will say were killed, or drowned. Christ, I bet some even committed suicide. There was a lot of stress around.

I know I should think it's all normal, like around Macy's in Manhattan every Wednesday of the year. My suggestion is to close the boulevard for three weeks every December but I know that's nonsense. Give people more, and they just want more. Look at the Champs-Elysées! Wide sidewalks so folks just fill them right up and there you are walking in the street again.

And these people. Please! It's raining and it's dark and there they are with their little kids, muscling right up to the windows. I tried getting close to one - I like animated sales pitches with fuzzy animals - and I got mauled by errant and soggy umbrellas. Give me warm and dry Christmas shopping in Hollywood any day.

But I got out of there alive. I was already soaked so I went over the few blocks to Madeleine to see the rich folks stocking up on bonbons at Fauchon and Hediard. The rich must be laying low this year because Fauchon looked like it's in mourning. No bright lights at all. So dark it was hard to see the Mercedes 800s double-parked in front.

Not so Hediard. Two thousand kilos of red neon from to to bottom, setting the whole place on glistening fire. It may be crude but it's effective. And none of that cheapo greenie light either - 10,000 watts of the real thing! Shop there and you know the Champagne profit is going to a good cause.

So far I've done the Champs-Elysées. That was last week and it was not raining. The new lights are sublime. Like purple-blue dripping drops. Very discrete, tasteful, wonderful, too cool and boring. If you start at the Etoile you can see the whole avenue, right down to the big illuminated Ferris wheel at Concorde. Take the métro and save yourself a long walk with about 200,000 other sublime light fanciers and pickpockets.

If you survive there are lights and shoppers to see on Rivoli too, and a big knot of shoppers on Rennes. Skip both of them and try out ice skating in front of the mayor's place. It's pretty good there if there's no political or humanitarian demo on. There's even some ice slides you can go down. Instead of flinging yourself off some dangerous Alp. Christmas is risky but there's no rule that says you have to do the stupid stuff.

It doesn't matter if you are a grouch. If you live through it, you can look forward to having a good whine about Paris Plage in the summer. In our comics' world all gray clouds have inky linings.

Text and Photos Copyright © 2007 - Ric Erickson, MetropoleParis

All text and photos, unless otherwise noted, Copyright © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010 - Alan M. Pavlik