The Day I Decided to Become a Bush-Basher

Today, I joined the hordes of the Bush-Bashers.

It's all Bush's fault.

I had a dental appointment and there was a huge traffic jam.

It soon became apparent that if nobody was moving, it was because police officers were holding cars and vehicles back.

It wasn't only your run-of-the-mill traffic policemen, but CRS and soldiers and what looked like officers in civilian clothes.

What's going on? I asked a policeman.

He looked me over, as if trying to figure out whether I was some criminal or terrorist bent on mayhem. I must have passed the test, because he responded that America's secretary of state was visiting.

I have no idea if he got the identity of the distinguished visitor to France right, but when I arrived late for my appointment, I told my dentist the truth:

It's all Bush's fault.

(If my appraisal of my dentist's reaction — and that of her assistant, as well as that of her secretary — is correct, that excuse for lateness has never been tried on her before…)