Every once in a while we see something
that really hammers home the fact that we're not where we used to be.
France ain't North America.
Let me be clear: these are not good
things or bad things. They are only different in that we feel
surprised when we notice them and then stunned by our own surprise
as a little thread of unconsciously preconceived notions and
assumptions unravels in the brain.
This time, it was the carousel.
A fairground staple. A childhood classic. Lights and music accompany ponies and unicorns as they ride up, down, and around. Parents watch their children wave as they pass by. A swirl of bright colours and fanciful decor.
A fairground staple. A childhood classic. Lights and music accompany ponies and unicorns as they ride up, down, and around. Parents watch their children wave as they pass by. A swirl of bright colours and fanciful decor.
On the landmark Aix-en-Provence
carousel, that whimsical decor includes bare-breasted mermaids.
It's the little things, really.
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