Waterfall Markets st✭ring socially insecure salads
I hope that you are happy and healthy as the planet, zipping through its orbit, approaches the longest day of the year. I realize that this longest day stuff is not globally consistent: friends close to the equator have uniform sunrise and sunset times year round; those in Reykjavik note that the Icelandic word for ‘dark’ (mørk) is unused in June.
You undoubtedly noticed the cliffhanger when you finished reading last week’s edition of The Weekly Letter. Nazy and I were visiting friends in Bresse. As luck would have it, there a nearby city, Louhans, was hosting a huge market and a “... chance to get fresh vegetables, in a grand market at great prices,” Christine enthused.
Not completely enthralled by vegetables, I asked a reasonable question: “Do they have any Bresse chickens?”
“They will have live chickens.”
“Sounds like Hong Kong,” I thought.
The market was truly grand. Nazy purchased French cheese (which was not detected at the Swiss border crossing) and several big artichokes that proved to be extremely tasty.
Later, we drove on to Tournus where we had lunch at the Aux Terrasses, a Michelin-st✭rred gastronomical delight.
“The food was great,” Nazy notes. “But they didn’t have salad.”
“I know. You asked five times.”
“I wanted green salad.”
“Which they didn’t have. They said ‘No’ 8 times: No. No. No! No!! No!!! and No, No, NO!!!! It took you a while to get the message.”
“I like salad. It is healthy.”
“So is sweaty exercise, but you don’t do it in a French restaurant.”
“They will all be constipated, Dan.” Nazy concluded.
Note: Nazy is not alone in this review. See here.
We decided to drive home via the Jura mountains, in the French Alps on the Swiss border. The countryside was beautiful and, as you can see from the photos, the weather was beautifully cooperative.
We visited and hiked around a waterfall in Baumes Les Messiuers and toured the nearbyl village. When Nazy wanted to try out the wine. I jumped into action.
“Joel said to avoid the Jura wine, Nazy.”
“Let me just taste it,” Nazy said.
“It looks sweet,” I replied.
“How can you tell?”
“That ‘wine’ has the consistency and viscosity of honey,” I thought.
“Yuck!” Nazy exclaimed as wine touched tongue-embedded taste buds.
“That exclamation shattered the rapport you had with the wine steward,” I whispered as I concluded that Joel had been right.
“We will come back ...”
“ ... later,” I concluded. “Much later.”
On the drive home, Nazy waxed enthusiastic about Joel’s culinary skills. “He grilled the chicken, Dan. You would never be able to cook dinner.”
“Of course I can cook, my dear. It’s simply a matter of following an algorithm. In my early career, I wrote algorithms.”
“That’s like comparing a Picasso portrait to an amateur paint-by-numbers...” Nazy retorted.
“When I did paint-by-numbers, you could tell who I painted.”
“Oh, Dan! You can’t even light the grill.”
Back at home, I got a call from the US embassy in Frankfurt.
“You’ve applied to begin receiving Social Security payments,” the caller declared.
“Yes,”
After a few questions to establish my identity, he asked if I was self-employed
“Yes.” I replied.
“If you’re self-employed and living overseas, then social security will not be paid.”
“Why?”
“These are the rules I will send you a descriptive brochure.”
“Wow! Thanks!” I replied.
“If you wait until you return to the USA, you’ll get more money each month.”
“More than zero?”
“So, do you want to change the start date?”
“If I don’t change the date, you will begin by not paying me anything. Then, if and when I return to the USA, you’ll start paying me at the reduced amount because I asked you to begin on that date. Is that right?”
“Yes. So when would you like us to start...
“.. not paying?” I interrupted.
“Well..”
“Just cancel my application.”
“Thank you. And, on another subject: do you qualify for a foreign pension?”
“I qualify for a domestic pension. Domestic in Switzerland - where I live.”
“Foreign to us. Are you aware of the windfall penalty clause?”
“Windfall penalty claws?”
“Since you have a foreign pension, you social security payment will be reduced.”
“How can you reduce it from zero? Do I have to send money to you?”
“This will only take effect when you start receiving social security. I also notice that your wife could apply for a pension. Does she want to apply?”
“She lives in Switzerland - with me. Can I assume that you won’t pay her either?”
“That’s correct.”
“So why would she want to apply?”
“Well..”
“Do you think that this is a fair way for my country to be treating me?”
“I’m just the messenger, sir.”
“Messenger or not. Do you think this is fair?”
“I’m simply communicating the policy. That is my job.”
“IS. IT. FAIR?”
“I’m simply... well, from a personal point of view, I am appalled.”
“Thank you.”
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