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French Tongue in Cheek


I’m writing to lodge a complaint about the frank Francophilia that overran, like a plague, page three of your otherwise laudable publication this week [7/15/10].

I believe a little shame might be in order? When we turn to the community’s blue chip news and arts journal for edification, do we really want to be confronted by a Parisian floozy waving her petticoats? Um, no. The “Huge Eiffel Tower” bullet in the ad says perhaps more than need be said on the subject.

Anyone who wishes to debase themselves with this kind of sordid stuff is better served by the lurid peep shows of Gene Kelly and Maurice Chevalier, who is at this writing probably still thanking heaven for little girls. The unnecessarily racy illustration of this high-stepping demimonde brings to mind a troubling vision: tipsy throngs of wine-besotted Gauls wearing tilted beanies and hollering “La Marseillaise” in broad daylight.

I would ask this of your editorial board: Confine your panting crêpe enthusiasm to the yearly Oak Park bacchanal and leave the rest of us out of it. Oh, and more ketchup for my chateaubriand, waiter!

Hi to [French Festival organizer] Steve Hoegerman. Hope it went well, buddy!—Jeff Wing



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