PARIS IN SPRINGTIME

When I first started this job, I was a teacher. Teachers have some of the best vacation days ever. It's a great transitional job since you were off summers, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and so forth. So much so when I became a "Band Aid" (much better sounding than Groupie) for the Roots, I was easily able to hang out during those vacations.

The first time I came to Paris with them and saw their show at Elysee Montmartre, I was blown away. My two favorite things had come together, hip hop and France. I met the promoter of the show who at the time seemed slight swarthy and we developed a relationship.

Most of my French I attribute to some past life memory that allows e to speak and the other, is settling shows and fighting constantly with this promoter - Salamon.

Salamon and I have gotten into it over the years about Colonialism (my favorite topic). He's Arabic (admittedly after many conversations about Africa being Africa - blah blah blah) and very successful. I've watched him grow his business from doing shows at Elysee Montmartre, to selling the Roots largest show (prior to Brixton Academy) at the Zenith - 6000 + people, to now out with the Peas selling to 50,000 fans in 3 shows.

This morning we had breakfast.

The last time we spoke he was going through a terrible divorce and now it's over and he's expecting a child next month. His 2nd. His first is about 30. I don't know how old Salamon is but let's just say he keeps it moving.

And then he starts in on me.
"I thought you said you wanted to quit the road. it was too much."
"yes, but now I have this business. I have tour management agency, blah blah blah. I want to buy a vineyard in France, blah blah blah."

"yes, tina, well taking care of everyone else is good an all but when do you take care of yourself. They will all use you and then in the end what will you have. Be careful Tina. "

Who does he think he is? reading me like this so early in the morning in my favorite city?
"I am your friend Tina, I have seen you for a long time. You must have yourself a life."

Like, duh Salamon. I try to explain how no one wants a woman who works all the time. And he agrees and looks at me like it's MY fault. Ha. I wish I knew how to make it all work. It's true. All of it. And while all of my guy friends say this, I guess it took a man I talk to once a year by email and see even less (older and wiser of course) to let me have it...casually over breakfast.

Am I the crazy party girl that will be the old chick in the club? Scary.